Sandy's hands were still shaking. He had drunk some brandy. Then some wit-sharpening potion and eaten a bar of chocolate. He did not dare go upstairs. He had run out of the room. His barn owl flew back in the littlest window. It did not have a letter on its leg now. Andy had got the letter but had not written back. He hoped she was on the way. He was frightened to tell her. But he was more frightened of the dementors. He was out of his depth. He needed help. He trusted Andy. She was his oldest friend. She knew about Lawrence. She knew what he could do. He was nervous.

The dementors were still outside. They were close. Sandy shut the window. It had thick ice all over it. The patterns were pretty but to Sandy they looked ugly today. He fed his owl a mouse. He finished his second glass of brandy. There was a knock at the front door. Sandy's heart beat faster. He could hear it. He held tight to his wand. He warmed the window beside the front door with magic. It was Andy! He pulled open the door.
"Quickly!" He said and waved his arm. He shut the door behind her. "A-andy. T-thank you. I did not know w-who else to ask." His knees nearly gave way. He leaned against the cold door.

Mr and Mrs Storm had been relishing a relaxing evening in the living room of their small cottage when the owl[1] had arrived. The two had been benefitting from one another’s company without a word being said. Ignan had occupied his arm chair, completing the crossword from that morning’s Prophet while Miranda had been reading the latest edition of Magical Medicine Around the World. It was true that she rarely switched her mind off from work. The couple were part way through a lovely bottle of red, it being a Friday night. Tomorrow she would work through the night at St Mungo’s, always available on a full moon.

So Ignan hadn’t been impressed when Miranda had read the note silently and told him she needed to leave without any explanation. She’d not been able to explain it was a work emergency; the badge in her pocket would have been burning were it that. But the wizard didn’t greatly object and within a few minutes Miranda had pulled a black cloak and flat boots on over her baggy shirt and jeans and was leaving through the front door of the cottage to apparate once far enough away.

As soon as she appeared at the end of path to Sandy’s rather large house, Miranda was assaulted by the cold and the overwhelming presence of the dementors. Her mind barely had time to process their presence before the screaming began in her mind. Maya and Jonathon, agony, fear attacking her soul. Miranda drew deep breaths, trying to block them out as she nearly darted up the drive to bang on Sandy’s door.

It opened and she was ushered in. Like Sandy, Miranda collapsed back against the wall, closing her eyes for a moment to collect herself. The house formed a sort of barrier, the effects of the dementors duller, somewhat distant.

When the Head Healer finally opened her eyes, she stared at her old colleague in horror.
“What the hell Sandy?”

1.	Help I am a Fool

"He broke in." Sandy said. "He was nearly dead. I did my duty. I panicked Andy." He walked away from the door. He led Andy into the house. It was not as cold in the middle of the house. "I should have called the aurors. I should call them now." Sandy said. He was so silly. Why did he let Lawrence do this to him? He felt braver now his friend was here. "He came to me for help. You would not help him. He made me help him, Andy." Sandy was not making sense. He paced back and forth. He was white as a sheet. "We need to know how he does it." Sandy said suddenly. "If the aurors have him we will not find out."

"He broke in."

Miranda’s eyes suddenly rivalled the size of galleons. Who broke in didn’t need to be specified.  Stomach sinking, the witch felt a sickly, doomed feeling overcoming her while her mind started to process exactly why he hadn’t yet been caught by the aurors given the state he’d been in upon leaving her home in Hogsmeade.

Continuing to babble, Sandy led her further into his familiar home. She left her cloak on and did nothing but follow him, staring in a mixture of shock and anger.

It was just about possibly to take everything he said in until he insisted that they needed to know how he did it. Miranda had had enough of staying silent.

“Are you out of your mind?” She hissed, disbelieving, furious. “I didn’t help him because he threatened to kill me. He’s an insane criminal who is controlling dementors and you want to keep him from as a research toy?”

Her hands started to fiddle about in her pocket, pulling out her healer’s badge. She needed to call the aurors.

“Where is he now, Aubrey?”

"Upstairs." Sandy said. He was a little hurt. In the big picture it was nothing. "I knocked him out. He is bound to a bed." He saw her hand in her pocket. "Andy! We will call the aurors. I promise. He's sick. Would you be sane if you had this in your head?" Sandy pointed at his head. "Remember our oath. Our 'professional judgement will be exercised as independently as possible and not be influenced by political pressures nor by factors such as the social standing of the patient.'" Sandy recited. "And he could tell us. I mean. We could read him. You could." Sandy was desperate.

