Very early hours of 23rd February, about half an hour after Hell on the Heath

Nadine had initially protested help from the healers. It was more important that the wizard on the ground had received urgent help from them. Andromeda had identified Arcturus Hollingbury, and he’d been out cold since the mediwitches had brought them in. It was also more important to recount the details of what had happened[1] with urgency. It was no ordinary dementor attack - and now they were absolutely sure Lawrence Musgrave was involved.

Eventually a trainee healer had tried to attend to Nadine’s wand hand. Musgrave’s boot had ground it into the footpath and broken it, along with taken the skin off her palm. Thankfully, with magic, this could all be healed, though it was busy knitting itself together when Nadine clapped eyes on the recognisable face of the Head Healer, Miranda Storm. They had been trying to call her in since the moment they’d arrived with Hollingbury out cold. She was the best in the country with regards to dementors.

Before such an assertive woman, Nadine couldn’t help but feel somewhat bedraggled and mucky before Miranda. Her head was aching from being stunned at close range, and her ribs were bruised, she presumed from the struggle, and her chin was split from where Musgrave had booted her in the face in their wrestling match. Her uniform robes were torn and bloodied. The dementor exposure had lowered her mood, and she felt cold and internally furious at all that happened. She had made a stupid mistake and they had all suffered.

“Head Healer.” She addressed Miranda as respectfully as she could. “Hollingbury’s in there I understand-.”

1.	Hell on the Heath

The badge had burnt a whole in the bedside table as Miranda had continued to sleep, dead to the world as was usual when she did succeed in sleep. Neither the smoke nor the burning smell had woken her but the elf fretting beside the bed and giving her Mistress a gentle poke did finally stir the healer and cause her to open her eyes. Primarily she’d been mad at the elf until the smell hit her nostrils and she sprang out of bed as quickly as a sleep deprived nearly fifty-year-old witch could.

When the badge was activated it either meant a serious emergency at the hospital or a dementor attack on a patient brought in. Neither were times where she could afford to primp and prepare herself, but now well accustomed to her role, Miranda kept an emergency set of clothes on a chair in the corner of the room along with a hair clip and her glasses.

So within five minutes of waking up, teeth were brushed, her hair was scraped into a messy bun and she stepped into the fire in her flat pumps, black trousers and baggy green blouse.

Miranda didn’t waste time in collecting her robes from her office as she stepped through the fireplace. Instead she stepped out to be joined by a mediwitch who briefly explained the situation as they walked quickly towards the lift.

It was within ten minutes of finally waking up that Miranda Elliot was checking on her own healer, and when confident that he was being seen to, it was within fifteen minutes that she was stepping into Auror Nadine Pinn’s cubicle.

The auror knew who she was. Of course she did. Perhaps she was one of the one’s who’d thought her guilty of the hospital poisonings.
Hopefully not.

Miranda fixed her with an analytical gaze as she took in the woman’s injuries. The trainee had seen to the hand and it was beginning to heal slowly.
“He is being seen to, Auror Pinn.” Healer Storm glanced briefly at the trainee. “Leave us. Fetch me a coffee and Miss Pinn shall have a hot chocolate.” Accustomed to his superior’s no nonsense attitude, the trainee bolted without a second thought.

Once alone, Miranda stepped further into the cubicle and frowned as she pulled her wand from her trouser pocket.
“Was Musgrave there?”

“He is being seen to, Auror Pinn.”
“Of course he is, Madam Healer.” Nadine uttered, going to nod her head instinctively but wincing. The trainee left them both promptly and Nadine focused on Miranda.

“Was Musgrave there?”

“Yes.” Nadine gestured gingerly with her right hand to her dishevelled appearance. She knew from the trial of William Shufflebottom and the events that preceded it, that the Head Healer had a connection with Lawrence Musgrave. She did not want to presume too much of the other witch or bring it up directly.

“He fought us both but got away.” Nadine frowned, irritated with herself. “I had him.” She gripped her right hand, her left lying in her lap healing up. “He did this,” she gestured to her chin and then her hand. “Bastard. You know - knew him didn’t you?”

For all of Miranda’s years of experience working at St Mungo’s; she had encountered two types of auror as patients. One was very formal, following procedure to the letter as they were laid up in their hospital bed. The other type frequented the hospital so often they were on first name terms with healers and felt like it was a home away from home. Nadine Pinn was fortunately the former which definitely suited Miranda after only a few hours of sleep and a rude awakening.

“Yes.” Pinn confirmed, and despite her effort to keep a calm expression, Miranda failed to hide her concern. Once more Lawrence Musgrave had been within their grasp and he’d escaped. It was infuriating and Miranda felt somewhat responsible as she’d not managed it when he’d been in her house.
But if the aurors couldn’t even take him in what hope was there?

“Bastard. You know - knew him didn’t you?”
Miranda’s free hand was moving to take Pinn’s hand to check it when the auror mentioned her knowing him. She froze and her dark eyed gaze fell on Pinn’s. A small nod before she took the hand and lifted it, examining the work through her spectacles.
“He was in my year at school. A different house but we shared classes. Your hand is knitting well.” It was gently lowered back into the witch’s lap before Mira took a step back.

“Have you been given a pain potion yet?”

“If you mean the foul stuff the trainee offered me when I first got here, then yes. I can’t say it’s done much. How long is the hand going to take?” Nadine asked, her frown deepening. Although she had been beaten up by a wanted wizard, she still felt it was her own fault and didn’t want anyone else to know that. She reached up to itch her chin without thinking and sucked air through her teeth.

“How is Hollingbury doing? Is he awake to talk yet?” Nadine peered past Miranda. If he had noticed Musgrave before the dementor, they might gain some more information to help catch him. If Nadine could obtain that information she’d be redeemed somewhat in Solomon Carstairs’ eyes. Reading the expression from Miranda that even if Arcturus Hollingbury were awake, she wouldn’t be allowed to go in and prod him.

