Ernie MacMillan

26 AND COUNTING

2007-12-29T16:16:33Z

December 29, 1999

During the last 9 days, I've brought into the world fifteen little witches and eleven little wizards. I delight at seeing the baby's eyes seem to begin to focus for the first time.

I was working on bringing wizard number 9 into the light I recieved the message over the delivery room's loudspeaker; "Lucky, your beautiful Witch left us some chocolate covered fruit in the breakroom!" I really didn't need to hear that, Here I am with a cutting beam coming out of my wand and I'm making incisions to do a cesarian.

I remember the last time the Puffgirl's Night Out where they delivered my box at the hospital. It's very dangerous to get inbetween a Medi-Witch and her chocolate...I had lots of friends that night in between rounds the box emptied, but I enjoyed the chocolate scented cardboard. While I am the biggest fan of chocolate in the world, the sight of the Witch in the bunny slippers makes my heart race.

After the bairn was safe in the nursery and his mum was in her room recovering, I went to the break rom and found out that I had my own box waiting on me and my co-workers. I feel so contented that she’s in my life and that she does something special for me and my friends and colleagues.

By the time I finished my paperwork, I was on the job 16 hours. It was time to go home. I just had my own floo connection put to my fireplace in my suite. I gathered Noden into his traveling cage and walked to the floo center and toss some powder and I call out “Piper’s Roost!”

I love having my own floo connection. I can walk in and let Noden out of his cage and collapse on my bed and die for a few hours. Paul usually wakes me up in six hours or I get a rude awakening from Brio requesting attention. The only problem I have with it, I can get called in at all hours of the day and night easier.

0515 Hrs, I hear the whoosh of green flames coming out of my grate. “MacMillan, Madam Winkler just came in and we need you at St. Mungo’s as soon as possible!” I roll out of bed and wrap a dressing gown and seal it and glance down at the Medi-Witch in training and say, “I’ll be there after I have a shower—I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” “Come on lass,” I say as I scoop up Brio and take her to loo as I get ready.

0528-I’m dressed in my Healer’s green robes and I walk into the sitting room. Here is my Brio levitating the cat basket towards the fireplace. It was so cute. “Brio, lass. I can’t take you to Susan’s, she won’t be there till 7.” She gave me such a look then turns around and walks away with her tail in the air. I just wonder what condition my rooms will be in when I get back.

I load Noden into his cage because having a owl as personable as he is becomes very handy. Just as I threw the floo powder into the grate, and Noden and I step in, I see Brio hiss at me, from experience, a warning sign.

February and March-Un Momento Per Amore?

2007-12-21T02:40:05Z

Good news--The Council released my spell for unrestricted use. If Healers invented a spell they'd hold seminars and show the groups just how to use it properly.

The Bad News-I'm a Healer-Trainee, so the last two days, I feel like I've been accio'ed across the country many times. A respected Healer needs something done, they send for a Trainee. I've seen the wonders of 8 manor houses of the ancient families and the children yet to see the light of day and many different variations on bringing children into the world.

Before I go to take a nap, I write this note to Susan.

I just wonder what will come first, someone needing my help or time to dream a little dream.

From the Diary of Ernie MacMillan

2007-12-17T05:22:40Z

I used to delight in going to work. Seeing my mums and bairns grow always made my days fly by faster than a seeker on a Firebolt. Now I'm in the middle of my surgical program and thank Merlin that it will end 1 February.

Starting in July I'm in the final year of my training, I'll get to see my bairns everyday as I work, learning the ins and outs of pediatrics.

Today, I look forward to 7 a.m. and 6 p.m.; five days a week, I get to see the witches in my life. One has the eyes that sparkle that all the stars in the heavens would pale against. The other has four legs black fur and tends to meow a lot. I swear they plot with each other to make my life interesting and worth living.

I'd only make one change in them if I could, but that change is still years away…I’ll gird my loins for the most titanic battle of my life; one I couldn’t bear to lose. Preparations are never for naught.

We’ve dated like two muggle university students, in many ways that is what I am, a student. But I am also a son of an ancient family; I want to court a daughter of an ancient family, I just don’t want to involve my parents or hers, I just want to tell her how I feel.

When we dined out, there was no repetition of her choices of meals that I can remember. I chose to observe her eyes and smile and what she said. So for my party, I’ll have to indulge my Slytherin side.

I’ll set up a shelter on top of Mount Stuart on the Isle of Bute, a sacred place to the MacMillans. Here was the site that Argus Ian MacMillan attacked English shipping as it was sailing towards Glasgow using his wand in 1650.

