Jason’s week had been like the riptide; it started off gentle, and before you knew it, you couldn’t swim back to shore. The Daily Prophet was on his desk, names on parchment on top of it, a list of families he had started to visit as per his Head Healer’s instruction. A few were marked off already. There had been a lot of anger and devastating emptiness in the ones he’d met with already.

He much preferred to grieve with them at the hospital. He had warned of the stupidity of going to their homes again and again. After the last family, the Whezlebit’s, had hexed his hat to try and suffocate him, he’d decided that the fools errand she had entrusted her Healer’s in Charge with was done.

If she wanted it done so badly, she could add it to her mountain of work she already had. And he planned to say as much in their next Charge meeting.

For now, he had other things to focus on. Once the hat was charmed off his head, it went for the head of cabbage he’d had in his kitchen. It was after that that he decided perhaps he’d work on his own pile of work, and he’d headed in, sans hat.

Jason was leaned back in his chair, staring down his nose at reports, counting it one by one with a quill. Once he had gotten through a row, he quickly jotted the number down before moving on to the next. He was merely double checking their Wolfsbane numbers; the full moon was a week and a half away, and they had a lot of prep to do. Making sure all their potions were safe was top priority, and he’d already sent out a letter to all their usual monthly residents assuring them of that.

Feet were propped up on his desk, ankles crossed, when the door opened without warning. The cup of coffee had almost made it to his lips - Jason paused upon seeing who it was, sipped his drink, and set it back down, lifting his papers back up to stare at them. “How may I help you, Head Healer?”

It wasn’t often Healer Marren graced the hospital with his presence on a Saturday. Whether it was the fact he had a son he was obliged to spend time with or that he was unwilling to go beyond his rota hours and spend extra time at work, Healer Elliot was unsure. She no longer understood the prospect of weekends and set days off. Over a year working at Durmstrang Intitute had taught the witch that time-off was a privilege that didn’t come often. It had stood her in good stead for becoming a Head Healer when it was hard to leave the hospital and she was forever tethered to the badge while at home.

Today, however, she’d been informed of the Healer-in-charge’s presence on his floor and therefore, she’d decided to bring forward a discussion she’d planned for Monday morning when his hours dictated his attendance.

“How may I help you, Head Healer?” The wizard asked calmly as Miranda entered his office and closed the door behind her with a soft click. Her dark gaze swept over him, lingering on the positioning of his feet; was he at home where he could relax? Did he feel that comfortable in his office? She bit her tongue when a suggestion of him showing up in his pyjamas and slippers next time popped into her mind.

“A Saturday morning, Marren. Aren’t we honoured?” The Head Healer’s tone was soft, a friendly smile on her lips as she came further into his office, a folder in her hands. The atmosphere between herself and Jason Marren had been strained since her return as the Head Healer and his attitude hadn’t made it any easier. “You don’t get paid overtime as a Healer-in-charge, you know.”

Elliot didn’t waste time in lowering herself into a seat opposite him, folder in her lap.
“How are your preparations for next week?”  If Marren had failed to check they had sufficient supplies as of yet, there was still time to rectify the situation. But his boss had trained him. She knew better than that. It was, however, important to check these things; she wouldn’t have been doing her job properly if she didn’t confirm.

Wasn’t she well put together? Jason stared at the paperwork for a few moments longer before letting it rest on his lap, the small stack of paperwork he had already gone through neatly piled up on the other side of the desk. His budget was not as cushy as he’d like, but he was well within his department means for supplies.

Minus the potion mishaps, of course. Everyone was feeling that, though, it definitely wasn’t just him. “Yes... As much as I’d like to redecorate, I thought I’d compare potion prices instead.” He was attempting to be friendly; he even put on a smile. Jason lifted his feet off of the desk and set them down on the floor, stretching as he sat up in his chair.

