Ernie MacMillan

It may be silly of me, but I’m concerned about Narcissa Malfoy. I took an ad in The Daily Prophet’s Society Page—

Victoria Worthington-Smythe,
Do you need to see me again?
Confidentially Yours,

E.M.



When I got my copy of the paper, I took my fountain pen and circled the ad. I tied the paper to Noden’s talons and told him to where to deliver it.

I received an owl a few minutes after Noden returned. EM : I will be there this afternoon. Victoria.

Well I asked for it, it will be interesting to see her again.

Three hours later, the receptionist leads Narcissa Malfoy to an examining room. "Mrs. Malfoy to see you about a follow-up on her injuries, MacMillan."

"Right this way Madam Malfoy," I say as I lead her to an exam room. "Would you like some tea, or perhaps a hot chocolate?"

"Green tea with ginger if it is available,” she answers stiffly.

I call out for a house-elf and ask for the tea. A few minutes later, the tea is delivered. I pour her a cup and hand it to her.

“Thank you. Ginger settles my stomach." She takes a long sip, then sighs, relaxing her shoulders just a fraction. "You needed to see me." She looks up expectantly.

“I wanted to know if you had made your mind up on the matter we discussed the last time we were together,” I ask.

"I am keeping the pregnancy, and the baby. But I will probably disappear from the public eye once I start to show, and then put out the story I adopted her after she is born." She looks miserable, not joyous as she says this. "Is that all you wanted to hear?"

"Shall we have totally honest between us?" I ask.

"Yes,” she says quietly.

“Yes I wanted to know what you had to say. I have sworn an oath to help those in need of my craft. I had the need of verifying your health with my own eyes. When we discussed your options, I saw a person in the need of a confidant and wee lass in the need of a healer. I just wish it could be me, but I’m still a trainee. I’ve compiled a list of fully qualified healers for you to choose from.”

"I am not going to a healer. My condition cannot be known. You can give me what help you will. I will read up on it in the best books. I will brew whatever potions you say I should brew. But I am not seeing any other healer about this. I cannot let this get out,” she tells me firmly.

“Fine, I say, shall we discuss terms then?”

“Yes,” she says.

“I wish to make sure we understand each other so there can be no chance of misunderstanding. You are asking me to be your healer?”

She hesitates. "For now . . . I mean, well, yes.”

“I will keep quiet on all aspects of our conversations. I will need to take records because I see hundreds of patients a month and no one’s memory is infallible. We are dealing with something infinitely precious, there can be no room for error. We will seal the records with a blood seal using both yours and my blood to decipher them. You will keep the records. I can treat my patient and the mother from conception to birth, barring there are no major complications. If the lass is in life-threatening distress and I have no idea how to treat her or you, I must have the option of bringing in an associate. If you have a safe place for us to meet, we can have further contact there, so there can be no prying eyes in your comings and goings at St. Mungo’s.”

"You can come to the Manor. But, you need to understand--I am going into hiding before the end. Even if I hide in the manor, I will not be letting anyone know I am there. I am planning on disappearing for the last trimester. So prepare me to do this myself--and that is the best treatment you can give me."

"I have house elves--including the two who helped when I had Draco. They watched the Doula closely and assisted her,” she explains. "But I will try to find a doula to be there if I can,” she adds hastily.

“The only thing I ask of you then, by all that you find precious, is to talk with your assistants and tell them today. It is very important, you will really never know when a bairn will want to see the sun’s light after the seventh month.”

"I will. Will you give me the information I need to prepare them? Perhaps a manual for emergency magial childbirth?" she asks. "Just in case I do not have a doula available."

“I can have a pamphlet for travel restrictions as the pregnancy progresses now.”

“Do you have any other concerns we need to discuss today?” I ask.

"Just getting the nausea under control. The potion you wrote me probably works well--but I could not keep it down long enough to find out." She says.

“I’ve been concerned about your weight loss. I’ve done some very discreet inquiries and I haven’t found anything on the potions you were dosed; the severe morning sickness maybe a side effect of the potion.”

"When you were a lass and feeling ill, did your Mum make anything special for you?" I ask.

"Peppermint tea, but it never seemed to work. The ginger snaps and ginger tea the elves made me always helped more."

"Only tea and biscuits? Did you have a special meal?”

She looks at me with obvious confusion. "Special meal?"

"When I was little, my mum would make me beef broth with a bit of barley in it when I was ill and it seemed to stay down and I enjoyed it. I know being ill and morning sickness isn't the same, but the mind and the body forms connections. It is one of the best medicines one can use at times."

"I was hardly ever ill. When I was, Mum made me peppermint tea. That was all."

"I do have favourite foods . . . shrimp, asparagus soup, dark chocolate--but honestly, none of them stay down right now. Dry bread and fresh fruit work. Oh, and I did have some ice cream last week." She smiles like a little girl with her hand in the biscuit jar.

“Did the ice cream stay down as it should?” I ask.

"Yes, but I had it just before bed,” she replies, still looking guilty.

“Right now, the most important things are to keep liquids and nutrition in your body. If you would excuse me a moment?" I say.

A few minutes later, I walk into the room with a scoop of icecream and a phial of dark colored potion.

As I hand her the scoop of ice cream, "This is a scoop of Fortescue's ice cream infused with Gingersnaps. In the phial, it is the nutritional potion in dark chocolate flavor. If you would try a few small bites and sips of the potion, who knows maybe a bit of ice cream to prime your stomach might be all that it needs?" I say.

She smiles softly. She doesn't look nearly so intimidating when she smiles. She takes the dish of ice cream from me. "Thank you, Mr. MacMillan."

“You are very welcome, Madam. Healing comes from all places. Sometimes it starts with a small dish of ice cream or even a smile,” I say.