I’ll have my Paul talk to her Calla and get her likes and dislikes and recipes. I’d like to cook them for her myself, but that just isn’t possible. Every time I mention cooking, he says, “Youngest Master Ernie, I teached you to make a sandwich, right? That’s all my youngest master needs. Anything else, you call for Paul.”

Paul is a formidable little being, plus it is his kitchen so I do what he says. I just hope Paul would help me keep the food hot in the shelter—if he would let us, we’ll serve ourselves. I just wonder how formal I should make this? I don’t want to wear what I think of as MacMillanware, but for Susan, I’d wear the drafty kilt everyday for the rest of my life if it made her happy.

I’ll think on the situation more to refine my words so I can say what I need to say without saying it outright so there could be no misunderstanding, and hope that there will be no hurt feelings.

Till the night where ever I get to hold her under the starlight, my heart will remain in Diagon Alley while I dwell and learn in St. Mungo’s.

Intro to Surgery

2007-11-21T02:51:14Z

11-18-99

I just don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. I can’t move as easily as I could before. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I see a few gray hairs in my head—They shouldn’t be there, I’m only 19! Paul has even given me a old oaken walking stick to guide my steps.

Healer Pye calls me into his office. “MacMillan, I called you in to because I know you aren’t a wizarding supremacist. I was impressed with your adaptation of the Muggle sonogram.

“The next question I have, is how do you feel about squibs?”

I sit there thinking for a moment. I don’t know of any in my own family. The only one that comes to mind is Mr. Filch from Hogwarts. “Well sir, the only squib that I know of is Mr. Filch. With his personality, I didn’t like him much; not because he wasn’t that he wasn’t a wizard, just a unkind man,” I say.

“I am telling you a secret that not many people know. The one aspect of Wizarding society that crosses the magical/Muggle line most often is medical field. You have an opportunity to participate in a Muggle surgery.
We don’t have to worry about the Statute of Secrecy because three out of the five doctors are squibs. The rest of the surgical staff for this operation and the patient is relatives of Muggleborns. The patient is a 35 year old woman. As you know a pregnant mum and her child are an symbiotic organism. While the baby’s life is dependent on the mum’s health, the health of the baby can also affect the mum’s. The initial diagnosis is that the baby’s system is causing the mum’s systems to shut down. They have two options, treat the baby in utero, or abort the child. The mum feels that the child needs every opportunity to survive." He scrutinizes me carefully.

“Oi, MacMillan if you accept this challenge, grow a bit of a beard. Will you join me in two days time?” Healer Pye asks.

I feel my face pale and I say, “Yes, sir.”

11-20-99
Two days later, I report to Healer Pye. He explains to me that I will be the one that observes the baby. I am to make the initial diagnosis, but I can only cast two spells so that magic won’t affect the machinery, but I can use potions to treat the child since that works internally instead of environmentally.

Pye looks at my beard, “I wish it was a bit thicker. With a few passes of Pye’s wand it is. You can pass for a Muggle doctor now.

No need to go into the minutiae of the operation; compared to the magical ones I witnessed and assisted in, it's barbaric and very bloody. I will always remember one part of this operation. It is when the doctor opens up the uterus to remove the bairn for examination.

An arm reaches through the incision and grasps my finger. I feel as if I know what I am searching for. She has tiniest of fingernails and a few wisps of hairs beginning to grow on her head. When she is fully removed, she lays fully in the palm of my hand. After Healer Pye, the doctors, and I treat the wee lass, she is placed back into her mum and wound sealed.

The prognosis is good. I hope to witness the lass’ birth in four months time to see what changes happened as she grows.

I’ve come to one conclusion. While knowing how to do magical surgery is a useful emergency skill, I don’t want to do it often. It just doesn’t feel right to me but I’ll finish the program to get the knowledge.

Over the next couple of days, I've got to tell Susan and Hannah the miracle I've seen.

Dream Journal of Ernie MacMillan

2007-11-18T02:13:16Z

I laid down and in the middle of the night, I awoke. I swear I heard the shutters of my window slam against the wall. I arose to go to the window and fixed the shutters closed. Then I hear the voice I know I will remember forever. It sounded like a blade scraping across a whetstone, “Greetings young healer. I have come for negotiations.”

I saw the one that spoke to me. He had a black cloak with a hood covering his head. I turned my head to see his face and saw nothing but shadow. I looked hurriedly for my wand and I couldn’t find it. I took a huge breath to yell for Paul our house-elf to raise the Schloss’ defenders.

