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0743 The Treatment
🕑 Added 2025-06-11 12:15:09 +0000 UTCGenerally speaking, within St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries aside from the specialized ward floors that dealt with the most critical and life-threatening emergency patients, which remained brightly lit regardless of the hour, the other floors throughout the massive hospital complex would extinguish their magical lights well before nine o'clock in the evening.
This was designed to create the most optimal and peaceful resting environment possible for the countless patients who lay recovering from various magical illnesses, injuries, and diseases.
However, on this particular evening, the situation was remarkably different from the hospital's usual routine.
The entire fifth floor's Spell Damage ward was absolutely blazing with light. The ward was filled with most of St. Mungo's healers specializing in spell damage treatment flocking here with urgency. Each healer present was the top expert of their respective fields and would get respect and admiration wherever they went.
Yet now, in this moment of excitement and anticipation, these typically dignified expert healers had completely abandoned their usual reserved demeanor and lost their composure.
They were crowding together in the narrow corridor like excited children at a carnival, their faces were showing expressions of excitement, disbelief, and amazement as they pressed forward desperately, each one trying to get themselves closer to one particular ward room that seemed to be the focus point of all this attention and interest.
The legendary healers in the portraits on the walls throughout the hospital showed similar behavior. These mostly elderly, dignified figures were now engaged in what could only be described as fierce combat as they fought with surprising vigor and determination to squeeze into whichever portrait frame offered the best view point closest to the mysterious ward that had captured everyone's attention.
"Simply incredible, absolutely incredible, Albus!" exclaimed a voice filled with wonder and amazement.
When the figure of Dumbledore emerged from the flames of the Floo Network, accompanied by Neville Longbottom, who appeared considerably calmer and more composed than he had been during his frantic departure from Hogwarts, a witch with long, silver curls immediately appeared in the nearest portrait frame.
Her cheeks were trembling with excitement, and her eyes sparkled with the kind of professional enthusiasm that only came from witnessing something truly groundbreaking in the field of magical medicine.
"Complete recovery, not even the slightest trace of anything wrong remaining!" She continued breathlessly, her voice rising with each word as if she could barely believe what she was saying. "I've never seen anything like it in all my years of practice and study—nothing comparable to this exists anywhere in the entire documented history of magical injury treatment! In my opinion, the Order of Merlin should award him another First-Class medal just for this remarkable achievement alone!"
The words 'complete recovery' seemed to echo through the air like a magical incantation, and upon hearing them, Neville's body began to tremble with intense emotions.
However, despite the extraordinary nature of the news being delivered, Dumbledore's expression did not reflect the joy and celebration that one might expect.
His face remained thoughtful and pensive, his eyes were showing concern. He placed one of his gentle hands-on Neville's shoulders half-pushing the younger wizard forward as they began to walk up the hospital's staircase.
Meanwhile, Dilys Derwent, the former Headmistress of Hogwarts whose portrait had been speaking, followed their walk, constantly flickering and appearing between the various portrait frames that were on the walls along their path.
"What does Bryan have to say about all this, Dilys?" Dumbledore inquired in his usual calm and gentle tone.
"Oh, so far he continues to refuse to explain in any detail how he managed to restore that poor Muggle to his normal state of mind!" Dilys complained with obvious frustration between pants, sounding slightly out of breath.
"Just as I said to you earlier, he has barred everyone else from entering the ward and spent the entire afternoon completely alone in that Muggle's room. Then, the Muggle suddenly regained his sanity and clarity of mind. Of course, he's still experiencing a bit of confusion and disorientation, but that's perfectly normal and to be expected—the Cruciatus Curse most certainly caused what we believed to be irreversible damage to his mind. But overall and against all odds, he has recovered his health and cognitive function."
"A Muggle?" Neville's voice had a tone of deep confusion and growing bewilderment as he tried to process this unexpected information. "But wasn't it supposed to be my...?"
Dumbledore glanced at Neville, but he chose not to answer the young man's partially formed question. Instead, he continued his inquiry with Dilys, "Where is Bryan at this moment? Is he still in the Muggle's ward?"
"Oh, excuse me, please make way there!" Dilys called out as she pushed aside another potrait healer who was blocking her path within the portrait frame.
She continued nimbly following behind Dumbledore, who despite being over a hundred years old, moved with surprising energy.
"That's right, he refuses to allow anyone to enter that ward under any circumstances, but he and the Muggle patient have been chatting together like old friends who have known each other for years."
Dumbledore's eyebrows moved subtly, as he keenly sensed something.
"Neville!" came a sudden, delighted cry that pierced through the noise of the busy hospital corridor.
