9 pm on August 20, 2011
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. And Mental Breaks.

It was too bright in the lobby and Zelda felt bare.

She was sure everyone could see right through her into her twisted gut and spasming arm and spinning thoughts. Zelda knew she looked like hell warmed over. With Kurby Bagnold at her side carrying her bag, she felt like she was checking into some fateful hotel. At this time of night, there weren't very many people moving around and so Zelda was able to walk straight to the desk. Her arms were crossed, her shoulders were up, and her jaw was set.

"Need to see a Healer," she said.

   "Is this an emergency?" asked the young wizard at the desk.

"No." She swallowed a lump in her throat, and wrung her hands hard.

The wizard at the desk looked up at her, perhaps looking to see if she was apparently bleeding or missing a limb. Satisfied she was on her own two feet, he handed her a clipboard with a curling parchment.

   "Have a seat and fill this out," he said with a patient smile.

Zelda slid it across the counter to herself and began to walk away as she read it. Reason for visit, describe how you're feeling, check a box for Werewolf...

"This is bloody absurd," she mumbled at Kurby as it was proof of why she never wanted to show up here in the first place. "I don't have the sodding hiccups."

As she continued looking at the form, a high pitched humming in her ears was growing louder, making it hard to concentrate.

Zelda looked like she were going to war.  Everything about her was tense and sharp: the set of her jaw; the hardness of her stance; the look that she gave the parchment on the clipboard, which had the audacity to inquire after conditions that she clearly didn't have.

Kurby wasn't much happier about having to spend the evening in St. Mungo's, a place that he tried to avoid unless it was absolutely necessary.  But he also knew very clearly why they were there.  And so he kept Zelda's overnight bag slung over his shoulder, staying quiet as she began to work her way through the form.  At least the waiting room was mostly empty at this time of night.  The few people who were there seemed to have other things on their mind, like the man who seemed to have transfigured his head into a teakettle.

As she got to the question about hiccups, he gave a half shrug, letting his gaze slide across the room.  Paperwork never made sense.

"Could be worse, then," he said.  On the opposite side of the room, the wizard with the teakettle head had started to let out a faint whistling noise, as if he were approaching the boiling point.  Letting out a faint snort, Kurby glanced back at Zelda.  "At least once you're done with it, we can get all of this settled."

Zelda followed Kurby's gaze to the man with a tea kettle head and frowned deeply. Even for magic, it was bizarre. Set dressing for this surrealist tableau she found herself in. She shook her head again.

"Oh, are you a Seer?" Zelda snapped at Kurby. She was immediately aware that she hadn't intendedto react that way, but she didn't make any move to correct herself. She felt her agitation and anxiety growing.

"I'm not filling this out. Barely here myself think in here."

With that, she marched back over to the counter and spoke again to the Mediwizard at reception. "Look, I can't do this form. My hand is - I'll explain to a Healer."

      "Madam, I'm sorry, we do need the form. Can your friend help you with it?"

Zelda narrowed her eyes and looked over to Kurby with pointed glare, not for help with the form but for help to get her past this sphinx. She had half a mind to invoke the name of Storm, or even Misslethorpe -  she was well known to them both - but she'd rather no one see her like this. (She wasn't to that point yet, anyway.)

Who in Merlin’s tight white underpants could lose a patient!?

They’d tried to keep it a secret, the night shift healers on the third floor. One French male, poisoning case causing hallucinations. He’d managed to slip past his healers and various other hospital staff and of course Miranda had found out. The Head Healer found everything out. And she certainly wasn’t happy.

So, Miranda found herself in the atrium approaching a welcome witch, her high heeled shoes clicking on the stone floor across the room.
“I need you to-” The head healer stopped as she heard a voice to her side and frowned, head spinning around. Zelda Sellaphix was holding a clipboard with an admittance sheet on. “Sign her in.” Mira waved a hand to the witch addressing Zelda before looking back to the witch in front of her. “I need you to call a hospital wide search. French male in his 80s escaped his ward during hallucinations. Have the roof checked. Perhaps the morgue.”

Then her gaze fell to Zelda with a look on concern. Dark eyes assessed, sweeping across her body. No blood or oozing anywhere.
“What’s happened?”

Zelda was looking back at him to...twist arms?  Smash heads?  Break the clipboard over the Mediwizard's head?  Kurby sighed, but whatever the intention of the request, he started forward anyhow, hefting Zelda's back up higher on his shoulder.

But before he could intervene, a healer that no one could help but recognize had burst into the lobby, immediately taking control of the room.  Kurby's eyebrows raised, but he stayed silent, exchanging a glance with Zelda as Miranda Storm overrode the problematic Mediwix.  If only visits to St. Mungo's were always this easy.

Head Healer Storm buzzed around the room some more, giving orders, before her attention settled on Zelda again.  "What's happened?"

The werewolf hunter raised his eyebrows, giving Zelda a quick, sidelong glance.

