“You should go home, Miranda.” Delilah Snardsworthy urged her boss in a calm but serious manner. Delilah had worked with head healers and other high ranking hospital officials for most of her working life. Miranda Storm was, by far, the one far more likely to suffer from a serious burnout. The witch, in Delilah’s opinion, worked too many hours and too hard. Yes, she could snipe and snark and she was terrible with names, but she spent more hours at work than with her own husband and family. She was good at her job, of course. But one could be good at their jobs on a lot more sleep.

“Later.” Storm said, closing her eyes. Her skin had an unusual pallor to it, a cool quality that almost made her translucent. She’d been working too many hours with the poor souls claiming residency up in the fourth floor’s permanent wards. Clearly it had been having an adverse effect, an effect that Delilah considered bringing up in a quick owl to Mr Storm as a precaution.

“Drinks for two, Delilah.” Miranda waved a hand and a cardigan from the coat stand floated over. “Tea, no saucer. And a hot chocolate.”
“With those mini marshmallows you like. Got it, boss.” with that, Delilah left and Miranda pulled her cardigan on to fight the chill in the perfectly warm office.

In the outer office, Delilah almost jumped to see the tall and lanky wizard who’d been working rather closely with the Head Healer.
“Keep it short. That woman needs to go home soon.” The motherly tone came out despite Morgenthau being at least a decade older. A mildly threatening gaze was cast before Delilah went to source hot chocolate and tea with no saucer.

Miranda’s gaze snapped up from the notes that she was writing about today’s work with those still affected from Monday’s dementor attack. Her hair had been scraped into a scruffy ponytail, long waves falling down her back. She finished a sentence in her usual messy handwriting and glasses propped on the bridge of her nose were lifted to sit atop her head.
“The board of warlocks are harassing me to get rid of Musgrave. Please give me something good to grovel with.”

            "Keep it short. That woman needs to go home soon."

Yavin Morgenthau smiled magnanimously at the Head Healer's assistant, never one to make promises he might not be able to keep. He did not worry about Miranda's busy schedule - with someone like Delilah to fuss over her, there were presumably enough people fussing over that aspect of the woman's life. His main concern was to do with Lawrence and the research they were undertaking for the betterment of healing minds; this was always going to involve late nights and overworking the nerves. Yavin himself had come straight from the Ministry after a full day's work or managing its many strange mysteries.

He raised his eyebrows at Miranda as he entered, shedding his damp jacket after recovering a set of notes from its pocket. "We've made progress, if that's, hm, if that's what you mean." Yavin dropped the parchment sheets on to the desk before taking a seat across from her.

"I think we are close to, ah, to deriving a set of common triggers that will allow for, that is, the encouragement of positive emotions in the subject," he explained with a shrug - the work they were doing couldn't be rushed after all. In spite of his reassurances to Edwin Glass, he didn't feel as pressured as Miranda did to turn up a magical answer for these damaged minds. "It's better than a standstill."

Yavin crossed his legs and adjusted his spectacles as he observed the Healer with his usual discernment. Snardsworthy's concern was justified: this wasn't mere exhaustion, nor was it the end of a particularly bad day.

"You're not looking your best," the older wizard remarked, thoughtful. "Still, aha, still smarting from Monday?"
 

Yavin described progress that wasn’t fast enough to satisfy the board of warlocks breathing down her neck. They expected answers immediately considering the danger Musgrave evidently posed being within the walls of St Mungo’s. Miranda, having experienced the evens of Monday evening, was inclined to agree. This had stopped being a research project in the hopes of using it to help her patients. It had become threatening and dangerous. Morgenthau, in his distinctly average sweater, didn’t seem to understand the need for results. How lovely it must be to not worry about deadlines.

The wizard commented on her appearance, Storm let out a laugh. “Sleep’s been hard to come by.” she brushed off in her usual manner.
“My patients are smarting.” The Head Healer stated coolly, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms. “Any progress we’d made with them was for nothing. Some are worse.” Not to mention the draining effect that working with them had on Miranda. “Before, there was building a sense of hope, but now every one of them is devoid of such optimism. There’s nothing but a void of despair.” A void of despair that was starting to attach itself onto their healer.

The door to her office opened and Delilah re-entered carrying a tray which she placed on the desk between them. One hot chocolate with marshmallows and a pot of tea with a cup but not saucer as instructed. As her assistant pierced Yavin’s gaze with a pointed look, Miranda gladly took her hot chocolate and brought it her lips.

He listened in silence to this news of the other patients. Yavin's attention was largely reserved for Musgrave - he had neither time nor energy to check in on every one of the possessions, in addition to the odd appointment with Aileen and Abby Reid as well. In a way it was more useful to study the coherent victims: their co-existence with the pentrals helped him to distinguish the seams between their merging consciousnesses.