The being raised his skeletal hand, “Save thy breath, oh follower of my nemesis, no one but you can see or hear me.” He points to my bed, “Observe!” He pointed and I saw my body sleeping soundly in the bed.

He looked deeply at me. He said, “ I see my nemesis’ influence as well as your reverence for Brigantia and Math Mathonwy.”

I looked at him strangely. I just wonder the manner of demonic beast I looked at.

He said, “I know you know whom I am. I’ve heard you curse my name on more than one occasion. For seven years you gave your allegiance to Math Mahonwy. Today Brigantia and a lass in London hold your heart’s sway.”

“I’ve come to make a bargain: one that would be costly, but very valuable, to one of your leaning.

“Anytime your skill seems to falter, call out my name and your patient will survive; for a price. If you want the patient to survive and thrive, the price will be greater to your soul.

“For I am Balor, the God of Death of yore. The name your parents have given you is Earnest MacMillan. The name you have chosen for yourself and is being etched on your soul. Tell me in the name you’ve signed countless times, Noden’s Wizard, what is your choice in our bargain?”

I sit down heavily on the side of my bed. Bloody Hell! Why did he come to see me? I’ve never cursed Balor himself, just Death saying I won’t let you have my patient.

My great-great-grandfather did teach me the legends of the old gods and goddesses. He said, “Few if any worship them anymore and just a few more than that know their names. Knowing these things Ernie, shows us ourselves for we have been walking the highlands since the ancient gods, now spirits of magic walked here themselves.”

I can’t believe one such as he throwing the names of Math Mathonwy., the god of sorcery, Brigantia, the goddess of birth and midwifery, and finally Noden the god of healing as easy as I would Justin, Hannah, or Susan.

“Name your terms, milord Balor”, I say.

“You are fated for almost ten score of years, young healer. Every time you call on my name to insure a patient’s survival, it would cost you naught but five of them.”

While I still couldn’t see his face, I knew he was smiling.

“For your patient’s survival and where they will thrive—I will take something from you, that you will know at the end of your days. It may be love, or a life yet to come that you will never see.

“Think my bargain over and answer me in a fortnight when I come again,” he said.

I awoke at 5 a.m. with my heart pounding in my chest, sure it was but a dream.

Even though I still have almost thirty-six hours left of my day off, I sat and filled out the application to the surgical program and signed and dated it.

“Noden.” I called.

Noden fliew over to my desk and held out his foot. I attached the application to his talon and said, “Take it to Healer Pye, please Lad.”

He looked at me reproachfully and hooted at me for a few second as if saying, “My perch has been empty for too long. We see him at work, why isn’t this letter to Susan and Harmony?” With a final disdainful hoot as if saying, “Fool” he took wing and flew towards St. Mungo’s.

A Manor Call

2007-11-08T17:38:45Z

I've finally seen the sun. I've talked to Healers Hollingsworth and Pye to let me have at least one and a half days off a week. For reasons of morale if nothing else, plus I have an family emergency on the 11th.

I'm sitting in the study room, and the pretty owl I know as Perseus flies through the window and lands on the table before me. She holds out her talon and I take the note. I give her a couple of owl treats and direct her towards the water and the company perch next to Noden.

Dear Healer MacMillan,

It is time. The seal will portkey you to the outer gate. I will meet you there. The wards have been changed so you will not be able to get into the property without me letting you in. Be prepared.

Sincerely,

Victoria

I step into the washroom and freshen my shave. I write a quick inter-departmental memo to Healer Hollingsworth saying I will be out of the hospital on a professional matter for three to four hours. After packing my black bag, I break the seal of the portkey and feel the pulling behind my navel. I end up standing before the gates of Malfoy Manor awaiting Mrs. Malfoy.

She is there moments later, coming to the great wrought iron gates from behind the yew hedges. White peacocks strut through the yard. "Who are you, and what are your two major goals in life?"

"I am Ernest MacMillan. My major goal is to remove the dreaded trainee off of my title. My pipes are keyed in double B-flat. I prescribed you ginger snap-infused ice cream in addition to a nutritional supplement."

She opens the gate and lets me in. She leads me through the colonnade to the front of the manor. It's quite a walk.

Every time I see the grounds, it amazes me. I don't think I've seen such opulence in an outdoor setting. The grounds of my home are almost as large, but the decorations seem more practical.

