A/N: Apologies, again, for the long wait. I hope it's worth the wait!
Chapter Eleven
The lobby of St. Mungo's was abuzz with activity by the time they arrived at five o'clock. Hermione had dressed in wizard's robes for the occasion, although Harry knew she much preferred Muggle clothing. He smiled at her as they stepped out of the fireplace, brushing ash away and blinking at the clean white floors and walls of the hospital. Hermione took a deep breath, let it out, and looked to her right.
"Ready, Adrian?"
The boy nodded quietly, holding her hand obediently. "Sure."
Hermione had decided that it might be possible to find records of Adrian's family through his grandfather. They might, she had told Harry hopefully, have even found his brother. After hearing that, Adrian had insisted on coming, with the most force Harry had seen in him before.
Hermione straightened her shoulders, causing her blue cloak to ripple, and started off through the lobby with a brisk stride that belied her nervousness. Harry followed, avoiding the wizards and witches coming in for a variety of strange treatments. Meanwhile, a horde of Ministry officials dragged a scruffy man with a large sore on his head through the lobby. A terribly foul smell hit Harry's nose as he passed, presumably from the slime oozing from the sore.
"…wasn't me, I tell you!" shouted the man, who sounded quite out of his mind, "The cat sprouted wings of his own accord! Do you think I wanted that thing flying around my house?"
Suddenly, a surprising sound made its way to Harry's ears. Hermione's gaze whipped around, then brightened softly.
Adrian was laughing.
"Do you think it did, Hermione?" he asked in a whisper, making her smile warmly. She leaned down, all nervousness gone, and whispered back, "I don't think it did. Did you see that nasty blister on his head? It looks to me like someone was experimenting with a crossbreeding potion."
"An excellent deduction, Miss Granger," said someone briskly. Hermione stood up quickly, looking rather pink. A tall man with grey hair and pointed spectacles stood examining her shrewdly. "And what would you do, if you were attempting to discover which potion he was using?"
"Now, Gordon, I hardly think it fair-" said Madame Pomfrey from behind the man, but he cut her off.
"Let the girl answer."
Hermione swallowed, wetting her lips and shifting on her feet nervously before stammering, "I-I would test a sample of the pus with the Treltington potion, sir."
His face didn't change.
"And why is that?"
"Because the Treltington potion is the neutralizer of the most well-known breeding potion, sir. If-if he had been using it, the pus would return to a clear, natural fluid." Hermione said, glancing nervously at Madame Pomfrey and swallowing again.
The man's weathered face softened slightly, and he offered a small smile. "That's exactly what I would do, Miss Granger. Well-spoken."
Hermione let out a breath.
"Thank you, sir."
"She's a polite one," commented the Healer, clearing his throat and looking at Madame Pomfrey. "Rather pretty, as well."
Hermione flushed.
"And you must be…" the man stopped short, then his eyes widened. "Merlin's beard, you must be Harry Potter."
"Pleased to meet you, sir." Harry said politely.
"I don't believe he's introduced himself." Madame Pomfrey said rather exasperatedly. "This, Harry, Hermione, is Gordon Pruitt. He would train you personally, Hermione."
"It would certainly be an honor, sir." Hermione said, sounding rather flattered.
"The honor, Miss Granger, would be all mine. I have heard Poppy speak of your adventures with this young man, and I must say I was thoroughly impressed." Pruitt shook his head. "And I've also heard rumors that you were brewing Polyjuice Potion in your second year, is that right?"
"Sir-"
He raised a hand, chuckling at Hermione's alarmed look.
"The situation called for action, and goodness knows we adults weren't doing much-not that they were not trying," he said graciously, "It does help to be on speaking terms with certain ghosts at Hogwarts."
Hermione blushed.
"You do realize that the Polyjuice potion is considered to be at the level of a fully-trained Healer, do you not?"
"I-didn't realize that at the time, sir." Hermione said, sounding rather taken aback.
"Well." Pruitt turned to Madame Pomfrey. "I'll take her under my instruction if she likes, under one condition, Miss Granger."
"What's-what's that, sir?"
He chuckled again. "Stop calling me `sir'. It makes me feel old. No, don't say anything. Cheeky one, is she? Good day. Please do let me know by this September."