“What is he like? Musgrave?” Nadine asked, curious. “Everyone who worked with him as an auror makes out they knew he was a bad egg, but who would want to say he was nice?” She watched her knuckles regain skin. “Like when people die, people make them out to be wonderful, even if they were awful.”

“Probably another twenty minutes. It’s better not to rush these things.” As a healer or a patient you needed patience. That had been an outstandingly hard lesson to learn for a witch that had none. As much as she’d developed patience in her healing, anyone that knew Miranda would say that that was where it stopped.

The auror had a lot of questions. It was characteristic of someone used to being in control suddenly thrown into a hospital bed. Normally it irked Miranda and she would brush the questions off, yet today it was something that involved her. It was something she could possibly make a difference with.

“Hollingbury is being seen to.” She wasn’t prepared to go into detail just yet. “Thank you for bringing him in.”

Her spare hand went to touch the mess that was Pinn’s chin when the question caused her to think. She pulled back again, frowning in consideration.
“He was a likeable guy.” The healer admitted with a shrug. “I suppose it depends if you think someone is always bad or if life changes them. He was stable at school. Smart and funny. Something changed him.”

Had to be smart to be an auror, Nadine thought to herself, but not smart enough to stay away from Voldemort.

"Yeah, funny man." Nadine muttered, thinking of the warnings Musgrave had issued. "Wrote us a Christmas carol to lead us to Zel Trumble at Christmas." She wrinkled her nose as her hand tingled, bones coming back together. It itched like crazy but she knew she couldn't disturb it. Wouldn't say no to more of the vile tasting potion though, take the edge off it. She was going to feel all of this in the morning.

"You saw him recently, didn't you?" Nadine asked, as reproachfully as she could muster in her situation. "He came looking for you. Sick bastard." She shuddered at the thought. They'd been right beside each other, she'd glimpsed his face just before she'd hit the ground, a peeved, irritated expression like she'd just interrupted an observation like a novice trainee. "He'll need a ruddy healer now with any luck. Wish I could have beaten the crap out of him." Without realising, Nadine clenched both her hands, and exclaimed at the pain in her left hand.

"How does he control them? What would your professional opinion be?"

“Don’t fidget if you want it to heal.” Healer Storm berated the auror, her voice suddenly stern, reproachful. She wasn’t going to discuss Musgrave if the witch couldn’t even stay still enough to heal. Was this was she’d been called in for? Pinn didn’t need the head healer taking care of her, the hospital wasn’t currently understaffed and nothing could really be done with Holingbury and checking him out until he woke. Perhaps Miranda needed to discuss with her staff what was emergency enough to call her in during the night.

How did he control them? Miranda was interrupted from explaining by the trainee returning carrying two steaming drinks in papercups. The first was handed to the Head Healer, coffee, one sugar. The second, creamy hot chocolate was passed to the auror. Healer Storn didn’t distract herself in thanking the trainee. She nodded before giving a look and watching them skuttle back out.

“His mind. Or what is left of it.” Not sure if this was the auror asking professionally or out of interest, Miranda had decided to indulge her. She didn’t sit or get comfortable, but she did lift the lid off the cup and take a sip of the coffee. That was needed after being woken up in the middle of the night.

“He’s opened his mind to them. He talks to them. They talk to him…well, to his mind. The ministry appeared to control dementors because they gave them a regular supply of food. Lawrence does that. There’s no control there. As soon as he stops providing them with food they’ll take his soul.”

"They don't bite the hand that feeds them?" Nadine replied rhetorically. It made some sense. "He has his work cut out feeding all of those dementors. Do you think he will meet his own end before we catch him?”

Probably Miranda would say, as they had not been successful for months now. More likely something far more scathing. Nadine’s lips pressed together and she shook her head slightly as if to agree.

"He doesn't seem to have a problem with fighting women.” She tried not to move her hand in gesture. “I heard you got away with minor injuries? I’m not jealous - I doubt anyone would like to meet Lawrence Musgrave.” Nadine shook her head, “More importantly - Musgrave came to you for healing. Do you think he was meeting Hollingbury for the same reason? Why else would Hollingbury choose to be out alone on Hampstead Heath at that time of night? In a way I hope it is all chance - wrong place wrong time.”

“Do you think he will meet his own end before we catch him?” It didn’t take any seriously consideration for Miranda to nod. She didn’t think about it, she knew it. Such a response wasn’t entirely owing to the incompetence of the aurors trying to catch him; it was due to his own unrealised vulnerability to the effects of aurors. Musgrave was never going to achieve what he hoped. No one could truly control dementors. They could only mildly influence them. Miranda had seen the damage done to those affected by the breed.

Quickly Auror Pinn’s questions moved from one’s Miranda could and was interested in answering, to one’s she had no idea about. Hollingbury was out cold, suffering extreme exposure.

“I wouldn’t know auror. He came to me because I work with dementor victims. I work in their minds. Hollingbury is a potioneer. I’m not sure what use he would have to Musgrave.”

"Quite." Nadine uttered more quietly, and sucked in her breath as her hand stung as it healed. "We will interview him properly when he is well enough." She couldn't imagine Hollingbury would be the sort to associate with the likes of Musgrave, but others had described him as a bit of a solitary sort, unemotional, brusque bedside manner at times, keeping himself to himself. Not one to frequent the pub. Being an introvert didn't make one a criminal, but it also didn't paint a picture of a man who would collaborate with a known criminal.

A follow up question escaped her thoughts with her distraction.
"Head Healer?" A voice addressed from further down the ward. Nadine gave a respectful nod to the other witch.
"Thanks, I'll be in touch if you can help further."

End