A loud pained yell of “Argh!” was released, travelling from the curtained cubicle and around the ward of St Mungo’s. Following it was a great deal of swearing in a cockney accent seething with anger and pain. In the cubicle, behind the badly decorated curtains were two men. The first was dressed smartly in a pristine set of crimson aurors robes, black trousers, a black open necked shirt and boots. Proudly displayed on the belt of the auror’s trousers was a shiny gold badge, giving him authority in practically any area in the country. Including this hospital cubicle.

The second wizard was laid out on the bed spread-eagled, each limb pulled from his body and attached to the bed by thick magical rope. His beige trousers were stained and dripping with a thick purple puss on one leg. He must have been about 19 years old and his youthful face was red, streaming with tears of pain. The older wizard rather obviously didn’t care for this as he twisted his wrist, spinning he wand that was pointed at the wizard’s ankle and causing the rope to tighten just enough to make it uncomfortable.

With the wizard in the place, Auror Pratt returned his wand to the holster on his belt and pulled from his pocket a scroll of parchment. Arresting and injuring a suspect always led to something Eddie hated after the excitement. Parchment work. It was right now, being stood in the cubicle having to wait for the boy to be healed before he could take him in, and having so much parchment to fill in that Eddie cursed himself for not having brought a trainee to do that bit for him.

Not a word was spoken to the criminal as he lay in the bed whimpering like a pathetic child. Instead Pratt took a quill from his pocket, helped himself to the clipboard at the end of the bed and began to make a head start on this least favourite thing to do in life.

"A moment, Healer Thorpe?"

Vivienne, dressed in civilian clothes, was descending the stairs from the fifth floor when one of the senior mediwitches engaged her in conversation. Break was barely over and she had, in an attempt to avoid the usual fair of the canteen, eaten at the hospital tearoom instead. Truly, one could only consume so much of blandly boiled carrots and cabbage or Merlin knew what they were serving the staff today. Not that the sandwiches upstairs were much better; but they better sustained her genial state of mind this afternoon, and so she greeted her colleague with an easy smile.

"We've just admitted a young felon, I'm afraid, and none of the younger Healers are especially wont to treat him. Bloody mess, that leg," the mediwitch explained, clearly quite peeved by both the healers and criminal: "You won't mind, would you? Poor thing's in pain. There's no danger, an auror will be there through the entire procedure"

Trying to keep her smile in place, Viv shook her head at the older woman: "Not at all," she replied. Although, in her opinion, much of the danger usually stemmed from the fact that there was an auror in the treatment room, "He's in the ward oui? I'll deal with it at once."

Better to get this over with. They exchanged a few more words before the Healer left; heading straight for the short-term patient ward and only stopping at the breakroom to slip on set of their lime green uniform over her day dress. She was securing the robes at the front when she walked in through the open doors of the ward-- knowing without looking up, exactly where she was going.

And she was at the cubicle curtains in a heartbeat. Criminals were just as bad... well, alright, worse than aurors. They were altogether nastier and had no issues whatsoever with treating their Healers badly. Vivienne pressed her lips in a stern, serious look before she drew open the curtains. "Good afternoon," she said in a professional tone and then, a little abruptly, frowned at the sight before her.

Jésus, that boy was in pain. This was not how they did things at St.Mungo's. It wasn't how she did things, she thought as she quickly turned to the auror in charge: "What the hell is going on he--"

Eddie? Viv stared at the wizard, almost affronted by his presence in the space. "What are you doing here?" she asked incredulously, though she obviously knew the answer to that question.

"Good afternoon," a familiar voice found Eddie’s ears and he glanced up from the parchment, having showed his shock by a momentary twitch of his lip which had been present for less than a second. Immediately the auror returned to his plain expression as he eyed the witch before him. It had only been this morning that he’d shared breakfast with his suspect’s healer when she had been wearing much less than what now covered her pretty figure. Yet she was still a vision in lime green.