And with that, he strode off, whistling.
"He's really quite serious about his work." Madame Pomfrey said fondly. "Really, Miss Granger-Polyjuce Potion and the Treltington potion! I had no idea you were so advanced, even then."
Hermione blushed.
"And who is this young man?"
"Adrian." Adrian held out his hand. Surprised, the healer shook and smiled.
"And what can I help you with today, young man?"
"You can help me find my brother," he said quickly. "His name's Ben; he looks like me."
Madame Pomfrey stood up and looked at Hermione curiously.
"What have you two gotten yourself into this time?" she said dryly, "Hermione?"
"Isn't there records…?" Hermione began, but Madame Pomfrey shook her head, smiling with affectionate exasperation.
"Come with me, you three," she motioned towards them.
They followed her out of the lobby toward the first floor hallway, past the bored, gum-snapping attendant at the counter. Madame Pomfrey continued questioning Hermione shrewdly.
"And tell me, Miss Granger, should we be unable to find his relatives, are you aware of what will happen then?"
Hermione bit her lip, dodging a frazzled Healer rushing a cart of sloshing potions hurriedly down the corridor.
"I… I suppose he'd come with me." Hermione said at last, looking at Adrian. Adrian had gone very quiet at the suggestion of the possibility that they might not find his brother. "But then, I suppose both of them would have to come with me. Ben's not much older."
Madame Pomfrey took a deep breath and let it out.
"Well, I hope you know what you're getting into.'
"If we knew what we were getting into for everything in life, I don't think much would get done." Hermione said lightly, as Madame Pomfrey pointed her towards a door just to Harry's right.
"Talk with Healer Smitt," she suggested at last, "she may be able to help you." Harry turned to Hermione, who nodded.
"Go on, Harry. We may as well try."
He nodded, turned, and grasped the cold, tarnished doorknob, pushing the door open with a quick shove. Virtually no noise greeted him; he blinked several times and peered cautiously into the room.
Five somewhat haphazardly dressed children, most of which seemed to be about Adrian's age, were lounging about the room, some on the beds lining the walls, others half-heartedly scanning the rather sparsely furnished bookshelf on the opposite wall. All seemed to wear the same bored, somewhat miserable expression on their faces.
"Hullo," said one at last, staring at Adrian with idle interest. He was, like most of them, rather stringy and pale, and looked to be about eight or nine. His thick brown hair hung over his eyes as he crossed his arms. "Found another one, have you?"
"Er…" Harry took a step forward into the room, nearly tripping on a teddy bear. A little girl with braided blond hair scurried up, snatching the teddy bear away and staring up at him reproachfully as she nursed the bear's injuries. "Sorry-erm…"
Her dark blue eyes were so irritated it unsettled him. Feeling guilty, he bent and said, feeling Hermione watching him closely, "What's your bear's name? I'd like to say sorry, if that's okay."
Suddenly, her eyes brightened.
"His name's Oats," she said shyly, extending the amber-brown bear towards Harry. She giggled softly when he shook the bear's paw. "He says that you didn't really hurt him, mister."
"And… what's your name?" Harry said, smiling at her. She rocked back and forth on her heels nervously.
"My name's Jackie. What's yours?"
"Harry," he said, as Hermione came up beside him. "This is Hermione."
Jackie smiled and looked away as Hermione smiled.
"Hello, Jackie." Hermione said gently, "Can you tell us where a Healer Smitt is?"
When Jackie said nothing, an older girl of about seven years came up and whispered into Jackie's ears. Her blue eyes lit up again.
"Mittens went to get us lunch." Jackie pointed toward the door, her teddy bear dangling from her small hand as she did. "At the kitchen."
Suddenly looking bashful, Jackie hid behind the older girl, who looked rather nervous as well.
"Did you bring him to stay?" She motioned to Adrian. Hermione frowned.
"What's this?"
"To stay." The boy who had spoken to Harry first repeated, as though this should clear everything up. "Like all of us."
"We're looking for my brother." Adrian said quickly, coming forward and looking around anxiously. "He looks like me-he's ten-"
"There's been a lot of kids coming in and out," said the other boy, casually resting his head against the wall behind the headboard of the bed. "We might have seen him. What d'you reckon, Dusty?"