If she shut the door behind her, that meant she was going to be here for a while. No reason to poke the beast by antagonizing her. He scratched the back of his head before tossing the file back on his desk, motioning to the chairs with his other hand (that still held the quill). “I do know that. It is a salary job.” And as such, it required he be available when he needed to be, including emergencies. For that sort of hazardous job, though, he did bring home a healthy paycheck.

Enough to live comfortably after child support and maintenance, anyway. “Thank you for keeping me on my toes.”

He frowned slightly at her, leaning back in his chair as he twirled the quill slowly between his fingers. She was one to micromanage if she could. Then again, she had also taught him a lot over the years, having been the one to precept him on this very ward a long, long time ago. He’d had a bit more hair back then, and an easier smile too.

Finally he leaned and picked up another folder, that he’d already marked all over, opening it for the Head Healer to see, turning it around for easy reading. “Wolfsbane has been tested and well accounted for. Mor- Miss Morgan was very helpful with that.” The dots were quite helpful, really. “However.” He let out a breath and tapped the next column. “Our healing and pain relief potions are, obviously, well under what we need. How are our suppliers working? Even with one or two healers working around the clock... it’s still a matter of quantity. We don’t have the necessary ingredients to make that much for a just in case scenario.”

He hoped whoever had tampered with their supplies had nothing more diabolical in mind. Jason also could be a realist when he needed to. There had been the time Wolfsbane didn’t work and the Direwolves started popping up. There still wasn’t anything that worked on them all. He sat the quill down and rested his chin in his hand.

“I understand our current limitations, Jason.” The door was closed, they weren’t being joined by anyone, and Miranda chose to become less formal. “If we had a bigger budget and no board above me, it would have been sorted by now. My proposal to the board for in house growing and brewing has finally been accepted this morning and we can make headway now. For the moment we have to make do with what we can get our hands on. My counterpart in Denmark is generously shipping some potions our way tomorrow morning.”

Reaching out to take the file from Jason with her left hand, the witch’s eyes glanced briefly over the diamonds glinting on her wedding finger. It was the first day she’d worn the rings properly. Their secret was out in the open so there was little point in hiding the jewellery.
“There were no contaminants in the wolfsbane anyway,” Miranda had acquainted herself well with all of the details since waking up last month to find her healers had accidentally killed a lot of their patients.

As dark spectacled eyes took in the figures in the file, the Head Healer leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs at the ankles.
“I trust you’ve completed all of your visits as instructed in December?” He’d had enough time.

There was always the fight between patient care and cost. Jason could understand the necessary evil of the Board, but he also understood the frustration she must’ve been dealing with. The last bit, however, was good news. Eyebrows rose in consideration before he grinned - he had plenty of healers he could offer an extra shift to for assistance in brewing, if only to prepare for the full moon.

Sure, he’d heard the rumors. He hadn’t bothered with the article; that publication was rubbish, anyway. If he had heard healer’s and mediwitches gossiping about it yesterday, he’d made sure to remind them that was their Head Healer, and they had jobs that didn’t require that sort of discussion. Jason was sure that when he walked away, they continued with their conversation, but at least it was quieter.

Now, however, he couldn’t help the glance to the flashy rings. Jason pursed his lips ever so slightly but didn’t mention anything, instead focusing his gaze on her face. “You requested how prepared we were for the full moon, I’m keeping you abreast of all of it.” They hadn’t known it was contaminated until they tested it. What a relief it had been, too. It was something that he could breathe easier about.

The next thing out of her mouth caught him completely off guard. Jason’s mouth opened, face showing slight shock. Finally, he shut his mouth and cocked an eyebrow. Another piece of parchment was pulled out with four of the nine names marked through, along with small notes about the four he had gone to and what had happened. Jason looked it over for a moment before handing that across the table as well. “No, Miranda, I did not.”