Until she locked eyes with Ed and demanded none too pleasantly why he was there. A dark blond eyebrow cocked as the auror stared at her. Surely it was completely obvious why he was there, waiting impatiently in a hospital cubicle with a 19 year old wizard tied to a bed and oozing slime from his leg. Granted, Viv probably hadn’t expected her favourite auror in the world to be there waiting for her, but Eddie hadn’t planned on it being her to enter the cubicle. She got around rather a bit didn’t she...?

“I’m legally obliged to wait with the offender, Healer Thorpe.” Pratt found himself stating, his voice dripping with a well practiced professionalism as he lowered the clipboard and glanced at the crying boy’s leg. “His name’s Habberknackle.”

Part of Eddie wanted to step over to Viv and give her a kiss in greeting. He wanted to offer her a cheeky smile and explain why exactly they were in such a situation. He had a good idea what she thought of aurors now. But he was in uniform and he had a dark wizard to drag into the ministry as soon as she’d done her job and he was going to show no signs of humanity.

Habberknackle.

Vivienne watched the green-eyed wizard carefully, as one would eye a volatile Hippogriff in the same room, listening more to the tone of his response than to its actual content. Well-contained, proficient. It was almost calming that he didn't greet her with the warm familiarity she would have expected... after all, nobody in the hospital knew she was sleeping with an auror and she would prefer if it stayed that way.

"Oui... I see." The Healer closed the gap between herself and the bed, drawing near to the patient as she decided not to allow Ed Pratt to distract her from work.

Because, make no mistake-- even in those annoying red robes, he could easily have proven to be a distraction. She was fighting a very natural instinct to flash the man a teasing smile or wrap an arm around his, perfectly companionable.

Her grey gaze focused on the young man in the bed, tied back and evidently in a lot pain. She noted the position, any indicators of physical strain and then, finally, the oozing injury, before glancing back to Eddie with a serious expression. A wall of professionalism stood quite solidly between them, compromising her affections.

"What did you do to him, Auror Pratt?" she asked detachedly: "We do not generally approve of our patients being bound up like animals," Viv gently placed a hand on the felon's uninjured leg, meeting the boy's reddened eyes with a placid look. Neither sympathetic or unkind.

Had he not been watching himself and his behaviour Eddie would have scoffed at the accusation of ‘doing’ something to the felon restrained in the bed. Perhaps a more sensible question would be to ask what the vermin had done to warrant being hexed and taken into custody by an auror. It was normally a hitwizard’s job to capture the crooks. Nevertheless, now wasn’t the time to go into that. Pratt had a soon to be convicted criminal to get healed and lock up and a girlfriend asking daft questions and making unnecessary comments.

“Whether ye appreciate it or not, Healer, this animal is stayin’ bound up.” Green eyes flashed to the younger wizard’s leg then to his face. Eddie would eat his own hand, digest it and watch it come out the other end before he would unbind this particular boy anytime before they would leave for the ministry and cushy cell with four walls, no windows and a stone bench for comfort. Making his decision even more certain was Vivienne’s presence in the room. He would never dream of putting his sexy French woman in danger and wished it hadn’t been her to come into the cubicle in the first place. Work and private life were supposed to be kept very separate.

Pratt drew his eyes away from Habberknackle and looked back down at his procured clipboard. “This piece of shit’s gonna be tied up like the animal he is in a worse place than this when he’s been patched up and brand spanking bloody new.”

The boy groaned and whimpered, releasing a mutter of “I didn’t do it...” which only caused a raised eyebrow from the auror who began to scribble the lad’s name on the form.

“My eyes must have been lying to me then. Ye’ll have to tell yer new cellmate in Azkaban. I’ll make sure they stick ye in with one of the other six hundred innocents we’ve thrown in there.”

There was something altogether unnerving and impressive about watching Ed Pratt at work, or listening to him work anyway. Yet Vivienne still wished that she hadn't been the Healer approached to deal with this case; she acknowledged what her auror did for a living but she didn't want to have to face it like this.

When the patient started protesting his innocence it was all she could do, not to flinch. Jésus, were all those ropes necessary? Injured or not-- that could not have been comfortable and certainly not in the least bit humane. It was unorthodox conduct. Aurors normally didn't come in with their criminals. Vivienne bit her lower lip worriedly.