M for language used by a very angry lady

“You’ve lost it.” Miranda had been fairly calm considering the situation. She’d not yelled at him or hit him. But he had the gall to remind her of their oath, to recite it as if she had forgotten and this was the most normal of possible situations. He insisted they could read Lawrence from his position bound to the bed and Miranda found her temper slip beyond control.

“Don’t you dare tell me about our oath when you are harbouring a wanted criminal in your spare bedroom!” Her voice was sharp, furious. Dark eyes bore into his, her cheeks reddening. “I made an oath to treat everyone fairly. I did not promise to keep criminals in my house and not turn them in in the hopes that I could fix them or whatever the fuck you want to do.”

Despite her words, Mira found her feet carrying her towards the staircase and up. She knew Sandy’s house fairly well and headed straight to the spare room, cautiously pushing the door open with her wand out.

She’d expected to see Lawrence flat out on the bed, unmoving, knocked out. Instead she saw crumpled sheets and no sign of the wizard. Her stomach lurched and any colour that had been in her cheeks vanished. She span around in the doorway to see Sandy. It had been a long time since such rage had been seen in her face.

“You fucking idiot!” Her voice held nothing but venom. “You’ve patched up a madman and sent him on his way! My husband nearly killed him trying to save me and you’ve just set him free to get revenge!”

“Obliviate!"

The spell hit Miranda as she ranted at Misslethorpe in the bedroom doorway, knocking her balance and stopping her tirade. Her eyes flickered in confusion. Lawrence’s wand flicked a second time, red, and she sprawled on the spare room floor, out cold. His wand snapped to the right side of Misslethorpe’s head, breathing heavily behind him.

“Drop your wand, and your badge.”

To say Lawrence had not been best pleased when he came round was an understatement. His hair had been wet with gloopy potion mixed with blood from the glass cuts and there was glass all over his head and the bed. Misslethorpe had knocked him out with a bottle, and seemingly fled the scene. He had suppressed the need to swear, because his reflex action to touch his head had revealed he was no longer bound to the bed for the first time in days. There had been no time to lose.

Lawrence had not been out of bed in twelve days, and although the pneumonia and infection had subsided, and his stomach wound was healing, Lawrence still felt weak, especially as the dementors were right up against the house where he’d brought them to antagonise Sandy. When he’d woken, Misslethorpe was somewhere in the house. He had strained his ears, identifying something or someone downstairs, pacing. Whether help was on the way, he did not know, so Lawrence had taken his chances to get out of bed and start looking for his things.

His bare feet had made careful, cautious progress across the bedroom floor, all the while followed by a fine tinkle of glass as it fell out of his hair. The whole house was bitterly cold, the windows iced over from the dementors even hours after he had brought them there. Every hair on Lawrence’s bare skin was on end, and he was covered in goosebumps. The dementors were impatient. He’d called them there, and now there were no more directions, no food. He needed them to stay put long enough to keep Misslethorpe in a state.

Lawrence had predicted correctly that Sandy would not bring aurors to the house. He was too weak and easily manipulated. He had caught Lawrence by surprise with the move to bind him to the bed and keep the former auror prisoner, further still with a young accomplice. Bringing Miranda there was not an altogether strange move, but one that wouldn’t really benefit anyone. It was true Lawrence had come looking for Miranda which had nearly killed him, but it was to try and understand what he could do to preserve what little sanity he retained. If he had thought Misslethorpe had those answers he’d have come to Oulton Broad sooner.

Josie had read him the paper. Lawrence knew the aurors were looking for him, but there was speculation he was dead. Being dead was actually a lot easier than being alive and in hiding, so he wasn’t rushing to correct them. Besides, if Miranda and her ruddy husband believed they had killed him, they might feel irritated they hadn’t handed him over for a lifelong punishment.

“I need supplies, enough to dress my wound until it heals, boots and my cloak. Fetch them.” Lawrence commanded Sandy. His wand remained trained on the healer. In the time that Sandy had been downstairs and Lawrence conscious, he had found enough clothes to wear. Sandy was several inches taller, but sleeves and trousers rolled up, and they were not far off. They were clean, and in considerably better condition than most Lawrence had picked up lately. As Sandy set about, he glanced down to Miranda on the floor and nudged her with a foot to check she was still out. Merlin, she’d really laid into Misslethorpe. He’d done Sandy a favour by obliviating her, really.

