Lawrence Musgrave was dreaming, only they were not his dreams, and rather nightmares. Childhood fears of monsters under the bed, boggarts in wardrobes, of disapproving fathers he was sure he recognised, angry reporters. Like dreams do, they made no sense and tripped from one scene to the next like sand through fingers, changing direction like autumn wind.

Over and over came the same scene of the sea churning beyond a cliff edge, the flailing arms of a young boy in a red anorak. Every time falling over the edge, however much Lawrence shouted at him to stay away and grabbed at his arms. The face changed to Hannah as a young girl, brown waves splaying out in the wind as she fell, and Lawrence threw himself out with both arms, for in his dreams he had both hands once more.

Something held him back, rooted to the spot, and he cried out, fevered. Incoherently yelling his niece’s name, confused, disorientated.

His eyes flickered open to low light, a face in his, young, female, shouting for a name, trying to tell him it was ok.
“No it’s not!” Lawrence protested, words slurred, one eye not opening as far as the other. He felt sick, hot, damp, exhausted, angry, disconnected from his body. “It’s not ok- it’s -.”

What a mess. What a big big mess. Josie never thought she would become a nurse. That was what she felt like. Josie did lots of odd jobs but this was really odd. The wizard in one of the spare rooms looked really sick. It had taken a lot of time for Sandy to heal him. Josie fetched and carried and did everything he asked. She was a little bit afraid of Sandy Misslethorpe now. On Sunday he looked like a butcher, covered in blood. The dementors were close by. It made her feel more afraid.

She was on babysitting duty. The sick wizard was in a body bind. Sandy had to go to work at the hospital. Josie was to stay in his house and watch the patient. Sandy left instructions. She had to keep the patient cool and hydrated. She had to give him potions at the right times. She had to take his temperature. When Sandy got back each time she helped him before she was allowed to go home. He gave her good money. She thought she should ask for more. She felt unsure of herself when she was there. But Sandy said Josie could talk to the patient when he woke up. The whole country was looking for this patient. She would never get this opportunity again.

"Sandy!" Josie yelled. "Sandy he is awake!" She reached for an empty glass. "Aguamenti. Here you will be thirsty. Have a drink. You are safe. It is ok."

"L-Lawrence." Sandy stood at the other side of the bed. "Drink the water. You are running a fever." He was tired. He had promised Andy he would sort out things at the magazine. He had got home a lot later. He had fetched some food for him and Josie. All of the readings suggested Lawrence would come round soon. He was glad he was home when it did. He focused on making Lawrence better. Saving his life. It was his duty as a healer. He could have left Lawrence to die on his kitchen floor. But Josie was a witness, and now she was an accomplice. She had bugged him for ages to get work. Now she had some. Lawrence would be dead soon. Not from Sandy, but from the aurors. If they got his story now it could make them a lot of money. Sandy wanted to study him too.

"I have bound you to the bed as a precaution. You are not better yet. You need to keep still so your wounds can heal." The deepest wound was made with dark magic. Sandy could not heal it normally. He had tried different methods. Now he was treating it with potions and salves. All of Lawrence's stomach was heavily bandaged up. He was full of potions and had pneumonia. Then there were the dementors outside.

Sandy, effing Misslethorpe. Lawrence had come to him before and threatened him to patch him up. They were the same year at Hogwarts, but Sandy had been in Slytherin. Posh git with a father who owned a magazine, which Sandy owned now. Enough money, influence and brains to be a healer. Not as good as Miranda, but he was alive. He would say that was all that mattered, but in reality Lawrence wasn’t sure that living was better than death.

He strained with his neck to reach for the water. His arms and the rest of him were heavy and stuck to the bed. It was a very strange sensation he associated with a dead limb, but applied to the whole of his body from his neck down. He could see the rest of him beneath a white sheet, but he couldn’t make it move. If Sandy hadn’t advised he was bound, he might have believed himself paralysed.

“What wounds, who’s that, more water-“ Lawrence mumbled, “What you given me, what day is it?”

"Ooh he does not look pleased." Josie said lowly. Then she realised that she had to help the patient drink. She lifted it to his lips. It took a bit of coordination. Josie misunderstood when Lawrence wanted to breathe and the water went over his chin. This was harder than it looked. She looked back to Sandy in the low light.
"It is Wednesday, Lawrence. We found you in my kitchen at death's door. Drink!" Josie almost felt sorry for the man in the bed. Then she thought of a better plan. She conjured a straw.
"There we go!" She said brightly, offering the glass. She pinched the straw with her fingers. "You were a right state. Blood everywhere. Normally people go to the hospital not the healer." Josie said. She grinned at Lawrence.
"What happened? Why d-did you come here? To me?" Sandy asked. He looked angry. He had folded his arms.

"Ooh he does not look pleased." Who was this witch?! He didn't remember Sandy having a girlfriend, not this young. Northerner. She forced the water to his lips again and he struggled. His instinctive reaction was to drink, admittedly very thirsty. But he needed to breath and she didn't seem to understand that. He managed to turn his head but the water went over him. Now he was pinned to the bed, unable to move, at the mercy of two idiots and covered in water.

Sandy's face was lit from below by the bedside lamp. It didn't make his narrow Slytherin eyes any more reassuring.
"It is Wednesday, Lawrence. We found you in my kitchen at death's door. Drink!" Misslethorpe's response sparked a memory.  "Wednesday?" He was pretty sure it was Sunday when he had gone to Miranda's new house in Hogsmeade. He'd been asleep three days. He'd been missing three days. Who knew he was here?