"Bad reaction to somethin'," he put in, before the herbologist could downplay her situation and back out.  "It's been goin' on since early August."  It had been the night before his birthday, when he'd stopped in at Sellaphix Apothecary.  "Really painful headaches.  Actin' funny.  She's tried bezoars, but they haven't helped."

Miranda Storm appeared and Zelda found herself questioning if she'd said the name out loud and didn't remember, such was the confusion of the last week. Before she had her mental footing, Storm was asking for details and Kurby was providing them.

Daggers. It was a small thing, reasonably helpful even, but even that tiny loss of control of the situation vexed her. And she didn't appreciate the description that she'd been 'acting funny'. She'd lashed out at Frank, suspected she'd ransacked her own shop. And she'd nearly murdered Nate Briggs.[1] She was still on tenterhooks he'd report it and she'd be hauled off to the courts, so she hadn't mentioned it to anyone.

A cascade of explanations and questions were held back only by fear of what would follow. But she had to admit, Miranda Storm was a witch she trusted to get to the bottom of this. She glanced at Kurby again with a look of apology. He'd done more than he was required.

"Can we go somewhere?"

1.	Aug 19 - It Wasn't Me

"Bad reaction to somethin'," The wizard beside Zelda informed the Head Healer and Miranda resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow. Who was the stranger heavily garbed in silver? Zelda’s husband was serving time in Azkaban. Was this a recent and youthful replacement?

“Okay.” Miranda muttered as her gaze danced back to Zelda. “We’ll get some privacy.” An attempt at an encouraging smile crossed her lips as she glanced behind her. One of the quick assessment rooms would do before they decided on a floor.

“Do you want…ah…Mr…” A hand was waved at the wizard who liked silver perhaps too much, “to join you?”

There was no waiting for a response, because Miranda turned on her heel and made her way through the waiting area and down a tight corridor where they arrived at a door that she pushed open and held for her newest patient.

Miranda was inspecting her and Zelda had to allow it; that was the whole point. But it still felt alien. There was a small stammer between the three as Miranda showed uncertainty as to the relevance of Kurby Bagnold. Zelda mumbled something about being 'fine' and took the bag she'd packed from him. She didn't think what he'd do with himself now, but she did remember that he would have his sister look in on the boys. That was one thing less to worry about.

A blessing on Kurby. She touched his shoulder as she followed Miranda away.

The assessment room was smaller and the lights dimmer. There was an examination bed, but she took one of the chairs instead. And she began to describe the entire thing again. Elixa and Kurby both had part of the story, and Frank and Figaro would have their own slice. But it was time someone knew everything.

"I'm going to tell you everything, so please. Just listen."   She sat back, crossed her arms, and related the tale as much as she could recall. More and more of the past few weeks was fuzzier and fuzzier. "I'm not sure when it started. Two weeks ago? About the time we met. I started getting these ... headaches. Not pain so much as ringing or screaming in my ears. They'd last a few seconds at first, completely consuming. I tried dittany and a bezoar." 

Zelda didn't feel the need to elaborate on those points - Miranda must know when she talked about making her own dittany remedy, it would have been a good one.

"Didn't help. I thought - I thought someone was poisoning me, Merlin knows there are a few who'd want to. But that's not what this is. And then my hand."

She slowly moved her left and out from her chest to hold it in front of her. Her fingers were tense, the muscles in her forearm visibly flexed, a vein easy to see.

"It's not ... mine anymore. It's cold. It's ... doing things that I don't want it to do. Started with the headaches, just .. tingling. Then numbness, and - "

Zelda shut her mouth. She didn't dare say.

"If I tell you something, must you keep it secret?" She knew there were rules, but there could be no question.

Zelda made a beeline for the seat which left Miranda a choice of standing or leaning against the slightly raised bed. With the suggestion of being told everything, Miranda nominated leaning against the bed and grabbing a nearby clipboard with some note paper and a self-inking quill. It looked like the elderly patient would need to be found by someone other than the Head Healer tonight.

How Zelda knew that it wasn’t poison, her friend didn’t yet ask. Instead, she listened and made notes, quill quickly scratching against the parchment on the clipboard to form her usual illegible scrawl.

Eyes gazed over the hand and arm, her lips pressed together in thought. She didn’t yet make any comment.

"If I tell you something, must you keep it secret?"

“You know that it depends what you tell me, Zelda. If anything could endanger you or others, I am under a legal obligation to share. Anything else if strictly in confidence.” she lowered the clipboard to really look at her friend, concern marring her expression. “You’re best sharing any concerns, now.”

Of all the people Zelda had yet confided in, Miranda Storm was the easiest to tell. The chilly distance that made her more rival than friend was exactly what Zelda needed right now. She didn't need hand-wringing or concern; she needed this solved. Besides, Miranda couldn't bother her to go to St. Mungo's if she were already here.

Endanger you or others...

Zelda bit her tongue inside her mouth, agonizing for a moment more. Aurors could not be involved, so she'd hold back the specifics of the Briggs incident as much as she could. But there was no way around it: Zelda could make no assurances at all she was safe or safe to be around.