Just as they stepped onto the fifth-floor corridor, this joyful exclamation startled the already bewildered Neville, causing him to shudder involuntarily and blink several times as his eyes struggled to focus on the source of the voice.
When his vision cleared, he saw a familiar figure, a girl dressed in the standard-issue hospital robes that all patients were required to wear, running toward him from the middle of the corridor. She moved with such enthusiasm and speed that her messy, unruly curls were flying wildly in the air behind her like a banner of joy and relief.
"Oh, good evening, Professor Dumbledore!" The girl called out in surprise as she approached.
"Good evening, Miss Granger," Dumbledore replied softly.
Dumbledore's bright blue eyes were particularly piercing as he studied Hermione Granger intently for several seconds. His gaze seemed to take in every detail of her appearance, her demeanor, and her overall condition. Then, apparently satisfied with what he observed, he gave a warm smile.
"Ah, I'm delighted to see that you've recovered not just your health, but your vitality and spirit as well, If you had stayed here in this hospital for another full week, I have no doubt that your friends back at school would probably have stormed into my office in fury and burned off every last whisker of my beard."
Hermione bit her lower lip in a gesture that was both embarrassed and touched by Dumbledore's words. She clearly understood exactly what Dumbledore was implying about.
"I believe you already have a general understanding of the current situation that has brought us all here tonight, Miss Granger," Dumbledore continued in his thoughtful tone, "but Mr. Longbottom is still completely in the dark about what's happening and why he's been summoned here so urgently. Perhaps while the two of you catch up on recent events, you could help him solve his doubts and answer the questions that must be troubling him."
"What about you, Professor?" Hermione asked with respectful curiosity. "Will you be joining us, or do you have other matters to attend to?"
"Oh, Professor Watson has sent word that he would very much like to discuss the specific details of the treatment plan with me personally before proceeding with any attempts to treat Mr. Longbottom's parents,"
Dumbledore explained, his expression becoming more serious. "He believes he might need my assistance."
Dumbledore's smile returned as he finished speaking, and he then began the process of greeting the various healers who had noticed his arrival and were eager to speak with him about the events of the day.
Within moments, he was quickly becoming surrounded by an excited crowd of medical professionals, all of whom were eager to share their observations and seek his wisdom regarding the unprecedented situation they were witnessing.
"Come on, Neville, let's go to my ward," Hermione said with obvious happiness and enthusiasm, reaching out to tug gently at Neville's sleeve. "Your mother actually gave me a Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper and asked me to make sure I give it to you when I return to school. I can get it for you right now if you'd like... Neville?"
Hermione pulled at Neville's sleeve with the clear intention of leading him toward her ward, away from the corridor that had become terribly noisy with the excited chatter of healers, the movement of hospital staff, and the general commotion.
However, when she took a step forward and expected him to follow, she felt an unexpected resistance, as if he had suddenly become rooted to the spot.
Turning back with an expression of confusion and growing concern, she saw that Neville was standing completely motionless in place, his cheeks were now flushed a purple-red color. His demeanor showed someone who looked as guilty as if he had been caught in the act of stealing something precious, his eyes were unable to meet hers directly.
"You... you know about my father and mother, Hermione—" Neville said in a voice so weak and defeated that it seemed as if his spine had been completely removed, leaving him without the strength to stand upright with any kind of dignity or confidence.
"Come on, Neville—" Hermione began, but her voice trailed off as she truly looked at him and saw the depth of his distress.
Looking at the thoroughly embarrassed and emotionally vulnerable Neville standing in front of her, Hermione pressed her lips together, and her expression softened with understanding and compassion.
She knew what Neville was worried about, what he feared most deeply—the possibility that she might pity him, judge him, or see him differently now that she knew about his family's tragic circumstances.
Her heart felt heavy with the pain and the understanding of how difficult this moment must be for him.
"I'll tell you everything about what Professor Watson has done," She said gently. "I promise you, Neville, everything is going to be alright. More than alright—it's going to be wonderful."
Standing guard in front of the ward that had become the center of all attention were two familiar figures: Sirius and Tonks. Mrs. Longbottom had been present earlier too, but she had to return to care for her son and daughter-in-law.
Sirius had his face pressed against the small square glass pane that was set into the door, staring intently into the room. He was so absorbed that he didn't notice Dumbledore's approach until Tonks tapped him on the shoulder to bring his attention back.
"Dumbledore..." Sirius began, his voice carrying a mixture of excitement and concern.
Dumbledore raised his hand, stopping Sirius, who had opened his mouth and was clearly about to speak, probably to share his observations or ask urgent questions about the situation.
