RP - Medical Exam and OWL: to Bill Weasley

Aug 29, 2007 11:42

Title: Charlie and the Healer
Date: 08/30/1998
Time of Day: 6 PM
Characters: Charlie Weasley, Bill Weasley
Location: St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
Status: Semi-public
Brief Summary: Charlie just needs a health certificate.
Completion: Complete
Warnings: None


"How long has this been left untreated?" said the Healer, frowning, as she noticed the large bite on Charlie's left arm. The bite was around twenty centimeters long, and consisted of two long, parallel, and very poorly scarred wounds surrounded by large rings of various colours, from turquoise to bright orange.

"Sorry?" Charlie asked, distractedly. He had just been here for a medical examination, in order to get a health certificate for his Ministry Application, and he had not paid much attention to whatever the witch in front of her had been saying or doing - he was just waiting for her to finish her job, give him the paper, and then he could go home.

"When did you get that bite on your arm?" repeated the Healer, patiently enough. She was an old, rather unattractive woman with a bored look in her heavily-lidded eyes. "It was a Runespoor, right?" she said on a reproachful tone. "Do you know how venomous these are, young man?"

"-only the critic's fangs are," replied Charlie with a grin. "This was made by the planner, if I can remember well." And he could, in fact, remember the whole story quite well : he had been in Hungary, trying to contact a group of wizards whom Kingsley had said could perhaps be convinced to help the Order. But the people who had "welcomed" Charlie there had proven to be, in fact, die-hard Dark Arts fanatics. Charlie had been happy to get away with just a bite, albeit from a three-headed Dark Creature. "It's been more than a year, I think, madam," continued Charlie. "I reckon that I'd be dead if it had been the critic."

If the Healer was convinced of the fact that it was as unimportant as Charlie made it sound, then she was doing an amazing job at hiding it. "I will give you a treatment immediately, then I will have to keep you under observation for twenty-four hours."

"You mean I have to stay overnight?"

"Yes, this is what I mean."

"Oh no-no-no... No, I can't do that, Madam. My mum is already worried enough as it is. I really need to go back home, you understand -"

"If I send you home now, your mother will be even more than just worried in a few months, when you drop dead from that untreated poisoning."

"Oh come on, it can't be as bad as Peruvian Vipertooth poison-"

"- have you ever been bitten by a Peruvian Vipertooth??" The Healer exclaimed, her eyes suddenly widening. "Because-" she checked Charlie's file, "-it isn't mentioned anywhere in your file! And if it's the case, then I will have to use another treatment, this one would not-"

"Of course I have never been bitten by any dragon at all!" Charlie assured, laughing nervously. "If I had, then it'd be on my file, right?"

Or it wouldn't, if the Romanian Hospital that had treated him had not had his file at the time any of his three poisonings happened.

"I see," the Healer said, suspiciously. "I hope so, because if you have ever been exposed to Vipertooth poison, then the treatment I am about to give you is likely to make you suffer more than if you were under a Cruciatus curse."

Charlie swallowed. But he had a strong constitution, and since he really needed to go back home as soon as possible, he chose not to mention anything, and just hoped that the Healer was only trying to scare him. "Anyway, that bite's definitely not this terrible, is it? I'm sure you're just being extra-cautious, but I swear, I can definitely go home now. I'll be fine!"

"Twenty-four hours of observation, or there will be no certificate, Mister Weasley," said the old witch, unimpressed.

Charlie shook his head and sighed in defeat. "Alright, alright then. Can I at least write an owl to warn someone?"

The Healer watched him curiously. "This is not prison, young man. You can write as many owls as you like," she said on the same bored tone. "As long as you don't use your left arm, of course," she added matter-of-factly.

"Someone will give you the necessary material while I'm preparing your treatment, " she said. She left to talk to one of the nurses who was in the corridor, who quickly came back with paper, a quill and an owl. "You can borrow one of St Mungo's owls, for ten Knuts," announced the young witch. Charlie nodded and thanked her, handing her the money.

He spent quite a long time debating whom he would write to. He had to warn his parents that he would not come home, but he knew that his mother would worry if she learnt that he was at St Mungo's, even if it was just for a one-year-old wound. No, he had to ask for someone to cover for him. It had to be someone who was not at the Burrow at the moment, because his mum would recognize a St Mungo's owl from a mile and she would worry. This left Charlie with a rather narrow set of people to choose from; he had some good friends who could probably do that job for him, but it would highly look suspicious if they wrote to his mother and not him. No, it had to be someone from the family. Percy would be as worried and obsessive as their mum, and Charlie was not entirely sure he would be too keen on the whole "lying" thing either; George would have been the perfect candidate in the past, but at the moment, he probably had other other things on his mind. Charlie had only one option left: Bill. Though Charlie had always known that he could count on his older brother, he was a bit reluctant to contact him right now. They weren't fifteen anymore, and Bill especially had far more serious things to take care of at the moment than to "save" Charlie from that rather stupid situation.

Charlie had no other choice, however, so he took the quill and started to write:

Bill,

First of all, please, don't freak out because of the St Mungo owl; I'm perfectly fine, and I promise you that I haven't been into any trouble recently. I just need to ask you a big, big favour.

Here is the thing: I was at St Mungo's today to get a check-up because I needed a certificate for the Ministry (I got the job, by the way!), and the Healer I saw was a bit overzealous; I had this old Runespoor's bite and, though I've had it for almost a year I think (I believe it's not the critic that bit me but the planner) she seemed to think I was going to collapse dead in the minute. Anyway, she wants to keep me overnight so she can give me a treatment of sorts; I wouldn't have accepted but I really need that certificate if I want to get that job.

So basically, what I need you to do - and yeah, I know it sounds really stupid, thanks - is to write Mum an owl telling her that I'm at your place for the night, so she doesn't worry about me. I'm sorry to ask you all of this, but I can't exactly write Mum directly - she can recognize a St Mungo's owl from a mile, and I don't want her to worry any more than she already does.

So if you can do that for me, I'd be really, really grateful.

Thanks, man,

Charlie

Sighing, he put the quill back on the table, rolled the letter and attached it to the owl's leg.

The Healer came back a few minutes later with a cauldron and a rather sharp-looking knife, and Charlie shuddered slightly but managed to keep a calm demeanor. It took about thirty minutes for the treatment to be applied. Once all the wounds had been treated and bandages had been applied, a rather pale-looking Charlie was transferred to a room on the hospital's First Floor.

bill weasley, 08/1998, charlie weasley, location: st mungo's hospital

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