That was simply ridiculous. To say the least. But the possibility of getting – ironically – fired was a little more distant than the urgent concern of staying like that forever. “Oh, Lieber Gott, what a shame...”, she thought.

She was working on a potion when something went wrong and the cauldron exploded, setting fire on her desk. That wasn't a huge fire, actually; that would be easy to control if Una hasn't freaked out. She tried to cast the very first spell that came to her mind, it went wrong too, and everything around her simply freeze - including herself. Not that she turned into an ice cube, but she was certainly... blue?

No, purple; as Una verified carefully looking down to her trembling hand. Blue was some minutes ago. Some old Unspeakables tried to help her, but she obviously messed up so badly that the most reasonable attitude was to take her to St. Mungo's.

So she stood on that scary, empty room, wrapped on a blanket, waiting for the Healer to come see her. If she was lucky at least on that point, it wouldn't be Thorpe or Foley. What would they think of her after that incident?

She huddled under the blanket, slowly, fighting to stop trembling so hard when the door opened. Una looked up and saw the mediwizard. A new face, indeed, and she would whisper in relief if she could actually control her lungs.

In doubt if she would be able to greet him properly, Una mumbled a difficult “H-H-Hi...”

Simon stepped into the room, the attendant's notes in his hand and his eyes scanning them. He looked up at Una and offered her a quick smile, pulling his glasses from his suit's inner breast pocket and slipping them on.

"Good evening, Miss Freher," he said, tone as calm and casual, as if she wasn't sitting there turning blue - wait - purple. Despite a calm demeanor, he began moving with practiced ease; carefully moving quickly without making it clear that was that he was doing. "Simon Greenburg; you can call me Simon, if you like," he said, by way of introduction.

"I understand a spell went awry?" He asked, directing her to sit on the exam table, adjusting the lay of it so it was slightly tilted. He took one of her hands, letting her stay under the blanket. He held her freezing cold hand gently, his fingers testing her pulse and carefully inspecting the skin without massaging it. He hadn't seen a case like this in some time, but at least the effect was fairly mundane; hypothermia and frostbite. As far as spell damage went, at least. Her hand was still in danger of dropping off if nothing was done.

At least she was still shivering. While to the average person that was a bad sign, when in came to this sort of thing, that was good - it was when shivering stopped that things were really going downhill. Her hand turning purple, on the other hand - pun not intended - was something that needed to helped right away.

"Can you tell me what happened, and how you're feeling?" The paper he'd been handed when grabbed from his rounds had said Unspeakable. Simon liked treating Unspeakables, for the most part; they usually had a very particular type of mind that made them good at describing exactly how they were feeling even while their legs dropped off.

Even as he asked this he'd gone to the counter and returned to the bedside with a shallow pan, full of warm water. He immersed her hand, drawing his wand.

Una tried to follow him with the eyes, still not sure if she should answer to his introduction. He already knew her name, after all, and she was really tired of trembling. Talking that way wasn't pleasant at all.

"I understand a spell went awry?" He asked, while leading her to sit on the exam table, what she did carefully and slowly. “Y-y-y-ou co-could s-s-say so? I-I've... I...” she stood with her mouth open, her chin shaking nonstop. Una watched unsteady as he analyzed her left hand. The right one remained covered by the glove, protected under the blanket, but she knew that maybe it wouldn't stay that way for much too long.

At least he was a mediwizard, an experienced one or so he seems to be. Should be used to see not-so-pretty things.

Then he asked her to tell him what happened and how was she feeling. Well, that wasn't simple, neither to remember exactly nor to tell on her condition. “I-I-I was work-ing-ing o-on a-a-a p-potion and-and then su-su-suddenly... Boom... ” she said serious, before take a long deep breath. She hated fire, she hated deal with fire, but ice was proving to be traumatizing as well.

“I-I-I've p-pani-nicked, sir... ” she let him put her hand on the pan almost not feeling it. “Tri-tri-tri-tried to free-eeze it inst-ead o-of ex-ex-extinguish it, oh... So-so d-dumb.” Una rolled eyes, leaning back on the table.

