Ambrose’s eyelids fluttered open. His face was pressed into his pillow, his left cheek flat against the linen. His eyelashes dragged as he tried to blink, his nose suddenly acutely aware this pillow wasn’t the one he slept on at home, but instead smelled of sage and was that eucalyptus?

There was the sound of glass chinking against other glass, but not the sound of drinkers toasting in a pub, more the rattle of a charmed pot wash in its kitchen. With them came voices, conversations, their rhythms very much like the ones at work.

Ambrose pressed his hands against the mattress and lifted his head and shoulders up, shaking out the crick in his neck from lying on his front. It was then he felt the strange tingling sensation over the throb of his arse cheeks.

“Wha…?” Ambrose drew his left knee up, twisting to look back down the bed.

“Ambrose!” Francis Pepper exclaimed, hurriedly setting down a china teacup and saucer. The Daily Prophet spilled from his lap, the broadsheets crumpling as they slid to the tiled floor. “Don’t move too quick, son. Imagine it’ll smart still…” He was on his feet, hands to the back of his eldest son’s shoulders.

“You’re in St Mungo’s, you’ve been out for an hour. They said it was best to let you come round in your own time after the shock.” His hands squeezed, an attempt to convey parental reassurance.

“It’ll be alright, they said you could retake it in a fortnight,” he patted, “happens to the best of us on first try…”

Ambrose blinked in confusion at his father, but obeyed out of any better idea at that moment. Instead, he tried to remember what day it was and why on earth he had ended up in hospital. Naturally, his father wasn’t truly filling in the gaps, life preferred to play out even the shortest of mysteries.

“Retake it?” Ambrose echoed, still lost, until his brain caught up. Colour drained from his already pale face, and then flushed bright red as ever. “My test!”

He buried his face into the pillow again, this time nose first. Oh Merlin no. Today was his apparition test. He’d been bricking it quietly and barely eaten any breakfast, not wanting to vomit it up.

Why does nothing go right for me first time? He groaned inwardly, face pressed hard into the astringent smelling pillow.

"Ambrose Pepper is awake Healer Misslethorpe." Said Healer in Training Micke Näktergal. He was shadowing Sandy today. Useful to have an assistant. But he was keen. Hurrying from one patient to another.
"Splendid." Said Sandy. "We have time to stop by."

"Mr Pepper. Ambrose." Francis was still sat beside his son. Sandy knew the family. They were old friends. But it was the first time he had healed Ambrose. "Ambrose nice to meet you. I am Healer Misslethorpe. This is Healer in Training Näktergal. How are you feeling?"

He paused only a second to hear the reply. "Very good. You splinched. Most people splinch an arm or maybe a leg. You splinched your backside. The Department of Magical Transport did their best to locate them but you were brought here urgently. Not a problem. Buttocks grow back with the right potion. Näktergal here took care of that."

“Mr Pepper. Ambrose.” Ambrose recognised that voice, but it took a moment to place it as he contorted to look over his shoulder.
“Ambrose, nice to meet you. I am Healer Misslethorpe….”
“Oh Merlin,” Ambrose muttered to himself, wanting the ground to open up and swallow him. Last time he’d run into Sandy Misslethorpe he’d been looking forward to taking up his apprenticeship and in the bank with his dad. It was bad enough ending up at a healer’s without them knowing your family. Ambrose hadn’t even considered the Healer in Training also peering down at him.

“How are you feeling?”
“Erm… alright?” Ambrose offered one of the standard British responses to such a question, adequately hiding the truth that he wasn’t anything like ‘alright’. 
“Very good. You splinched… your backside…”

Splinched his arse off?!?!?

“… did their best to locate them…” Healer Misslethorpe continued but Ambrose had tuned out for a moment in horrific, toe curling… arse clenching embarrassment. How was he ever going to live this down? That sort of thing was going to be all round the office. Transport loved to tell tales and this was going to secure him as the butt of all jokes.

“… grow back with the right potion. Näktergal here took care of that…”

Ambrose squirmed, looked over his other shoulder at the Healer in Training, hoping that he was better at potions than Ambrose was at apparating.
“How long will it take to regrow?” He asked with urgency, and then in a quieter voice he added, “… and will they be the same?”