Non, she wasn't going to argue with him about this. Their personal connection would have made it too difficult to say anything in front of the patient and she wasn't sure if she even wanted to further aggravate her auror. He didn't look like he was having a good day.

"Alright then," Viv murmured in a passive tone as she avoided looking at Eddie and turned to fully face the treatment bed, wand in hand.

Priorities. Healing first; anything else could come afterwards. Her hands went to work pushing away strands of trouser material from around the leg wound, avoiding the purple puss that had an odd smell to it. Like bad fish and camphor. Viv wrinkled her nose. Basic laceration... infected. Deep and probably aimed in a rush. "This is going to hurt a little," she told him and, upon obtaining a sterilized cloth from the bedside cabinet, began to gently sponge away the puss.

Vivienne worked quietly to the whimpering and to the sound of Ed's quill moving against parchment. Cleansing potion was applied to treat the infection until it was more crimson than purple. "I'm closing the wound now," she broke the silence but didn't look away from the leg.

Her wand moved around the edges of the laceration, glowing-- the opening began to shrink close.  When she pulled her wand away, it was closing in on its own.

"He's going to need a half hour before he is... brand spanking new," Viv stole from Eddie's previous statement. Her grey gaze finally shifted to the wizard: "That was a very disagreeable injury. I assume you are unharmed, then, Auror Pratt?"

It was a roundabout way of ensuring he was fine before she dragged him out for a private word.

"That was a very disagreeable injury. I assume you are unharmed, then, Auror Pratt?"

Eddie finally looked up from his clipboard and caught Viv’s gaze. She wasn’t hoping he was hurt so she could play Missus Healer to him was she? Eddie hadn’t liked it the first time and he certainly wasn’t going to make her aware next time he got injured. There was something distinctly wrong about having your sexy French woman mopping blood from your recently received leg wound. She’d done a good job, yes. But Eddie hadn’t liked it and didn’t want her healing him again. He didn’t like hospitals and potions and healing spells. He wasn’t a hitwizard after all.

The auror didn’t even glance up as he responded to the witch he’d woken up next to that morning.
“Oh course I’m unharmed, healer.” His tone was plain, professional with none of the warmth he usually had when speaking to Viv. The quill stopped in his work and Eddie lowered the clip board, letting the top drop down onto the injured leg. A loud yell exploded from Habberknackle’s lungs and Eddie ignored it, looking instead at Vivienne.

“Half an hour?” The northern brogue questioned. “That’s a joke right? I ‘ent bloody waitin’ fer this scum to have a lie down for thirty minutes . I’ve got work to do and he’s got a cell to get cosy in.”

Some reactions couldn't be helped-- and as much as Vivienne would have liked to continue observing her auror in working state, she found herself immediately looking towards the patient when he yelled out in pain. What the hell was wrong with Ed Pratt? Her grey eyes tensed on Habbernackle's healing wound for a moment, to ensure it was alright, and then shifted to the green eyed wizard who didn't seem the least perturbed by his own actions.

"That’s a joke right? I ‘ent bloody waitin’ fer this scum to have a lie down for thirty minutes. I’ve got work to do and he’s got a cell to get cosy in,” Eddie wasn't doing himself any favours in the relationship department today.

Viv pursed her lips together seriously as she met his gaze. Rationally, she understood that this was his job and naturellement, he had to be very tough around criminals. But this wasn't tough. It was just cruel and she couldn't help, in a rush of emotion, but feel more angry with him now than she ever did with a member of the MLE.

"Non. I do not joke about these things, auror," the witch glared across: "You will wait the thirty minutes before taking this wizard away or he'll only end up back here again with a worse injury."

And Merlin knew what would become of the poor thing then. Vivienne made a soft gesture towards the cubicle curtain: "Now, could I have a word with you outside?" They would probably have move into a different corridor to ensure Habberknacle wasn't listening. "A mediwitch will watch the boy," she added in a distracted voice and -- without waiting for a response -- turned to leave the room.