“N-n-now I'm sh-sh-shivering a-and I'm tired-ed but ri-right now I-I'm fee-eeling n-nothing...” and that would be a good thing if she could stand still and out of risk of losing members and, well, life. No! That was awful, actually. And deeply embarrassing “I-I was f-feeling li-like bur-r-ning a-a-at fir-rs-first, t-though...”

A freezing spell, then. An odd effect for one - perhaps amplified by the potion, which was unusual and would certainly explain the full-body discoloration...

With her hand in the warm water, he raised his wand and began drawing it up her arm towards her throat. The glow on its end brought a tingle of feeling as the nerves reacted. It didn't cause pain, exactly; and s it moved, the color of the light on the end of his wand changed. His eyebrows, almost imperceptibly, rose.

He patted her arm. "Thank you," he said, and to keep her talking, he added, "I know it's hard to speak, but keeping you focused and awake is important. Why don't you tell me about your work? The bits you can tell me, of course," he added, almost as an after thought. "You work with potions, yes?"

The counter and drawers below it turned out to be quite practical. He pulled a drawer open, revealing lines and lines of potions in simple vials. He knelt on the floor, selecting certain ones.

"I'm going to have you drink something. It'll feel a bit uncomfortable at first, but it'll help with the shivering and stop the cold from spreading," he explained, as he stood again, already mixing the potions with the quick hand movements and practiced ease of someone who did this daily.

There was a poof of smoke, like a tired cough, and the sweet smell of oranges filled the room. Simon quietly coughed himself, waving his spare hand to encourage the swirling, thick brown and orange smoke to disperse. The vial he handed Una contained a thick brown liquid, which smelled and tasted strongly of oranges; so strongly, in fact, it was rather like an orange candy in liquid form. On the lips and tongue it tingled gently, and when swallowed it slowly warmed the whole body.

"Sip it slowly, don't gulp it," he instructed, helping her to sit up.

She tried to catch a glimpse of what he was doing with his wand; and as she was still shivering, she couldn't tell if any of her movements was a reaction to the tingle. When he came to her throat she could no longer see the light, so she looked to the other side suddenly.

“Y-y-yes I-I do-o...” she answered, with her head still turned. Remind about her work on that situation made her feel a little worse. “I-i-it's b-b-been less-ss th-an a mou-mo-mouth, o-oh, I-I'm so-so-so f-f-f-ired.” Una paused to sight. She wanted to close her eyes, sleep and awake to discover that nothing happened. But it wouldn't be, and she couldn't sleep, so she resigned to just continue.

“I-I'm an a-a-alchemist... S-spagyric, y-y-ou know... H-herbs-s and p-plants a-and s-stuff... T-trying t-t-to d-d-develop-pe m-m-medicines t-the m-most, b-b-but n-not on-only...” she closed her eyes, trying to focus.  That was tiresome.

“I-i-it's p-possible that-t we-e ca-came to wor-k-k t-together s-s-somet-time i-if I-I stay t-there...” and if he could trust her enough after that accident. Una turned to him and saw Simon selecting the vials, what made her curious and about to ask what he would use on her case. But then he automatically explained  at the same way he would to any other patient. Naturally, being a potioneer was different from being a mediwizard, and not something that would put her on a special position.

Still she was interested on what he was doing, and besides the irritating smoke that made her cough a little, tiring her a bit more, she found the smell... funny. Una would expect ginger, garlic, even firewhisky, but... “O-o-o-orange?”

She took the vial with the right hand, that was trembling slightly less than the rest. Una hasn't made much ceremony taking the potion, drinking it as she was drinking a glass of water with absolutely no rush. Wasn't uncomfortable as he said, just made her feel a bit strange on the beginning. But when she started to feel some warm inside again, she slowly passed to feel pain of her condition too.

The remained cold was burning, her muscles was aching, and that was just the first moments of something that she couldn't tell if was over or not. It would be a long long evening and night, at least. She frowned imagining.

“S-sir...? What now?” She asked, handing him the empty vial; her expression still displeased.

Her shivering made her story hard to follow; still, he picked up on one important woe, and he could address that, at least. He patted her hand reassuringly as she drank the potion he'd handed her. So long as she didn't have a reaction, the worst was over, and cleanup could begin.