            "There’s nothing but a void of despair," continued Miranda and he frowned at this particular phrase, the way it was said.

Drinks arrived. Yavin took his tea, oblivious to the assistant's look at him, more focused on trying to puzzle out why the Head Healer's words were bothering him. It sounded.... personal. More personal than looking into someone from the outside. He sipped from the cup.

"Are you taking, hm, taking precautions?" Yavin finally asked as he met her in the eye meaningfully. "I've noticed you keep your doors wide open," he tapped his forehead, "and that can't be, aha, can't be helpful when you're knocking on other people's doors all the time."

The despair and depression were understandable, considering what had happened on Monday. But he knew better than to let it seep into his mindscape when he had been a Healer himself, and certainly not now when he dealt with minds such as Lawrence's.

It struck him as strange that Miranda did not secure her own boundaries.

Precautions… Miranda frowned as she listened. She did everything required of her by hospital regulations and law. She took no chances where patent rights and mental health were concerned. Everything was by the book.

But he mentioned doors and tapped his forehead. Miranda pursed her lips as she came to understand where he was going with the question. It made her uncomfortable that this wizard seemed to know so much, to have such a good read on her. Most people didn’t dare question her or point out her faults. For years, she’d had a wall around her person which prevented such questioning. Now, the wizard who’d been her idol for years was beating down the wall and she wasn’t at all sure how she felt about it. Would she need to discuss such with her therapist?

“Being open hasn’t been unhelpful until now. I’ve never needed to close my doors before.” She placed her hot chocolate back on the desk. “Occlumency takes concentration. Lots of keys weighing you down.” Well, if he was going to us the analogy of locking doors… “My patients are never of the ability or mind set to go exploring in my…” The analogy was ridiculous. Miranda rolled her eyes, “Demented and tortured patients don’t go prying.” She knew it would have been worthwhile to learn the skill years ago, but Miranda was also a tremendously stubborn individual.

“This is an extreme circumstance.” The head healer said with a shrug.

There was no such thing as a complacent conversation with Miranda Storm.

Yavin had decided over the past few weeks of working within these walls that she was the kind of person who never let their fists down, except for perhaps the mysterious Mr Storm. He set aside his tea as the witch explained her relationship with Occlumency. He had learned it first when helping his mother treat patients who were Legilimens - the corresponding art was in some ways easier to pick up afterwards.

"The keys don't weigh you down -" he pointed out with a dry smile, "- with enough practice." Everything took time and, of course, there was always an initial hurdle in trying to maintain balance.

Eventually it would simply become a part of how one functioned. His ability to perpetuate awareness of the mindscape worked in tandem with approaching other minds, rather than against one another.

            "This is an extreme circumstance."

"Your entire career is an extreme, ahah, an extreme circumstance." Yavin snorted and gestured at the portraits of Miranda's predecessors on the office walls, fingers wiggling expressively. "Head Healer, entitled to information that, hm, that the average wix isn't. Your patients might not go prying but there are others..." he trailed off.

There was a touch of something grim in his smile. It was not mandatory to go on record as a Legilimens unless you intended to use it for professional purposes. This left room for unregulated mind magic, a disturbing notion.

"I had a - sorry, I have an unregistered pupil capable of obliterating unguarded doors," he murmured and raised his eyebrows at Mira. "A youth, practically. We can't, that is, we can't account for others like them." Yavin crossed his legs, eying her carefully. "You're a risk factor if you don't, ah, don't try to protect your mind."

Dark eyes narrowed at the suggestion of her being privy to information others weren’t. It was, of course, nothing compared to the Head of the Department of Mysteries. She knew medical problems and worked to solve them. That amount of confidential discussions with Ministers of Magic were countable on one hand. Clearly the wizard thought far more of her position than she. Head Healers were required to have an ability in legilimency and occlumency. They were required to lead.

"You're a risk factor if you don't, ah, don't try to protect your mind." Yavin pointed out.

The words caused a smirk to twist the Head Healer’s lips.
“According to you, me breathing is a risk factor, Yavin. If one were to listen to your concerns about me, I’d be out of a job and no doubt admitted onto the fourth floor as Misslethorpe’s newest patient.”

“The most one might gleam from my mind is some horrendously boring facts about myself and my husband.” Miranda shuffled in her seat, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the desk. “Tell me, Yavin, what would I possibly be risking? Other than perhaps a short invasion of my privacy?” She knew there was truth in her words, but she hated not being the smartest person in the room, it was quite infuriating.

Something told him that 'horrendously boring' was not a term often used in association with the Head Healer, much less by herself. The only boring people in this world were the people who did not act or who refused to leave their comfort zones - this didn't sound like Miranda at all.

He leaned back in his chair with a dry expression, taking his tea along with him.