In the past few seconds Eddie had forgotten he was in some sort of relationship with this witch. He’d forgotten about their morning at his cottage drinking coffee in their underwear on the patio in his back garden. Now she was a protocol following healer that had an issue with her patient, his detainee being tied up ‘like an animal’. She wanted to keep him there on the comfy bed to relax and get comfortable, no doubt think up excuses and reasons for his protested innocence while Eddie just wanted to drag his hide into an interrogation room in the ministry, get that Merlin dammed confession and toss him in a cell.

Eddie Pratt was never likely to make a caring healer.

Now Viv was asking him to come outside for a word and by the look on her face it wasn’t going to be a pleasant ‘I hope your day improves, sweetheart’ word. No, it looked like it was set to be a ‘you’re just like every other violence loving auror, Eddie!’ sort of word.

Green eyes shot to the boy who was perfectly well restrained in place and still red faced in pain. He looked back at Viv who was already heading out through the curtain.

“Of course.” The auror muttered to himself before letting his feet carry him after her and through the curtain where he spotted the mediwitch approaching at Viv’s beckoning. A strong hand touched the mediwitch’s arm and Eddie quietly but sternly instructed her “Under no circumstances are you to do anything to those restraints. Any problems, alert me straight away.” And with that Eddie followed Viv out into the ward and finally through the doors to the corridor.

The ward doors had barely swung close behind Ed Pratt when Vivienne turned around and fixed the wizard with a glare so malevolent that she hardly knew she was capable of it. There was a familiar flavour to the moment; it reminded her of the first time she had met him. It didn't seem so long ago now.

Except, this time, she was under no obligation to be nice. "Are you out of your mind?" The fourth floor corridor was fortunately quite empty at the time, although Viv's vexation echoed around the corner and might have warded off anyone thinking about passing by. She very rarely expressed anger-- so when she did, most preferred not to confront it.

"Jésus, what the fuck is wrong with you? I know he's a criminal but you don't have to treat him like an animal," the Healer felt the colour rise in her cheeks as she stared at her auror balefully: "You bring him in, we heal him and that is it. I don't belie--" she cut herself off suddenly and bit her lower lip anxiously.

That was the problem; she couldn't believe what an utter brute he was. Dropping that clipboard like that! Verbally abusing the patient! Viv sighed heatedly. "Is it too much to ask for that you act like a gentleman around the patients? They're already injured."

Her grey gaze remained glued to his face and she tried not to think about how those lips, which she'd only just kissed this morning, could be capable of such harsh language. Eddie was no silver-tongued Lothario but she didn't expect him to speak so violently of a convict that had already been apprehended.

As he’d set black boot out of the cubicle and into the corridor outside the ward with Vivienne, Eddie Pratt had expected some irritated words. She hadn’t looked impressed in the curtained cubicle with him treating her patient, his arrestee with such disdain, such a lack of human compassion. She was a healer, she had to be kind and respectful to her patients and make them feel comfortable. But her...whatever Eddie was to her, had a job to do.

The onslaught that came from the angry healer had been a little more than expected.

“I know full well he was already injured, Viv.” The auror retorted, keeping his voice low but a building anger was evident in his tone. “I was the one who injured him.” His hands smoothly found his hips, left hand sweeping the red robes back to reveal the holster where his wand sat for easy access, golden auror’s badge proudly gleaming on the belt of his black trousers.

Eddie was biting back his words, fury beginning to show in his throbbing temple while the rest of his expression remained stoic, the well practiced ability to control your expression, the outward display of your emotions. But this was personal. She was a witch he was dating; she dared to tell him how to handle the scum he’d been dealing with for over a decade.

“Don’t you dare tell me how to handle an abhorrent murderer like that, Viv. He is not a patient, he is a prisoner. Do you think he was a gentleman when he took those muggle girls and sliced their throats open after using an unforgivable on them? How about you get off your fuckin’ podium and do your job while I do mine?”

Simon walked down the hall, clip board in hand. Today had been a busy day for everyone; despite the chaotic attack on the hospital earlier in the summer, life went on. He still had patients too take care of, paperwork to read and process, and paper work to write.