"If they fired every Unspeakable who comes in here after an accident, the Department would be empty," he assured her. "Mistakes happen, Miss Freher; and I'm sure you will not receive a penalty." He chuckled, in a kind and professional way. "I can guarantee those who would be dealing with your discipline have been here at least once themselves!"

He took the vial when she had finished, floating it over to the wash bin. "You work on medicine?" He asked, genuinely interested; that was his specialty, as well, though her work was likely more clandestine, for lack of a better word, than his. "You will have to let me know more about your work, if you can - I have to admit to being an enthusiast..."

Simon's smile was quiet but kind. "You'll likely have to be here overnight - it depends on how far the damage has gone." He coughed, in a way that was eminently polite. "If it's spread to your chest, you may have to remove your top - would you prefer a Mediwitch?"

When he tried to cheer her up telling about the Unspeakables, she smiled as open as she could as a kind of retribution. It was nice of him. Of course she felt, and still was feeling, bad enough to turn all that into a huge deal; but yes, Una knew that the Department of Mysteries was to tricky to remain seven days without a single accident. Her father would tell her tons of stories about that when she return home – or when he go visit her. And, thinking about it, she wondered if anyone has warned her family.

But then Simon asked about her work and she got distracted thinking about the answer. “Yes, I ra-rather work with me-medicines...” she noticed the trembling was slowly easing and looked to her hand on the water to verify if it was at least blue again. Almost there. “Ah... the work p-process isn't ex-exactly secret, Herr Greenburg, it's the g-good old Alchemy; but o-of course not ev-everything can be f-found in books...” she smiled, simply, before slightly shrug. “Is t-there something that-t you're particularly in-interested in?”

Una raised her eyebrows considering when he announced the possibilities. Stay the night in observation, ok, she had thought about it already. About the cold spreading to her chest, and be half naked in front of a strange man, well... she already had cogitated about removing her glove in front of him, and that was worst to her than removing her blouse. Besides, he wasn't exactly a man on that situation, at least she wasn't able to see him that way. He was a Mediwizard, and seemed to be a very serious one.

“I don't want t-to think ab-about it spreading, not n-now that the p-potion seems t-to be work-king. But if i-it does, I will re-rely on your p-professionalism, s-sir.” She said, nodding confident. “Someone al-already s-sent a message to my f-family?” She asked in addition, though.

"Several things," he said. Since she was stabilizing, he stood and went to the door, sticking his head out; it was late enough in the day that the Hospital seemed quieter than usual. He said something, his voice muffled by the door frame, before he returned to Una's side, inspecting her hand before going to the counter of vials again.

"I've been looking at diseases," he explained. "And a few conditions. But I mostly focus on spell damage and effects. Obliviation, blindness, severed limbs..." Limbs were the worst part. Normally, they were easy to reattach; but when destroyed by dark magic, the reattachment was sometimes impossible.

"To be honest with you, I try to study everything," he admitted, with a hint of sheepishness. "Whatever needs to be done." Which was everything. Death, disease and handicap attacked in so many ways; at times it seemed impossible to treat or cure everything. But that was no reason not to try.

A mediwitch entered, carrying a tray of bizarre tools. Some were obvious - needles, stethoscopes; others were obvious only to Simon. "Thank you," He said to the mediwitch, who smiled at Una as she left.

"This may feel rather odd, to warn you," he said. "Most patients claim this feels like having your arm put to sleep and having the tingle pulled out." His smile was humorous again. "I have to admit, it's an oddly accurate description..."

He picked up Una's arm, having her slide her arm out of her sleeve. Picking up a vial, he poured a thick white salve onto her arm; wherever it touched, it tingled gently, and as he began to massage it over her arm, it started changing color where it touched the frozen flesh.

“Obliviation...” her mind echoed when he said that. Simon suddenly seemed to Una like the mediwizards that took care of her when she was little. Kind, gentle, and with the bad habit of searching things inside her head. They never understood she didn't wanted to remember; from the bottom of her heart she wanted her memories dead. It was possible that the mediwizard near her now could get interested on her old case if he heard about it, and because of that she decided already not telling him if he checks her other hand.

"Whatever needs to be done." He concluded, making her smile politely and nod in agreement. “For s-sure, sir... but it's p-pretty much e-everything, in your c-case, I i-imagine.” She paused and closed eyes for a second, moaning low, trying to keep that to herself. Everything was aching, but she knew that was expected.