"There we go!" The girl beside him said, offering the water and a straw this time. Lawrence just glowered at her. "You were a right state. Blood everywhere. Normally people go to the hospital not the healer." Why was she grinning at him? Who was she?

"What happened? Why d-did you come here? To me?" Sandy asked, and the stutter was back. He was crapping himself. He wasn't helping Lawrence willingly, he was scared of him like he was last time.
"Because you helped me before." He told Sandy, staring up at him. "And you'll help me again." He tried to move, but the charms held him firm, and a sharp pain shot through him, causing him to gasp for air. He looked at Josie. "And you are?"

Helped him before? Josie looked up at Sandy. Had the owner of Witch Weekly healed criminals? Sandy did not seem pleased about Lawrence's decision. The longer they left it the harder it would be to explain to the aurors. She did not want to get them in trouble. She was following Sandy's instructions. But they weighed on her mind.
"Josie." She introduced herself. "Pleased to meet you." Josie held out her hand to shake. "Oops. We were jogging." She smiled goofily at Lawrence. "On Sunday. He was jogging. I was pretending. Want to write for him, like."

"Stay still!" Sandy ordered. He let Josie introduce. Sandy decided which potion to give to Lawrence for the pain. Now he was awake he would feel more pain. He did not want him there but it would be easier to reason with him if he was comfortable. If he did not follow Sandy's rules he would use more sedatives. He needed time to decide what to do with him.
"Drink this." Sandy told Lawrence. He pressed the bottle to his patient's lips. "I can only treat your pain. It will take time for your wounds to heal. I do not know how long yet. Josie can change your dressings when I am not here."

Extroverted thing, Lawrence thought as Josie introduced herself. She had big wide eyes when she expressed her words and was a jolly sort. Not dislikable, but perhaps one of those enthusiastic sorts you wanted to shut up. She wanted to write for Sandy? Reporter then. Determined enough, she didn't look the sort to take up jogging as a hobby without a mission. (The thought of Sandy jogging in shorts made Lawrence feel doubly ill.)
"So you're-"
"Drink this."

Merlin that tasted like rotten soil! What on earth was Sandy giving him? It tasted foul. Trouble was with potions, the better they were for you, often the worse they tasted. Lawrence screwed up his face, tried not to choke on it. It had a horrible, sharp aftertaste. He ran his tongue round his mouth, grimacing as he tried to get rid of the taste.

"Eugh! Josie, water." It was frustrating to only have his head and shoulders mobile. He had to do things one at a time, and with the help of others. At least his new acquaintance could be useful. She seemed eager enough to provide him with it a moment ago. After sucking in a good mouthful, Lawrence swilled the water round his mouth and swallowed. Merlin, he missed brushing his teeth. His mouth felt fuzzy, gums sore and undoubtedly his breath was like death. Then again, he wasn't exactly chatting this girl up. He was old enough to be her father, surely - they both were. Lawrence glanced between them, a sudden thought of Josie being Sandy's daughter. No, unlikely.

"You're a healer?" He asked Josie, confused, "Or a writer? I don't understand why you're helping him."

"She's not a healer Lawrence." Sandy said. "But she follows instruction. I cannot be here all the time. I am a St Mungo's healer, and I have business to attend to." He felt tired. His life was fairly quiet. He went to work, he jogged, he went to meetings at the magazine and appeared at social events. That was it. Now he was trying to stop his boss and good friend from firing him over some news article. His old school classmate was in his guest bedroom recovering from nearly dying. Sandy felt very anxious. He did not like the stress. He wanted to solve this problem.

As Sandy spoke, Lawrence looked more around himself. It looked like a bedroom. Definitely still in Misselthorpe's house, then. There was a window to his right, but the curtains were drawn. The door was ahead, to the left, beyond Josie. On the bedside tables were jugs, bowls, linen, bandages and lots of bottles. The quantity of it all made Lawrence wonder just how much work had gone into tending to him. Sandy was a very decent healer, he'd trained with Andy Carter. The two of them were rather friendly. The fact Sandy was helping him made Lawrence wonder how much control he had over the other wizard, how much was free will, and if this was an elaborate trap.

Lawrence went to answer but instead was wracked with coughs. Unable to move the rest of himself, each one sent a sharp pain through him and he gasped for air. He couldn't breathe! His eyes streamed and despite himself, exhausted panic set in. He gasped raggedly for air.

Suddenly his throat cleared and air rushed into his lungs, resulting in more spluttering and choking. He felt lightheaded, confused. More than tired, his eyelids felt heavy. Was he passing out? What was in that potion Sandy had given him? Why did he feel... so...
"What, what did you give, what did..."

"But he just woke up!" Josie complained. Lawrence's head lolled on the pillow. "How am I meant to befriend him if you put him to sleep?" She looked up at Sandy. He had his wand out. He had cast a spell to help Lawrence breathe. Josie was irritated. It had been a long day. She was tired and wanted to go home to her own bed.
"He is still very weak." Sandy explained. He sounded like he was telling Josie like a relative of one of his patients at the hospital. "The pneumonia is not helping matters. I will write new instructions for the potions for tomorrow. He will need more if he wakes. He is better off asleep so he does not move."
"He needs his dressings changed." Josie grumbled.
"Yes. Go home Josie. I will see you in the morning." They stared at each other. Was that it? "And thank you for today."
"Better." Josie mumbled. "Goodnight." She would be glad to get away from this horrible house and the dementors.

-End-