Sandy could not breathe. He was going to faint. He was very scared. Andy was lying on the floor. Lawrence was behind him. He had a wand. Everything had gone badly wrong. Andy was right about Sandy. He was a fucking idiot. He swallowed really hard and let his wand fall on the floor. He thought about squeezing his badge. His hands were shaking too much. He dropped it too. He could feel Lawrence's breath. It smelled. It was uneven. He gave Sandy orders. Sandy moved quickly away. He went close enough to Andy to check she was breathing. He looked over his shoulder at Lawrence. He was dressed in Sandy's clothes. There was blood on the bed and lots of glass.
"H-here is your poultice." Sandy said. He held out a linen bag. He did not want to look him in the eye. Then he remembered Lawrence had one hand. He was using it to point a wand at Sandy. He tucked it into one of the pockets of the clothes. Most of Lawrence's clothes had been soaked in blood. There was a trunk at the bottom of the bed. It had blankets in when you opened it. But if you closed it again a certain way. Then you opened it. It showed different things. This time it showed the hidden things. He pointed inside at Lawrence's stuff. "W-w-where will you go?" Sandy asked. "I-I was t-try-trying to h-help you L-Lawrence." He shook a lot. He did not like standing close to the other wizard.

“Where I go is not your concern,” Lawrence snapped. He was annoyed at Sandy, furious his things had been right there at his feet all the time, save for his hawthorn wand which had been found in Sandy’s sock drawer. Misslethorpe had gone for somewhere mundane in the hope it wouldn’t be one of the first places he’d look. Unluckily for Sandy, Lawrence remembered from when they were teenagers that he used to hide things from his father in balled up socks. “When I come back is.”

His boots leapt out of the trunk, and Lawrence shoved one foot and then the other in, concentrating on his balance. He tied the laces with magic. All the while they stood in silence staring at each other, punctuated by Sandy’s rapid nervous breathing and Lawrence’s unsteady, laboured breaths. The cloak followed, and Lawrence felt the difference in heat immediately in the freezing cold house. He turned away from the trunk to observe Miranda on the floor.

“She’s your problem, Sandy. But if any of you breathe a word of me your nightmares about your late father will be the most pleasant you ever had.” He was exhausted but put on his best attempts to intimidate the healer. The dementors eroded enough of anyone’s confidence to give him a head start. He leaned in, wand tip hovering just above Sandy’s throat, close enough to anticipate its touch, “I own you Aubrey Misslethorpe.”

Lawrence turned away, strode towards the bedroom door, cloak grazing Miranda’s legs as he stepped over her. Away he thought to the dementors on the edge of his mind, there is nothing here for you. Throwing open the back door of Sandy’s house, Lawrence staggered out, disapparating as soon as he could, the dementors retreating in his wake.

Exit Lawrence

Sandy ran to Andy. His hands were shaking so hard he could not hold his wand. She was unconscious. She could never remember this. She would tell the Ministry. Sandy would be in trouble. "Think! Think!!" He had to be sure.

Downstairs his owl hooted. Sandy jumped. "A-Accio my letter." The piece of parchment struggled to get out of Andy's pocket. He was so happy to see it he dropped his wand. He pulled it out. He burned it. She could not wake up here. She would not know why she was here. He thought he could take her home. But she was married now. He would have to tell her husband a story. Had she told her husband where she was going? Sandy began to panic again. The ice was melting on the windows. He could think better. He made up his mind.

He found Andy's Head Healer's badge. It was in the pocket of her robes. Instead of squeezing it Sandy put it in his own pocket. He used spells to lift his friend off the bedroom floor. He carried her down stairs. He put her down at the main fireplace. Sandy lifted Andy over his shoulder. He did it as gently as he could. He did not want to hurt her. He would like to go back and undo his decision to send her an owl. He carried her into the floo. He took her to her office.

Sandy laid Andy on her sofa. He knew she went to sleep on it. She liked to work too much. He wriggled her cloak off her. He hung it up. He tucked a pillow behind her head. He treated her like one of his patients. He put a blanket over her and folded her arms over it. He put her badge back in her cloak. He hoped she remembered nothing.


- END -