            "Tell me, Yavin, what would I possibly be risking? Other than perhaps a short invasion of my privacy?"

A fair question but perhaps the wrong one to ask a man whose life had so often revolved around the concept of infiltration. Anyone who surveyed the security measures on level nine knew how to put themselves into the position of an infiltrator anyway.

"Lawrence, for example." Yavin held out his hand, counting out points on his long and manicured fingers. "Where is Lawrence held? Who are his, hm, his Hitwizards and what are their personality markers? Or perhaps, hah, perhaps a glimpse through your eyes at his visitor log or the signatures, hm, within."

The wizard tilted his head slightly, considering a different angel to adopt in his favour. "You have been targeted before. Your, ah, your hospital has been targeted before," he pointed out.

Boring details about one's everyday life was exactly where people would begin to find out how to strategise. Yavin drank more of his tea and held the cup between both his hands, reminding himself of the reason he had brought this up.

"It would also help you from, um, from being so affected by your patients' state of mind."

Miranda didn’t like his examples. Her expression clearly demonstrated that she didn’t like his examples.
In truth, someone wanting to know the information on Lawrence could have gone to one of the healers on the fourth floor. Now, they all knew he was there, just not the grim details of his situation. They knew why he was there and that Sandy was working with him. Of course, the need to secrecy remained, but staff needed to be made aware of any risks. Her staff and patients had been in enough danger in December, after all.

“I’ve been targeted by your patient.” the witch chose to point out as Yavin paused for a sip of tea. No one else had been after her.

The mention of her state of mind caused Miranda to look down into her cup. It was the largest drawback of her work. She’d finish most sessions with her demented patients feeling very much what they felt. Of course, she’d considered occlumency in the past, but had always felt it would only hinder rather than help. The benefits of being such a skilled legillimens outweighed the possible effects of not locking her own mental doors.

Thin fingers with perfectly manicured nails wrapped around her mug of hot chocolate and she lifted it slowly to her lips, pausing before taking a sip.
“So, when do we start?” Dark eyebrows rose in questioning and she took a gulp of hot chocolate and now melted marshmallows.

Ah, so Lawrence was his patient when he was being troublesome - and their patient when results were progressive. Yavin felt rather bad for Miranda's hypothetical children just then. For a moment it seemed like nothing might convince her to secure the barriers of her mind, but apparently her own well-being was incentive enough for consideration.

              "So, when do we start?"

He laughed, once, putting down his cup. "I didn't, hah, didn't realise I was offering." Yavin shot her a humorous look and paused to consider the idea. Miranda would be far from his first pupil ever - his travels had led him to individuals who had made similar demands, although usually for a briefer period of time.

Virgil was his only real protégé and the kid didn't exactly need hand holding at this point his tutelage. Neither would Miranda, as she was already an accomplished Legilimens.

"I don't have a lot of, ah, a lot of time to spare," he clarified with another vague gesture of wiggling fingers. "If you can, hm, can arrange it, next week. Choose an hour." Yavin glanced around him and realised that this simply would not do. "At the Ministry, of course."

They spent enough time at the hospital as it was. Level nine was his territory and it contained all the resources he might need, including the odd Unspeakable with Legilimency.

"I didn't, hah, didn't realise I was offering."

Was the wizard dense? He’d just drilled into her the risks of not practicing the skill, the merits of closing off her mind and he’d even mentioned that he had a pupil. How was that not an offer of his services to the Head Healer of St Mungos? Yavin should really have been honoured that she accepted his offer rather than laughing him out of the room. Instead, he was the one who gave on solitary laugh of confused amusement. Miranda simply raised her eyebrows.

"I don't have a lot of, ah, a lot of time to spare," the wizard backtracked. The witch covered her own smirk and drowned her biting response with another sip of hot chocolate. She wondered how much spare time he guessed she had considering she also sat on the Wizengamot. She hardly had the time to come to the Ministry of Magic for this.

“Snardsworthy can organise that.” Miranda would be lying if she denied feeling any sort of excitement at the opportunity to be taught by the wizard who’d been her idol since she’d begun her career 30 years ago.

As if they’d never discussed it, Miranda took the parchments he’d brought in with him and dropped her glasses back to have a read.
“How is the patient?”

And just like that, Yavin Morgenthau had another pupil! He could already hear Virgil's drawling voice inside his head - should I be jealous?

A part of his mind was already wondering about the different methods and approaches that might be used in their imminent lessons, and whether it would be wiser to press the Healer or whether she was one of those students who performed better without an overbearing tutor. All things that would become clear soon enough.

"Oh, he's doing about as well as anyone might after, hum, after an encounter with Dementors." Yavin replied in a distracted tone. "But, yes, ah, let's go into detail. There have been some, shall we say, some interesting discoveries."

Not, he thought, the first nor the last to be had in this strange new part of his life.