She finally realizes that I expect her to eat it in front of me and looks at me with a touch of exasperation, but relents and takes a bite. "Gingersnap icecream." She lets the soft smile come to her lips again. She takes another bite, then has a small sip of the potion.

After a few moments, I have to ask the question, “Does it seem to settle well?”

She's only had those two bites. She's proceeding very cautiously. "For now, thank you."

“You are very welcome. Take your time and finish enough to get at least half of the potion down please. If you wish to talk as you eat, I’ll be happy to converse. If not, I can fill out some of the paperwork on my other patients.

“Oh yes!” I open a drawer of my desk handing her a pamphlet about travel restrictions during the trimesters of pregnancy.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a prepared pamphlet about emergency births now. I still would wish you’d call me when the time comes. I want to see my patient take her first breaths, but I understand your reasons,’ I say.


“All right, I’d have blood replenishing potions on hand. Sterile cloths, a bulb syringe to clear the airway, a good book on home delivery is ‘So You’re Going to Have a Baby’ by U.R. Crowning. That gives good step-by-step directions to assist someone during a birth. Any thing more, and a Healer would be needed.”

"Is the blood replenishing potion you use like the one we learned in NEWT potions class? Or do you have a better one?" she asks.

I pull the HPDR and a Potion’s text comparing the recipes. “There are a few differences. The one in the text is for smaller blood loss to major in a hospital setting. If you were to take two, you’d equal one in the hospital.”

She glances at the travel restrictions . . . "I cannot Apparate starting Next month? And no Portkeying in the third trimester?" Her face looks pained.

"Madam, are you alright? May I assist you with something?" I ask

"I am just wondering how I can travel late in the pregnancy if I need to . . . especially to a place not connected by floo."

“The only method I can think of is by broom, unless you go by ship or auto. I traveled by auto once, it works but it is very slow.”

"Is it safe to fly when one is heavily pregnant?" she asks, astonished.

“As far as the healers here have found that it is perfectly safe, though a custom broom may need to be made to accomplish the goal. Since I am male, I would have no idea on the comfort part of flying, “ I say.

"Mine is a custom broom. It has all the comfort and safety features. So I will use it if I need to go, somewhere that last trimester." Her voice falters for an instant, belying the confidence in her tone and posture.

I can feel myself beginning to turn red."Forgive my bluntness, I was thinking of the length of the broom rather than the charms on it. Some women, even though they lose most of the weight during birth, their stomachs may be very large in the last trimester, and they might not be able to see or reach the stick in front of them." I say.

"You do note that I am tall, MacMillan? I did not even show with Draco until I was six months along. My stomach will get larger, but not that large." She looks offended.

“My apologies, Madam. I am still learning my craft, but one thing I do know is that all pregnancies are as different as snowflakes. They change from child to child.”

"But the fact that I am tall and have a long waist has not changed." She looks at me with more than a hint of disdain.

“My apologies again; I wasn’t talking about yourself; I was speaking in generalities,” I say while my face is reddens.

"If you wish me to retain you as my daughter's healer after she is born, you will have to become more intelligent in how you speak to people, MacMillan." All her previous friendliness and that hint of a smile is gone.

“Madam, I am very competent to deal with anything that goes wrong and I’d still like to be your daughter’s healer. But dealing with her Mum does provide challenges for me that no other patient may give me. There is the formality of a Healer needing to a lady of your station. You have grown up to expect certain treatment. While I can and will provide it as I have been taught, with you being of my Mum’s generation provides other challenges. Sometimes, I feel I’m in classes learning my ciphering tables as a child when I sit before you.”

She totally surprises me and laughs. Laughs! "I regret I make you uncomfortable. If we are to have a working relationship, MacMillan, maybe you had best start by calling me Mrs. Malfoy, rather than Madam. There is less distance between us that way." She adds this after her laughter stops. But the corners of her mouth threaten to begin laughing again, despite her renewed formality.

“Would you take a few more bites of your ice cream please?” I ask.

She glances at the dish in her hand. She really has not made much of a dent in it. She dips her spoon in, and raises it to me in a sort of toast, then puts the bite in her mouth. Two bites later she takes another sip of the potion.

I see color returning to her face. With a smirk, I reach over and grab my stack of prescription blanks and begin to write furiously.

I hand her the prescription.

Take a four-ounce scoop of ginger snap infused ice cream as needed. Take it with either your potion or food other than toast. Discontinue the ice cream once morning sickness symptoms have abated.

E. MacMillan Healer-Trainee

“I know you may be concerned about your weight. Although, with you having morning sickness, keeping nutrition in your system is much more important now.”

She returns my smirk with one of her own. "I will get this filled at Fortescue's right away then."

I step forward and mutter a few diagnostic spells. They tell me that she is very healthy and will continue to thrive once the mild dehydration from the morning sickness is taken care of.

I look at her and say, “You and your lass are progressing nicely. Once you take your medicine," as I tap the prescription in her hand, "Any discomfort you may feel should be eliminated. I don’t think we’d need to see each other till next month unless your symptoms change. Do you have any questions?”

“No. I will come back next month then. Thank you." She pulls out a bag of galleons and hands it to me. "For the charity of your choice."

“"MacMillan? Would you prefer to come to my home the next time we meet?” she asks.

“That would probably be for the best. People may talk if they see you come here monthly and there is no record of your visit anywhere, Mrs. Malfoy.”

She writes something on a piece of paper. "Here are the Apparition coordinants to the Manor. It is unplottable, so do not share this information with anyone. I will expect you in one month's time." She hands me the paper.

“Thank you Mrs. Malfoy, I will be there.”

She leaves the room gracefully, leaving the remainder of her ice cream behind in the dish.