"The wards were changed, so you will have to meet me at the gate and allow me to let you in from now on. I hope you do not mind." She leads me through the gardens to the front door. A house elf lets us in. Mrs. Malfoy catches her breath, holding the side of her stomach a moment. "Do you want to go to the library again, or would another room work better for you?"

"The library will be more than acceptable." I say.

"Being escorted in will be fine, thank you. Do your house-elves have the ability to guide me in if you are unable to do so?" I ask.

Noticing her holding her side, "Mrs. Malfoy, are you in pain?"

"The elves can escort you if I so order it." She moves her hand from her stomach. "It was nothing. Just the walk."

Once we get to the library, I glance at her writing table. "How does the quest to chronicle Morgana's life, go?"

"I am making good progress, thank you."

I sit down and review her chart to refresh the details to my memory. "Have you had any physical changes you need to tell me about before I start my examination? Has the morning sickness abated any? Have you developed any non traditonal symptoms since our last meeting?"

"The morning sickness is still severe when it hits, but a bit less frequent. I am still tired and get dizzy if I do not rest enough. The only physical change, other than starting to protrude below my navel, is that I started feeling her move. Not a lot--just like little gas bubbles moving through me, but I can feel her now." She smiles warmly. "I think I may even have started to look forward to this. I was only tolerating my situation before, but now that I know there is a real little witch in there . . ."

"May I start my examination now, Mrs. Malfoy? Would you like me to start with yourself or the wee lass?" I ask.

Baby's first," she says quietly.

I take my wand and begin my diagnostic spells of the baby. Every time I interpret what the spells tell me, I get a tingle down my spine. I think I can almost hear the whispers of the beginnings of this young witch's personality and life. "Lass, I whisper, tell me your story...." When I raise my head again, I write down in the chart the results of my spellwork. "Mrs. Malfoy, your lass is doing wonderful. She has grown exponentially almost doubling in size since the last time we met. Her heart beats 135 times per minute, and I can tell she will be very active over the next few weeks. I see a chaser in your future, very active indeed."

Mrs. Malfoy just smiles. She really does look happier about this pregnancy than I've noticed before. "She will be a brave one then. Slytherin witches seldom make the team. Slytherin house has traditionally put brawn over beauty and brains on its quidditch teams. I did not make the team, even though I tried out for seeker--once. I did not try it again."

I'll keep quiet about the Slytherin House values and begin to do the exam on Mrs. Malfoy.

I stand and begin my visual exam. I notice that the white hairs that were in her head are missing from view now. Vanity is thy name, Narcissa?

I can't tell if the she's sleeping better or found a different glamour to hide the light circles under her eyes.

I begin the diagnostic spells on Mrs.Malfoy. Her electrolytes are close to normal for a Mum of 17 1/2 weeks gestation. Her blood pressure is slightly elevated at the high end of the normal spectrum; her temperature and heartbeat and respiration all are in the normal range.

" Mrs. Malfoy, your electrolyte balance is close to normal. Everything is in the normal range. The spells tell me you are feeling much better, is this the case?"

"Mostly. I'm healthier than I was. I still get sick, but not as frequently. I like feeling Venus dancing in there. For now. I know it will get uncomfortable in a few months. And I'm trying not to spend more than eight hours a day on my book."

"Excellent, I know how important your book is to you. Rest is important as well as we discussed in the past. I do have two other concerns though. With you spending so much time working on your book, you may be neglecting exercise. You are going to go through a very intensive physical experience in twenty-three weeks. Then the health benefits of sun and fresh air do wonders," I say.

"I will not cut back on my hours on the book. I must finish it before Christmas. I will find a way to walk through the gardens now and then, but I am not about to sacrifice my time writing," her eyes narrow, and the blue in them deepens to the color of the midnight sky.

Why the Christmas deadline? Then the iris color change. I must remember to do some research about color changes of the eyes. "Can you share with me about the Christmas deadline?" I ask.

"I have to. That is all. I made a promise." She sets her jaw stubbornly.

"Who did you make the promise to?" I ask.

"My subject," she says solemnly.

"She is a powerful witch. She came to you? Must you complete your task alone?"

She sighs reluctantly. "In nightmares. Frequently. I made a deal with her. She lets me sleep without nightmares, and I get her book finished before Christmas. She's very anxious that her book be completed before Bella kills me." She says this without smiling, but without looking alarmed, just pragmatically.

I look at her as if she has grown an extra head. "I've heard of spirits of the departed and magic in general visiting people. But warning of your demise and being murdered by your sister, plus the nightmares makes me shudder. Can't she do more than just stop the nightmares?"