His clip board for today had been a long one before he'd scrawled in his own notes. File this,  see to that, oversee the new trainees. At some point he needed to eat - still hadn't gotten to that, despite pointed looks from Falkenrath her loud 'tut tut'ing.

Simon sighed, quietly, as he wove his way through the ward in to the emergency section...only to encounter raised voices. Raised voices weren't always unusual, either. It was who was engaged in said raised voices that made Simon raise an eyebrow.

Well, one of the people involved, anyway. Edward Pratt raising his voice was about as odd as coffee being brown.

"Ahem," Simon said, striding up to the two; his usual polite expression replaced with barely masked annoyance. "Mister Pratt, I would appreciate you not addressing our healers in that manner. What seems to be the isuue?"

Get off her podium? Do her job?

Vivienne Thorpe stared agape at the auror wizard, altogether horrified and vexed by his insinuations. She was doing her job! And her job, as far as she was concerned, was to take care of the patient. Yes she found herself at loss for words... at least momentarily. The violent image he had put into her head, of Habberknackle's crime, was enough to make her nauseated. They received all manners of injuries on the fourth floor but outright torture and murder was not something the Healer could claim acquaintance with. This wasn't a morgue.

An interruption saved her from having to come up with a retort. Vivienne turned her head at the sound of the Healer-in-Charge clearing his throat and her grey gaze was calmed upon setting itself on his figure. Greenburg's professional manner was placating.

"Mister Pratt, I would appreciate you not addressing our healers in that manner. What seems to be the isuue?"

Viv doubted that Simon would appreciate the other ways in which Eddie addressed her, either. "Nothing of importance," she quickly answered before the other could: "Auror Pratt and I were simply... disagreeing on the treatment of his criminal." Her cheeks were red with upset but she straightened herself, in an attempt not to look quite as emotionally involved as she felt.

Tentatively, she glanced at Eddie, first at his general appearance and then meeting his eyes: "Of my patient, I mean."

Mister Pratt span around to allow his bright green eyes to fall on the other healer. Viv’s boss, a wizard that Eddie had had several dealings with. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been called ‘Mister Pratt’. That had been his Dad, not him. The surprise at the form of address was extremely short lived when the male mediwitch proceeded to tell him off for the disagreement Viv and he were presently in the middle of. It was none of this bloke’s business and Eddie opened him mouth to tell him exactly this when Vivienne jumped in before.

Viv’s eyes met Eddie’s but he didn’t show her any emotional reaction. He’d rather quickly gone back into his stoic work mode, plain expression while the restrained kindness in his eyes very slightly gave him away. He was irritated with her, yes. Her belief that all patients should be treated like royalty regardless of what they’d done was farfetched and something from a fairytale, but Eddie couldn’t ignore the giant soft spot he had with this feisty witch.

“My detainee.” The auror finally spoke, thrusting his hands into the deep pockets of his long scarlet auror robes. “A simple conflict o’interests between V-Healer Thorpe and meself. Nowt worth gettin’ yerself involved in, Mister Greenburg.”

Simon wanted to sigh, and managed to hold it back. Such tension was not entirely unusual with the red-headed Auror in the building; Pratt tended to be rather too eager to put his boots in for the comfort of many healers. And, of course, many of their Healers didn't take that well. There was a reason his sister had complained so much when she'd brought criminals in: She'd been much like Pratt.

Perhaps that was why, in his heart of hearts, Simon didn't really mind Edward Pratt.

Of course, the fact that Thorpe was to quick to claim there was no issue just made him wonder at her for a moment; from what he knew of the woman she didn't seem the type to back down quite so quickly. He straightened his shoulders and frowned at both of them before he looked at Pratt.

"I trust you took no unnecessary action, Mister Pratt," he said, his emphasis and gaze making it very clear he suspected Eddie had done exactly that. "It would be of benefit to none of us to prolong your detainee's stay with us, after all." It was just much a suggestion as a request. Given Simon's official manner, one might have even seen it as a nicely-given order. It was certainly a request he was only going to make once.

He looked to Vivienne. "I trust your patient is doing well, Thorpe?" No Auror-boot-shaped bruises in need of mending?