6 December 2011
Tuesday at 11:15pm
Infirmary

Unknown to most, one of Knox Greyfriar's best kept secrets was his having been a Healer out of Hogwarts. Calamity and redemption lead him from the practice, and what remained was patina'd skill and a disinterist in addressing his past. Also in dearth: a Healer for Hogwarts. Their current Healer was on extended sabbatical in the furthest reaches of remote Australia these last weeks, leaving Hogwarts wanting for expert care.

So far they'd made do with the know-how of Hogwarts staff and sending ailing students straight to St. Mungo's Hospital in London. But on this evening poor Zeta Pepper was in a bad way and Knox Greyfriar couldn't make heads or tails of hit. And without knowing the cause of her troubles, Apparition was not advisable. And so the Headmaster of Hogwarts had sent an elf to Miranda Storm who lived not so far away in Hogsmeade. (He would have sent an owl if he was sure she'd respond at this our.) The elf delivered a note that read:

Miranda,
My regrets to wake you, but our Zeta Pepper is in a bad way. Please come at once.
K. Greyfriar

He waited by Zeta's bedside where she was tossing and turning very uncomfortable. He'd applied cool compress for the fever and offered a cup of dittany tea, but the sixth year Hufflepuff had no relief. His only other amelioration was to gently rub her back and drone on about the garden he'd left overgrowing at his garden in the little stone house in Kent.

"... the rabbits can have it, if I'm honest. They debarked my raspberries, topped the flowers from my tomatoes, and ate the greens from my radishes. But who can stay mad at a rabbit? I've laid out a feast in their domain and they were clever enough to solve my fences. I just consider myself bested. Bested by bunnies... There there dear, a proper Healer's on the way."

"Myugh..."

Zeta brought her knees to her chest. It had come suddenly just as the girls were settling in for bed. Dizziness, raging hot head, and a spreading rash of what looked like fuzzy black fur. It had started high on her chest and elbows and itched horribly. Her housemates helped her to the Head of House who'd helped her to the Infirmary and notified the Headmaster. He'd sent the rest of the girls to bed hoping to avoid the possibility of an epidemic.

"I'm dying..." she moaned.

Rather fortunately, the elf hadn’t woken Miranda as she slept very odd hours. She and Ignan had been in the living room ensconced in a game of wizard’s chess and a bottle of red wine when the door had been knocked. Despite her mild irritation and the fact that she’d had a couple of glasses of wine, Miranda agreed that she would come and reluctantly took the elf’s hand for them to apparate.

Less than a second later, the tiny elf and the dark-haired witch landed on the floor in the hospital wing. Miranda, much hating any sort of apparation, stepped forward and grabbed a nearby bed to regain her balance.

“This kid better be dying, Greyfriar.” The Head Healer greeted her former boss and now her husband’s boss. He was a kind man but with a flair for the dramatic. Was this all drama too? “One more move and I’d have had his Queen. Now he’s got time to consider an escape.” Miranda wasn’t normally any good at wizard’s chess. It involved tactics. Her tactics involved barging in and that never worked against a player such as her husband. “Do you know how hard it is to beat my husband at chess? You think his poker face is bad enough…”

Dark eyes swept over the girl, assessing the situation quickly. She sighed loudly. “Not dying. You really need to replace your absconder, Knox.”

Knox Greyfriar was completely amused hearing spousal reports from Miranda now Storm regarding her stoic husband, his own ostensible right hand at Hogwarts. Like all the students, it was difficult for Knox to imagine Ignan Storm engaged in a diversion. But would have been equally hard to imagine Miranda, Hogwarts Healer herself once briefly, finding love in the way she had. Knox had no criticisms of fate's funny ways, not in this case. They suited each other. Plus, it had kept Miranda close to help in his predicament.

"Not dying," Knox quickly echoed Madam Storm to reassure Zeta Pepper.

Then to Miranda, "and don't I know it. I rather hope no parents find out, but that will probably have to happen when I publish an ad in the Daily Prophet. Unless you can assist me in a whisper network?,"

He looked up from Zeta and over his shoulder to Miranda. "Anyone you'd be willing to let go of? Someone passionate about running noses, slug-vomiting, and home-sickness? The pay's not good and the staircases move, but supplies are provided."

The old bear winked, knowing full well how difficult it would be to pry any of the good ones out of Mungo's.

Turning back to Zeta. "Miss Pepper, won't you provide the litany of ailments to Madam Storm?"

Zeta was aware and relieved a real Healer had shown up. As kindly as the Headmaster was, he didn't seem like he could properly apply a self-sticking plaster. She opened one eye to have a look at the pretty older witch standing there dressed so nicely.

"Storm?" she asked with furrowed brow. She shut her eyes again and shook her head.

"Sorry. Um. I'm hot and gross and dizzy. And I'm getting furry." She shifted to her back and pulled her sleep t-shirt down a few inches to show her collarbones. They were sprouted with patchy short black fur. There were tracks where she'd been itching.

"Elbows, too. Am I cursed?" she asked all blurry.

“Unless you can assist me in a whisper network?” Greyfriar asked and Miranda couldn’t help but smile.
“I’ll see what I can do.” The healer said with a raised eyebrow. “You really do it sell it.” Very few healers would jump at the chance of working at Hogwarts. As Knox had quite clearly put it, they’d be dealing with the dullest of the dull. Storm knew herself from experience. She’d hated it. She was here out of a favour to an old colleague and a sense of duty.

Miss Pepper. Miranda pressed her lips together. Ignan’s cousin was married to a Pepper. Miranda had been dragged to the wedding. It had been as unpleasant as any wedding was expected to be. The wizard still owed her for the torture.

“Furry…” Miranda couldn’t help but smirk as the girl showed her furry collar bones. She glanced sideways at Knox, amused. He looked so concerned.
“Miss Pepper,” The head healer crossed her arms, clearly in no rush or any concern. “Have you seen any black cats recently?”

"No," Zeta answered and pulled the covers up to her nose. Now she was cold.

But after a second she turned her head, just her eyes over the edge of the blanket. "Yes. In Hogsmeade," came her muffled reply.

"Over the weekend. We almost stepped on him. It was an accident."

They had their arms loaded down with their purchases from the second-hand clothing shop. She lowered the blanket, inspecting Madam Storm's face.

"Are you serious? I thought that wasn't really a thing, a black cat's curse. A cat cursed me? Oh, Merlin."

Almost stepped on a black cat. Accident or not. Miranda, probably unnerving for the young girl and the headmaster, smirked in amusement. Rather quickly, the girl caught on, and the healer found herself rolling her eyes.

“The cat itself didn’t curse you. Cats can’t speak, silly girl. The black cats curse cursed you. Completely different thing.” Any sane person would be able to see as such. What sort of world with Miss Pepper live in where regular black cats spoke? Miranda considered what her own cat would say if it could speak. To be fair, it didn’t dare thinking about. Words from their nameless cat would no doubt be a litany of abuse and questions for why Ignan treated him so sourly and why he still had no name other than ‘cat’.

“So,” Storm crossed her arms and switched her weight to rest on her right leg. She momentarily ignored Greyfriar. “You’re not too dense that you couldn’t figure out it was a curse. How do you retract it, Miss Pepper? Do you know that?”