"She has warned me. I know what to watch for. I've strengthened the wards. What else should she do? She has wanted this book written for a long time. She finally found the person with the interest in her and, forgive me, the intelligence to get the book written. She does not want Bellatrix to thwart that." How can she say that so calmly?

"Is she going to give you a champion? There is so much in your life that requires your attention either directly or indirectly. I don't know how you handle the extra stress and worry."

She laughs ironically. "MacMillan, I am not defenseless. And I have help. Bill Weasley reinforced the wards. Other people--my sister Andromeda for instance--have agreed to help me."

I mumble, "Perhaps, you have more help than you know."

Mrs. Malfoy puts her hand on my shoulder. "I am touched. Thank you, MacMillan." Her words are warm, but the edge to them is condescending. She does not think I can help.

I clear my throat. "I do have something to show you Mrs. Malfoy. I need to measure the lass' growth in comparison to to your body. I can do this in one of two ways. Would you like to see one of them?" She nods slightly.

"Please place your hand on the desk." I take a oval shaped balloon and a phial of mineral oil out of my bag.

Filling the balloon with 'aguametti' I place it over her hand on the desk with a slight sticking charm. Applying a bit of mineral oil to the balloon, I incant 'sonitus-adludo-maginor' and a detailed picture of the bones of her hand appear three or so inches above the balloon. "I can observe your lass in the same process if you'd like."

She shakes her head no, looking at me suspiciously. "Why cannot you just measure as they did when I was expecting Draco?"

"I can; I just wanted to give you a chance to see her face if you'd like. There are medical reasons to use what I showed you, but they aren't applicable in your case," I say.

I cancel the sticking charm and banish the balloon into my bag. "Mrs. Malfoy, would you please smooth your robes over your stomach?" I ask.

She complies, and I notice the nice little bulge she's been hiding under her robes.

I cast the measure spells and note the measurements in her chart. "Thank you, madam."

"I am just proud of the spell; I created it. It allows me to see a glimpse of the future in each new life I see," I say.

"Maybe later. I am hesitant until I have studied it more," she tells me firmly.

"Very well, let me see if I can help you in your quest for Morgana."

I sit thinking for a moment. I take my pen and make a quick drawing on scrap of parchment. I pull my wand and mutter a few conjuring spells. Before us a device that looks like a pram appears in front of us. Instead of a sun visor for the bairn, it is a flat writing surface and at the back of the writing area is a book stand.

"Madam, my construction may be a bit faulty, and this is but a rough idea. The book stand at the back of the flat surface may hold your reference material. If you use a dictation quill on the parchment on the writing area, you can exercise and write your book at the same time."

She looks at my drawing with a single eyebrow raised. "I told you I would take a walk. I can work four hours, take a walk and eat lunch, then work four more hours, then take a walk before supper. I have no need for these awkward contraptions."

"I just wanted to help you in the two quests you have before you. Imagination is the beginnings of all magic. Plus your health directly affects the health of the lass, and that is the most important thing in the world. Isn't using a awkward contraption worth it if it is beneficial to all?" I ask with a sharper tone than I intended.

"How is it beneficial when it is too awkward to use, and a regular walk is both more effective and efficient?" she answers with a chilled and quiet calm.

"My thoughts were you could read the reference books you need, make notes using the dictation quill and exercise while taking a leisurely walk around your grounds. I guess this will be one topic we will agree to disagree on." I say with a small smile.

"I have completed most of my research. Each chapter is outlined. I am writing it now."

"Then if weather permits, take your work outside for a few hours so you can receive the health benefits of the sun. You may never know what may provide a new direction and clarity of purpose," I state.

"Fine. I will spend some of my writing time outside on sunny days." She pulls out a pouch of Galleons and sets it on the table. "What now? Is there anything I need to be aware of? Careful about? I have not Apparated in over a month--it is most taxing."

I just won't mention that I did the research for the committee on transportation and expectant mothers and came up with the new guidelines.

"Mrs. Malfoy, your age makes your pregnancy high risk, but with reasonable rest everything will be fine. Your blood pressure is slightly elevated, but still in the normal range. There are just too many unknown factors due to you being potioned, and I am concerned."

"I do not know how to keep my blood pressure down. Life happens. Stressful situations arise. You may have heard about what happened on Halloween to Draco. I am striving to get good nutrition, and I am finally getting more rest, but beyond that, I can do little." The serious look on her face vanishes after a moment, and she puts a hand on her stomach with a knowing grin. "She is moving."