"I tried - it tried - to kill someone. And I almost wasn't able to stop it. I was angry and then," she winced, implying the violent turn. "My arm just went after him. Choking him. I could feel it, like through a thick glove, but I couldn't make it let go. It. My hand."

She shrugged, contemptuous.

"And then it stopped. I think I made it stop. I'd pulled against it, struggled against it, willed it, and last minute."

Zelda kept looking down, bit her tongue again, and swallowed back a lump in her throat. Tears threatened. Now that she said it, she supposed that Miranda's own hands were tied.

Zelda began to share what was more than a small cause for concern, but Miranda’s expression remained calm, the well-practiced poker face of a well-practiced healer. The calm expression, however, didn’t mean that the Head Healer wasn’t worried or surprised by what she’d just heard because she’d certainly not encountered something similar before and was currently trying to process whom might be better suited to approaching the problem.

“Okay.” The witch said, her mind spinning in circles over how to approach the situation.

“Wait here.” The words were said about a minute later and Miranda stood and left the room without waiting for a confirmation that Zelda was okay with that. Several minutes later, she returned with a hospital hitwizard in a blue uniform whom she had stand outside the door with the instruction to enter only if she shouted.
“Precaution.” The single word was said to the both before the door was shut and her whole attention was on her old friend.
“It sounds as if could be a hex rather than poison.” A hand was held out and she took a step forward in approach. “You’ll let me see?”

Zelda glanced up and searched Miranda's face for some clue. A hex made as much sense as anything else. But how? Had she been cursed? There were horrible things that could be done from a distance in Dark Arts rituals. And what -

Her train of thought was cut off when the Head Healer suddenly stood up and disappeared for a few moments. The look she gave Miranda when she returned was one of shock, horror, and rage. She had to have expected the law would be a factor but it didn't make it more upsetting that Miranda had done it with such suddenness. What had she told the wizard in blue? Did he recognize her? She could tell by his attire he wasn't Level Two, but that didn't ease her worry.

It took her a moment to take her eyes off the hitwizard and turn her attention to Miranda's request. Only then did she realize how hard she'd been holding her hand to her chest and how tense her hand was.

Zelda stood up to meet Miranda, and slowly released her hand and held it out to her. As she did so, her left fist uncurled and looked more like a claw than anything else.

"I didn't do that," she said. Her control of the hand was completely gone, and she was lucky to have periodical command of the elbow and shoulder. She hesitated, glanced out to the hitiwzard then whispered.

"Be careful."

Despite a surprising look of wrath and indignation starting to marr her friend’s features, Miranda maintained a cool composure.

“Mr Humphreys is outside the door legally because of what you’ve just told me, Zelda.” Mira’s voice was calm, quiet. She’d taken on her usual style when working with patients, a style that was a stark contrast to how she spoke to staff members and those she met in her personal life. The harsh cold demeanour had vanished.

A breath was drawn in when suddenly Zelda’s fingers uncurled changing her expression from the rage Mira had seen moments ago. Her own wand had been drawn from the pocket of her emerald and golden robes, but she didn’t point it yet.

“I will.” Her gaze shot also to the door before she gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “He can’t hear unless we shout.” Privacy was something deeply valued when one was in such physical turmoil.

It was with a tentative hand that Miranda reached out her right while her left wand hand was held low.

There was no obvious warning. Zelda's arm acted without the restraint of a body that cared for its own muscle and flesh, that felt no fatigue  or pain. It would move how it willed even if it broke itself. With lighting speed and an iron grip it snatched Miranda Storm's wrist and wrenched it in a violent arc at an angle and speed that would put one's elbow at great risk for dislocation. Zelda's nails dug into Miranda's skin.

Zelda reacted as fast as she could, attempting to lurch away from Miranda to try and pull herself off. The tears were flowing now as she grit her teeth and cried out in effort and fear. But she was no match for herself, Zelda just as trapped as Miranda. She willed agains it, pulling at her left hand with her right.

With no time to pull back from the arm snapping out, Mira found her wrist gripped tightly and yanked. She let out a yell, crying out in surprise and pain as Zelda’s arm span hers around, nearly pulling it from the elbow socket. The grip wasn’t a human level of strength, it was something far more powerful.

The yell only attracted the attention of Humphries outside who barged into the room, wand held high and pointed at both women. His eyes were wide, surprised and confused. But his duty was to protect his boss at that moment so the curse dealt to Zelda was swift and efficient. She was blasted back with a perfected expelliarmus and Miranda nearly dragged with her before the hand finally released and Zelda went flying into the wall. Having been knocked off balance, the Head Healer grabbed the bed and centred herself once more. Her wrist was bright red.

“Get her on the bed.” She instructed the hitwizard as calmly as she could after having just been almost assaulted by her friend’s hand which wasn’t her own.  Every day was certainly a fresh problem at St Mungo’s and Miranda, after 30 years, was still being surprised! “And restrain her.” Stood up straight, the healed rubbed her wrist with a frown. It definitely didn’t look like she’d be going home any time soon.