He waited for her to peruse his list before he continued. “It’s a fools errand. If you feel it’s important to do, then add it to your list of things to do. I suggest we hold a forum and address concerns head on in a safe and neutral environment. Going to their home is-” He had to bite his tongue for fear of saying something he might regret. “-not wise.” Jason frowned and steepled his fingers in front of him, elbows on the arms of his chair.

“No, Miranda, I did not.”
Dark eyes shot up from the folder to settle on the speaker. The witch suddenly looked less friendly as her grip on the parchment between her fingers and her lips marginally pursed. She’d expected him and the rest of the staff to understand what was wise for them to do.
Carrying out her orders was wise for them; challenging them was not.

Wordlessly, the Head Healer took the list and glanced over it, allowing pale lips to form a thin line. Jason spoke and she took a moment to deliberate her response. Rather, she took a moment to stop herself from putting him in his place rather harshly. Any other member of staff would have been immediately in a formal meeting about respect had they told her to add it to her list of jobs.
She’d rather respected Healer Marren’s opinion in the past.

“It was an order.” She calmly responded. “An order I expect you to carry out.” Her gaze once more left the wizard to fall to the list of families he’d visited and had yet to brave. “I can ask someone to babysit you when you visit Mr and Mrs Camburton, if you wish.”

A small part of her felt the need to explain her reasoning to him, to appeal to his thoughtful and sympathetic side. However, his challenging her and suggesting she did it herself had irked the witch.

Jason knew she wouldn’t take it well. He watched her read it over, sitting forward to rest his elbows on the desk. He didn’t think she understood what she was asking her in-Charge’s to do. This wasn’t as if one or two had died. They didn’t even make house calls back during the war. This was their mistake, and yet, at the same time, it absolutely wasn’t.

They weren’t in a dictatorship either. If he questioned something she gave out as an order, he was allowed to voice his concerns and be heard. He knew his rights. He also knew his duties. He spoke with families when they were at the hospital. He had had plenty of upset family members to deal with in his time. That was not the same as going to their home.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Head Healer. I’m not doing it. We don’t work here to take orders blindly. I have already voiced my concern.” She wasn’t at Durmstrang. She was in London. At St. Mungo’s. Somewhere she would’ve voiced her opinion and damn the authority if she thought she was right. Jason didn’t understand where her change came from.

“What would you have done if you could come face to face with Jonathon’s ending? Right after it happened? Would you not have wanted that dragon to feel everything you felt?” Jason had had his own experience with the near-death of a loved one. He had wanted to forbid Fiona from doing her job. If she would’ve gotten out of bed and said I’m going back to work, he would’ve said over his dead body.

Time heals the worst wounds, even if they can’t always be patched up right away. And they certainly would leave a scar to remember.

He wanted her to see his concern and not baby him and badger him until he complied. After a few moments, he finally frowned as he looked at her across the desk. “I will not do it.”

Marren jumped upon his high horse, informing his boss he wasn’t going to bow to her demands. He reminded her of his previous concerns and Miranda could only allow her lips to purse even tighter as her eyebrows narrowed and she stared through her glasses at the wizard.

Eyes widened marginally at the mention of Jonathon but she maintained her cool. The wizard drove the sword in right where he knew it would affect his former friend and mentor yet she didn’t flinch. Her mind flashed back to standing outside her husband’s cubicle, not allowed to go in and help. She’d been held back by Jason as she’d screamed and fought to get in to see her bleeding husband. He’d not relented.
He wasn’t relenting now.

She wasn’t going to rise to it. She wasn’t going to tell him how she’d have felt. They both knew the answer.
So she sat still for a moment, considering a response that didn’t involve giving in completely or sounding like a weak grieving widow who backed down whenever her husband was mentioned.

“You will speak to them.” She finally responded, her tone had lost its harshness. “You will let every family member know how sorry we are for their loss and how we are working towards making sure it never happens again.” A pause as she inwardly debated. “But on your terms. It can be here or on neutral ground, but it must be done.”
Miranda Elliot didn’t often compromise.