“I-in Alchemy we ha-have Panacea, the c-cure of all t-things, but no o-one got-t even closer t-to find it... I-I've started s-some searches, b-but t-there's more urgent t-things to deal now, can't waste t-time in something s-so... ” she bit her lip, looking to some empty point on the other side of the room while thinking on the right world. “Chimerical...” and shrugged. Unfortunately that is, one problem at time was far more possible, and even logical.

She watched the mediwitch entering at the room with some surprise. So he called her when he went to the door, Una concluded. She raised her eyebrows when saw the tools, but smiled back before the woman left.

“Oh, there's no p-problem...” she answered when he explained the effect of what he was about to do. Una strangely could understand and was even used to that feeling. She let him pick up her arm and just watched as he started massaging with the salve. Once again she was curious, and tried to feel the smell of that to at least have some clue.

It caused a good sensation, though. And the part of putting her arm to sleep was somehow appealing. Because of the general muscular pain, she wished she could take a bath with that salve.

Una looked at him after some moments, remembering what she was saying before the interruption. “Herr Greenburg, what d-disease intrigues you m-most?” she asked, with a certain spontaneity. “I-if you allow me t-to ask, of course!” she added right after, almost as a mean of correct herself.

Panacea...in Simon's mind, a dream. A noble one, yes - but was there really a cure-all? If there was, it wouldn't work like anything else he'd seen; not the way he'd seen potions, spells or even muggle cures work. Of course, maybe he was being cynical and assuming that Dark Wizards would always find a way around it...

"In my case, if we're going by diseases..." He mulled this over as he worked, picking up a towel and starting to carefully clean her arm off. Wherever the now blue-tinted salve was wiped away her arm began to warm and feel normal. "Dragonpox. It has a very interesting pattern, and is oh-so-similar to cow and chickenpox...and smallpox, of course."

Her arm was clean; he felt it with his fingers thoughtfully. "Personally, I focus on Spell damage - grievous wounds. The most frustrating thing is the things I can't fix." He smiled slightly; the smile of someone who'd been fighting a long stagnant battle. "I can't replace organs. Sometimes limbs, sight or use of a limb are lost or disabled and beyond my ability to fix...it never feels like a victory when someone's alive but leaves here with their life forever altered for the worse."

He let her arm go. "Where else are you cold, now?"

“The most frustrating thing is the things I can't fix.” She swallowed hard when he said that. Everything he said, actually, made her feel a tad melancholic, as she was able to know exactly how he felt. Not that Una was even close to properly understand all he has been through working for so long at St. Mungo's; but that matter and the way Simon seemed to deal with was somehow touching for her.

“I'm sorry, Healer Greenburg,” she said, as low as a whisper. “Unfortunately we all have limitations, but the fact that you care and give the best of you to your patients ist sehr lobenswert[1]...” she shook her head, smiling with some embarrassment. “It's really... Worthy of praise, sir. Sorry.”

“Still...” Una recovered for the momentary shyness and raised her eyes to look at him. “You can't say that life will be forever worse to those who leaves this hospital with some kind of disability.”   She took a second to breathe. “Sometimes, deal with the loss or deficiency of something they've always taken for granted can be enriching.” One more sigh. “They can develop other abilities they've never dreamed about; they can start to see the world in a whole different way and start to cherish things they've never really noticed before.”

She smiled, but in a taciturn, quite serious way; panting a little. If she were perfect all along she would never be capable of love her family as much as she loved, nor enjoy the simple things, neither find happiness and peace in some silly silly ways. Yes, Una still longed to be normal and still hated her scars. But she could never deny that they brought out her best.

“I'm sorry for the rambling, but I don't think you're responsible for what still doesn't have cure; for what still is impossible. Neither is for the way your patients deal with their lives after you heal them.” Una whispered and lowered her eyes; she has just talked way too much.

When Simon asked about the cold, intrigued she brought her left hand to her face, as if measuring her own temperature. It wasn't normal yet, she could tell, but she wasn't freezing anymore. “I don't know, I... I feel pain all over my body, I'm a little breathless, but I don't feel that kind of cold anymore, sir, I...” she looked down, still a little afraid of being blue somewhere.