"Might have seen him," echoed another boy on the bed next to him. He was regarding Adrian with a bit more interest than he had displayed before. "Blond hair?"
"Yes!" Adrian said eagerly, "And eyes like mine?"
"I don't pay much attention to eyes," said the first boy, shrugging and pushing his bangs aside, revealing startlingly clear gray eyes. "There's been a lot of blond-haired boys through here, mate, but… think the new kid looks like this one, Dusty?"
`Dusty' curled his knees up to his chest, examining Adrian closely. "Bit. His nose is a lot bigger, though."
"No, it isn't," piped up one of the two girls by the bookshelf. She turned around, brushing aside wisps of straight black hair and studying him closely with keen, dark eyes. "This one is just smaller, that's all. What's your name?"
"Adrian."
The girl looked around at her companion, who was looking up from the beaten bookshelf and examining Adrian as well.
"I'm Yasmine," she said kindly, "How old are you?"
"Eight." Adrian said rather shortly. She smiled.
"So am I. You said your brother was bigger-ten, right?"
"Yes, that's right." Adrian sounded resigned. "What are you all doing here, anyway?"
Yasmine looked at him in surprise. "Don't you know?"
"Well, no, not really-"
"But you know, don't you?" Yasmine looked at Harry and Hermione. Hermione shook her head. She sighed and twirled a curl of her hair around her finger.
"We're waiting to be claimed," she said at last, looking around at the others. "Some of us have been here since we were born."
"Claimed?" Hermione repeated. There was an undercurrent of disbelief in her voice as she stepped forward, past Harry and coming to stand in front of Yasmine. "What do you mean?"
Yasmine gazed back at Hermione, a rather sober look coming over her face.
"You know," she said after a pause. She swallowed, a strangely defiant look overtaking her features. "Adopted."
This caused an explosion of noise in the room.
"You don't know that I'm an orphan, Yazzy!' Dusty cried indignantly, "You don't know anything about any of us! Someone might come for me. A great-aunt or something…"
"But honestly, Dustin!" Yasmine said with a forced sort of logic. "If they wanted me, they would have come much earlier… for all of us."
Hermione's eyes were glistening with tears as she looked around at all of them. She licked her lips and whispered into the silence that followed, "You mean… that this is where you live… permanently?"
Yasmine's lip was trembling, but she raised her chin and looked up into Hermione's face. "Yes. The five of us; we've all been here for as long as we can remember."
"Not long, for Jackie here," said the first boy nonchalantly. "Come off it, Yaz. No one here expects to be claimed, not really. At least we've got food and clothes, right?"
"You might not care, Jack." Yasmine whirled around, her eyes flashing. "But some of us do. You don't care about anything!"
"Oh, stop it." Jack snapped angrily, "I care about you lot, don't I? Who managed to get Healer Smitt to give Jackie her bear? Was it you?"
"Just because she has your name…"
"Oh, so you're playing the favorites card now, are you?" Jack said rather bitingly. "What, jealous?"
"Stop it!" The girl next to Yasmine suddenly stopped the argument in its tracks with a shrill whistle. "Would you just grow up, all of you? We shouldn't be arguing in front of them. It's not polite."
"Oh, you're one for manners," muttered Jack rather snidely. "Just because you're a year old than me, Katy…"
"Who's playing cards now, Jack?" said Yasmine snappishly. Katy shot her a warning glance.
"Give it a rest, Yaz," she said firmly. She looked over at Harry and Hermione with apologetic blue-green eyes, swinging her auburn braids back over her shoulders in a nervous jerk. "Sorry. We're all rather tired."
Hermione was looking around at the room with dismay and indignation, and looked as though she were about to say something, but then a kindly, rather wide woman with rather stiff, curly hair came bustling in with a large cart of plastic trays of food.
"Come along, loves. Eat up!"
"Are you Healer Smitt?" There was an oddly purposeful look in Hermione's eyes as she strode past the children crowding around the trays. "Hermione Granger."
"Oh, yes, Gordon's trainee." Healer Smitt smiled warmly at Hermione. "What can I do for you?"
"We're looking for this boy's brother." Hermione began, but as she did, Adrian suddenly barreled past her, yelling shrilly.
"Ben! Ben! It's me!"
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