It was a low blow to use Miranda’s first husband as his basis for an argument. Jason knew that, but he also couldn’t think of any other way he could get his point across to her. He’d tried reasoning both in the room where she’d been stuck in the hospital bed and here in his office. She refused to look at it as anything other than insubordination.

Jason only hoped he didn’t become so set in his ways that no one else’s opinion seemed valid. He hoped that people saw him as reasonable and level-headed. Like he’d always thought Miranda was.

He also remembered the horror of Jonathon’s attack. It was partially what had forced him to change departments. In the end, of course, he’d come back to the Creature Injuries ward. There had been so much blood... so many places to try and start to fix. It had also devastated Miranda.

The only thing he wanted her to acknowledge was that her way wasn’t the only way. She didn’t have to answer his rhetorical question.

And Jason sat quietly as she spoke, body still as he waited. The weight of holding himself up straight was lifted, and he leaned back in his chair, considering her words. “I can agree to that. Thank you, Andy.” He inwardly winced. “Head Healer.” After a brief silence, he cleared his throat. “Congratulations, by the way.”

In what must have been his relief at his boss relenting somewhat, Marren forgot his manners and who he was addressing with the terrible nickname he’d picked up from a family member years ago. He backtracked immediately and Miranda frowned.

Marren’s argument had left her feeling slightly wounded, weakened by the strike to her pride and strength. She was a witch who enjoyed people harbouring the impression that she was a hardened and cold woman who didn’t experience emotion. She was relieved her staff knew to keep their distance and do as she said. Most who didn’t know her well had a mild case of fear around her. A lot had been caused by rumour from healers who’d worked under her, and a great deal had been caused by the amount of staff she’d simply sacked upon taking up as Head Healer.
Jason Marren, however, knew the witch more than she was comfortable with at this moment. He’d known the exact thing to throw at her regarding this battle of wills and he’d won. She didn’t want it getting out.

“Congratulations, by the way.”

“What?” He’d taken her off guard.
Then she realised.
“Oh.”
From one husband to the next.

“I hate witch weekly.”

There weren’t many times that Miranda Elliot (or... Storm, was it?) was caught off guard. Jason enjoyed it, even if he was careful of showing it. “It isn’t the most newsworthy magazine, but it definitely feeds gossip.” Which was its own wildfire. It was not professional, after all, to gossip about their Head Healer as if she was some sort of untouchable celebrity or quidditch player.

The baby part was laughable. Or so he hoped. Surely it wasn’t possible. Not that she was too old, of course, but he knew how she felt about children. Or thought he knew, at some point. Eyes fell to the desk between them, fishing for something else to say.

“Did he teach your da?” He blushed and put his hand in front of his mouth, a small laugh escaping. That was a mistake. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I hope you’re happy.” Another laugh came out, unexpected, and he leaned forward, trying very hard to keep himself from going into a giggle fit. Eyes closed as he clamped his hand around his mouth. A few more laughs came out, bouncing his shoulders as they muffled through his fingers.

Finally he got a hold of himself and sat back up, an easier going smile on his face. “I really do hope you’re happy. You could use someone who makes you happy. No matter...” how old almost slipped out, but he caught himself. "...who they are." He lifted his cooling coffee and took a small gulp, motioning to the thermos. “I have some extra, if you’d like.” Jason pulled open a drawer and fished out a coffee mug that was clean enough, offering it up as a truce.

Such a sudden change of topic and subject definitely left the witch questioning what went through her subordinate’s mind. He’d always been more jovial and light hearted than her, except when she’d have preferred it. The time when Miranda would have appreciated his lack of seriousness, he’d decided to become serious about her and left his wife. The thought still made her feel uncomfortable. Now for him to switch from mentioning her deceased husband now that he’d had his way to discussing the new one… Miranda wasn’t exactly sur what to say for a moment.