1.	is very laudable

Simon's smile was genuine and quick, his professionalism still clinging to his posture and body language. "Thank you, Miss Freher," he said. "I prefer not to let my limits restrain my efforts, though," he added thoughtfully. "The fact they hold me back simply makes me wish to push them further, if you'll forgive the somewhat strained metaphor..."

He cocked his head. "And yet for every one of those who learn from it, someone loses a dream, a job, a talent..." He patted her shoulder. "I understand your meaning. But it still is frustrating to see people suffer over something that should be curable..." He was walking to the end of the bed, reaching for her feet and uncovering them so he could check her toes. Slightly blue.

"I'm aware I can't - and that most don't - do or worry about those things. But I try to keep them in mind. Too many people suffer because their Healers care only about today." It was Simon's greatest annoyance about medicine. "But at the same time, you can't learn without making mistakes, and in many cases you can't heal without doing harm..." That was a mutter.

Her foot was a little blueish in tone and cold - it was better safe than sorry. He moved his little tray to the foot of the bed so he could start the salve work on her feet.

Una remained in a thoughtful silence. Simon was right, she could tell, specially when thinking about those who couldn't manage their conditions. You got blind; you can guide yourself through sounds and smells. You lose your right hand; you can learn to do everything again with the left. You are wounded by a werewolf and turns into one – what was even possible to do?

That was the second day of the Full Moon, Una knew. She also knew that Downer should be trapped on his cell at that moment. And she had absolutely no idea how was that like.

When Simon took off her boots and socks she fixed her stare at the ceiling, feeling a bit uncomfortable, but with no reason as she was aware. “I... I understand you too, Healer Greenburg, I really do. And I'm not telling you're wrong; your effort is truly admirable. But it's not all about thorns all the time... if you can't see the roses too, you loses half of the perspective.”

Una took a deep, long sigh before fall in silence again, while Simon was about to do all that salve operation on her feet. After some moments, she bit her lower lip before muttering, “Actually, I have to admit that there are certain conditions which I cannot see any roses about them, only thorns...”

Simon was clearly being careful not to tickle her, his hands brushing the bottom of her foot in broad strokes, his fingers sliding between her toes quickly as possibly while still doing a through job.

"There are some conditions like that, yes," he said. "And that have no cure, right now - all attempts have failed, as far as I know. Vampirism, Lycanthropy...they may not be life threatening, but they might as well be." His smile was sad, but careful. "March was not a happy time, here. Many, many deaths, incidents..."

He shook his head. Bombay's infection had been very distressing to him - not just for the woman's sake, but it said plenty about the conditions in the hospital.

"It's the social out casting that really gets them, you see. It's rather like muggles and Leprosy - just via its name, in evokes fear, and no one seeks a cure until someone comes along who truly cares. Muggles, at least, have gods to blame - they can claim the person is a sinner and did something to deserve it." A laugh; soft, tinged with bitterness. "Some wizards have that attitude but without the god." Simon himself had to admit to some discomfort; around Vampires, in his case. There was something about the parasitic nature of their condition - it made his skin crawl just as a concept.

No matter how careful he was while massaging her feet, Una was still almost playing dead – body still, eyes scanning the ceiling. But she wasn't really as uncomfortable as she seemed to be. The conversation was making some thoughts flow on her mind, in a serious, absorbed way; so that her body, her pain, and Simon's touches was no more than a detail.

Specially when the mediwizard seemed to read her mind. That made his physical presence much less expressive than the presence he was taking on her mental realm.

Una slightly, almost imperceptibly, shook her head to all he said; not for disagree, on the contrary, she shook because he was sadly right. “At least God must be relieved for not being used as an excuse to all this... shit,” she whispered the last word, unsure if was appropriate, but she just haven't found one that could fit best. “Sorry. It's just wrong, Greenburg, and sad that nowadays this kind of thing still happens. We're still on a Dark Age of mind...” that was her time of laugh with bitterness, but as quick as a moan. “Ignorance should be the final disease. Maybe it's cure could be the Panacea after all.”

“Have you ever studied Lycanhropy, Simon? It isn't curious how the wolf only takes control under the Full Moon?” she asked like a loud thought, so vague and distracted that she doesn't seem to notice that she has just called him by his first name.