Francis was sure that Sandy was being so formal because of the presence of his trainee. They’d known each other decades, but Sandy always was the posher one. He’d grown up in money whereas the Peppers had always been comfortable but not rolling in it like the Misslethorpes had been.

Sandy didn’t spare any time in informing Ambrose of his predicament from splinching. The seventeen year old looked mortified, beetroot red. Francis bit his lip in second-hand embarrassment for the encounter. But in reality, he was incredibly glad Ambrose had only splinched something which could be fixed, and not hurt more seriously. It had been worth every galleon to pay for the private lessons with one of the Department of Magical Transport’s instructors, to give Ambrose extra time to work on the skill. Not that it was all that common to pass first time, after all. Many people never even began the training to take the test.

"Not long at all." Said Sandy. Reassuring. "It is likely to be finished later this afternoon. But you must promise to take it easy for two days. Not to sit down for longer than ten minutes at a time. Or go on a hike. That sort of thing." This was very important. One could end up with flat buttocks. Or droopy ones. Like an old man. Requiring more potions. More spells. Painful.

"I need to take a look. Check everything is growing back nicely. Do you mind...?"

“Not long at all,” Healer Misslethorpe replied without skipping a beat. He made it sound like they did this daily, which in a way, reassured Ambrose. He issued instructions about not sitting down for long, or hiking around. Should he just stand very still or remain lying on his front for the next two days? He’d have to tell Mr Fournier he couldn’t work… and why. The bed better swallow him whole.

“I need to take a look. Check everything is growing back nicely. Do you mind…?” Ambrose’s stomach lurched at this news.
“Oh.” He replied, staring back at the pillow before him, “Right.” He looked over his other shoulder, face creased awkwardly, “Dad, do you mind?” This was awkward enough as it was without his father gawping at it too.

“Not like I haven’t seen it,” Francis replied softly but with good humour. He’d changed enough of Ambrose’s nappies and brought him up! “But of course son. I’ll be right outside.”  Without further pause, Ambrose’s father stepped out of sight behind the curtains drawn around the hospital bed.

Ambrose willed his backside to look normal.

The Deputy Head Healer and Healer in Training Näktergal examined Ambrose's buttocks. They were a rude shade of pink. Reinflating like balloons.
"Very good." Healer Misslethorpe agreed. Let the sheet drop back. "Now be a good fellow and rest there. It is important not to disturb the regrowing process. If one wants properly restored buttocks." A young wizard like Ambrose would want it to heal well. "Näktergal will come back about three o'clock to give them a final look before you go home." Sandy had seen a lot of bottoms in his time but he did not need to see Ambrose Pepper's again today! "Do you have any questions Ambrose?"

Ambrose wasn’t sure how to feel about two wizards studying his bum and declaring it ‘very good’. Later he’d feel a kind of relief, but at that moment all he felt was intense heat and the hope that nobody else could see his arse.

“Näktergal will come back about three o'clock to give them a final look …”

Oh joy.

“Do you have any questions Ambrose?”

“Er… no.. I don’t think so…” Ambrose mumbled, still rather out of step with what had happened to him that day. His bum would grow back as long as he didn’t move now and he didn’t sit down or do anything strenuous for a couple of days. That was right, wasn’t it?

“… Thanks?” He offered awkwardly, not wishing to prolong this uncomfortable interaction much longer. “Can you tell my dad he can come back now?”

"Certainly." Said Healer Misslethorpe. "Good day Mr Pepper." The healers stepped out. "Francis." Sandy nodded politely. "All's well. Must get on." He began to walk away. Looked back over his shoulder. "Be good to see you some day. Dinner or drinks. Expect you can make the time." He smirked. "Expect an owl."

“Er.. thank you.. Sandy.” Francis was taken by surprise. The formality in front of the Trainee Healer from his friend had made Francis adopt it too until this parting remark. “That would be good - I’ll speak with Gabrielle.”

He gave a little bow and returned to Ambrose and his regrowing buttocks. What a day…

End