“Did he teach your da?”
Lips pursed tighter yet.
“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I hope you’re happy.” He laughed
She stiffened.
“I really do hope you’re happy. You could use someone who makes you happy. No matter...”
Dark eyebrows rose in anticipation for words that might land him a disciplinary.
"...who they are."
He saved himself and offered her a coffee. The witch nodded silently and used the time that he poured some to consider her response carefully.

“Who they are?” A few moments had given Miranda the time to decide she wanted to know exactly what the wizard was getting at. She knew he was no doubt meaning the age different between Ignan and herself, he wouldn’t be the first. “You mean German? A professor? Tall?”

It was easiest to keep Miranda on her toes, lest she fall back into disciplinary, find-all-your-faults mode. He definitely didn’t want to necessarily cause her to lose her shit either, so flipping from one topic to another when he thought he’d exhausted it was... smarter, in his head. And so far, it seemed to be working. It wasn’t as if he wanted to dig into her feelings too hard.

Though some might assume she was more Ice Queen than anything, Jason knew there were many times, if one looked hard enough, that you could see the inner emotions of Miranda Elli-Storm. For example, if he were really paying attention to her face, he would see how angry she was getting.

Sometimes it was a fun game, to see how far he could push her before she was close to the edge. The coffee was his saving grace, and he focused on it as he poured her a cup.

He handed it over to her carefully, eyes meeting hers at the question. It took him a moment to put together the dots of what she was going on about. As Jason settled back into his chair, he smirked and picked his own mug up, toasting her in the air before taking a sip. “Obviously all of those qualities.” He thought about it a moment before shrugging. “You can’t deny that the age difference... might catch people off guard.” And by people, Jason meant himself.

But he wasn’t going to say that.

Like magic, there it was, the wizard’s true concern. There was an age gap of almost 18 years between the head healer and her new husband. It had been something they’d both considered during the first few weeks of their developing courtship but the thoughts and worries had quickly been passed aside in favour of compatibility over age.

Now there was no denying that Jason was a young, attractive and healthy wizard. Excluding the fact that he had a small human to feed and look after, he probably had everything going for him. There was a blossoming and steady career which definitely earned a healthy salary and he had the charm to go with the good looks. He probably sat across the desk, questioning why she chose to commit to the older and far sterner wizard over him. Youth and handsomeness weren’t everything and they certainly weren’t enough for Miranda.
So she let him make his comments, taking a moment to sip the newly poured coffee.

“Perhaps,” The head healer started to speak, slowly, decisively, “he has an eye wateringly sizeable amount in his Gringott’s account and… a terminal illness?” There was no emotion in her expression as she gazed at him over her glasses. “I quite fancy myself a rich heiress.”

A smirk slipped out unexpectedly before Jason rolled his eyes. “So you’re being charitable?” No... Jason didn’t think that was what this was. Even if it would’ve been easier to swallow, perhaps. Then again... Miranda was in the habit of doing exactly what everyone expected her not to do. A finger waggled in her direction. “I think you’d get bored, just being a rich heiress. You’ll probably work right up to your untimely second death.”

Shrugging, Jason sat up and gulped his remaining coffee down, setting the empty mug on the desk top. “I know you don’t like to chit chat, so I’ll stop us before we get too far into it. It’s nice to have a civil conversation with you, Andy.” He gave her a small smile before picking up a quill and tapping the small stack of folders. “I just have a few more things to get to before I call it a day. Potion prices, remember?”

They were really trying to gouge the market, too. Some apothecaries, anyway. Others were just trying to stay afloat amid all the chaos. It was definitely a trying time, but Jason was keeping as positive an outlook as he could. They would make it through this.

He paused with the quill and frowned in thought. “Hey!” He paused and fought for words before they came out. “If you need someone to back you up against the Board, with arguing for in house ingredient growing... just let me know.” They might not have the best relationship, sure, but Jason also knew how much she cared about St. Mungo’s and its well being. She had inspired him once upon a time, a lifetime ago. Back before life handed out lemons and told you to get back on your feet.