At almost the same moment, Bryan inside the ward seemed to sense the presence of visitors. He stood up from his position near the patient's bedside and walked over to the door to turn the door handle.
"Please wait just a moment, everyone," Bryan said as he opened the door. "I still need to continue observing the patient closely to ensure that his condition remains stable and that there are no unexpected complications or relapses."
Bryan's smile was gentle as he addressed the healers whose eyes were filled with longing and desperate curiosity. He then stepped aside to welcome Dumbledore into the ward.
Looking at the Muggle patient who was now sitting up in bed, leaning against pillows that had been arranged to support him properly, his eyes bright and alert with intelligence and awareness, Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in an expression of genuine surprise and amazement.
Only now, seeing the evidence with his own eyes rather than simply hearing reports from others, did he truly confirm that those reports from others wasn't exaggeration—Bryan had genuinely and completely healed a Muggle whose mind had been destroyed by the Cruciatus Curse.
"You have undoubtedly achieved another miracle, Bryan—" Dumbledore said, his voice carrying a tone of slight wonder mixed with sincere admiration for what he was witnessing.
"Whether what I've accomplished truly is a miracle remains to be seen, Headmaster Dumbledore," Bryan responded thoughtfully. "But you don't need to feel compelled to give false praise or encouragement—you certainly know better than anyone that this situation isn't nearly as simple or straightforward as it might appear to others."
Bryan spoke quickly and quietly, ensuring that his words remained private between himself and Dumbledore, then turned and beamed with genuine warmth as he looked toward the bed.
"Allow me to introduce you properly, Gitte," Bryan said, his voice shifting to a cheerful, warm tone. "This is Mr. Albus Dumbledore—he serves as the director of this hospital, and my recent achievements in treating your condition are largely thanks to his 'guidance' and support. Having heard the wonderful news that I've been able to cure your illness, he has come here to see you and conduct a thorough examination to ensure your recovery."
"Ah!" the patient exclaimed with surprise and concern.
The fact that this distinguished gentleman was the hospital director was clearly significant information to the patient, as such a position undoubtedly represented an important figure.
Moreover, this director had apparently shown particular kindness and support to Bryan. Feeling overwhelmed by the honor of such a visit, the patient scrambled to get out of bed in a panic, but Dumbledore quickly and gently stopped him with a raised hand.
"You should remain resting comfortably in bed for now," Dumbledore said gently. "May I have your permission to call you Gitte?"
"Oh, of course, Mr. Dumbledore! Please, feel free to call me whatever you prefer!" Gitte replied with a nervous but genuine smile.
The robes that this Mr. Dumbledore wore seemed rather strange and unusual to Gitte's eyes, unlike anything he had encountered in his previous limited experience with medical professionals.
Furthermore, the unique and almost mystical aura that surrounded this elderly man, who appeared to be quite older than himself, created a sense of awe and intimidation that reminded him of the occasionally visiting government officials who would come to inspect the orphanage.
"I must take this opportunity to express my sincere gratitude to you for guiding and training Bryan so excellently, Mr. Dumbledore," Gitte said, swallowing nervously as he looked at the smiling Bryan with joy.
"Your guidance has clearly made him into such a remarkably skilled and accomplished doctor—if Ferrena were still alive to see this, she would be absolutely overjoyed and filled with pride to know of his achievements."
"His achievements and the skills he has developed come from his own efforts, hard work, and natural talent, Gitte," Dumbledore replied, playing along perfectly with the constructed scenario while his blue eyes flickered with strange, unreadable light.
"Now, if you don't mind," Dumbledore continued in his most reassuring tone, "I need to conduct an examination of your current condition to ensure your recovery. I'll need you to close your eyes and try to relax as much as possible during the process."
Gitte glanced questioningly at Bryan. Only after seeing Bryan nod his head in clear approval and encouragement did Gitte lie back down with genuine peace of mind.
The moment Gitte's eyes closed and his breathing indicated complete relaxation, Dumbledore promptly and smoothly flicked his wrist, causing a subtle but powerful sleeping spell to take effect. This made 'Gitte' immediately fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.
Bryan quickly moved to make the transparent glass pane on the door completely opaque, preventing anyone outside from observing what was happening within the ward, then cast additional spells to isolate all sound within the room, ensuring that their upcoming discussion would remain completely private and confidential.
The moment these privacy measures were in place, Dumbledore's pleasant, reassuring smile finally disappeared, as he looked at Bryan, his expression became very solemn.
"You completely erased all of the memories of this Muggle named Onesto Pastore, didn't you, Bryan?"
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