I never tire from seeing the quickening within a mother. The wonder and awe of the ultimate magic always fascinates me. "What happened to Draco? I've been in the depths of study with my professors. I haven't seen a Daily Prophet in almost three weeks."

"He was in St. Mungo's. I assumed you knew. His club was attacked by my sister. He sustained some injuries--though probably not lasting. At least he sustained them in the defence of another, a Miss Bell. His club was nearly destroyed. It will be closed for at least a week," she explains.

"I've led a sheltered life over the past year. My studies have consumed most of my time. If you were to ask me how to calculate the birth date of an unborn from conception. I can do that with very little work. But other than that, things that effect the world and myself are few and far between lately.

"I hope Draco heals quickly and is back at work as soon as possible." I say.

"As do I. But since the damage was caused from a chandelier's impact with his face and not from a curse, the healer assured me that his scars will not be lasting."

She puts her hand to her stomach again. "So far, I can only feel her from the inside. Is there anything else I need to know or do before I see you again next month?" she asks.

"I know you will do the best to get the exercise you can; that is the only thing I could recommend. That and in addition to taking all the rest as practical. Your condition has improved very much in the last month. I hope it continues to do so. Please keep taking notes so you may remember to ask me anything that makes you concerned till the next time we meet. Before you know it, you will be able to feel her wonders as she talks to you and dances for your pleasure," I say.

She gestures to the bag of Galleons. "In that case, Until we meet again, I will escort you back to the gates."

"I'll see you again in a month?" I ask, picking up the little sack.

"Yes. I will send you a port key when it is time. Good day, MacMillan."

A Day In the Life

2007-11-08T05:31:49Z

You all know me, I’m Ernie MacMillan, and to some I’m a Healer-Trainee. To others, I’m their Healer both very respectable titles and positions. To the special one of heart, I’m her Knight, a title I hope to keep for the near future with options on a lengthier term. I can wax poetic about Susan for hours, but we are talking about what happened to me over the last couple days. Due to my work schedule, my days are extremely long so it all blends together.

During my lengthy stay at St. Mungo’s recently I recently had a talk with an irate Paul. For the people who know this may sound strange because Paul is our house-elf. For the purists that may read this, it will be shocking because house-elves are known to be subservient of Wizardkind. They just do not know of our relationship.

One of my earliest memories is of Paul. Looking back at it through an adult’s eyes, I awoke late at night and saw a boggart. I don’t remember what form it took, I was screaming and with a burst of accidental magic I broke three out of the four nursery’s windows. The next memory of the situation is Paul appeared on my cot He pushed me behind him with a voice that still rings in my ears Paul said, “YOU WILL NOT HARM MY YOUNGEST MASTER!” As he raised his hands to battle his image of the boggart, Mum and Father came into banish it.

Since that night Paul snuck into my room and gave me a biscuit and told me stories of the other two generations of MacMillans he has served. To this day he calls me My Youngest Master Ernie in private and The Youngest Master in public. I consider him a friend.

I came in to the Schloss from a long day at work, as soon as I hang up my cloak, I see Paul appear before me. He is standing with his hands on his hips and in a quavering voice he said, “Youngest Master Ernie, you must control your ‘beast’. Paul will feed it and clean it’s sand box, but I won’t clean up after it many times in a day. Come and looks at your room!”

I followed Paul up the stairs to my suite of rooms just wondering what type of damage the wee cat Brio has done and why Paul is so irritated? I walk from my sitting room to my bedroom and I find out what set Paul in such a grumpy mood… The first sight I see is my bed spectacularly unmade. The bedspread and quilt lays to the right and the sheets are to the left. My desk has been cleared. The quills and stoppered ink bottles lay on the floor. Most of the quills have been destroyed and it looks like she has had a grand old time. Brio is napping sprawled out taking up most of the three foot by four-foot desk.

I promised Paul that I’d tell my parents that he did his job if they take him to task.

That little cat has been a unique experience to me since I found her. I take a look at my bedroom. My hassock has been ripped to shreds with the feathers laying next to edges. I look in my closet and notice my shoes. She decided to leave a ‘present’ in one of the shoes. When I looked at my laundry basket, and noticed a familiar scent. Thank Merlin for banishing spells and scourgify!

A few ‘repairo’ spells later, and my room is back in order.

I walk over to my desk and pick up my kitty.

Looking into her eyes, I say, “Lass, you haven’t been ladylike at all. What am I going to do with you?” She struggled with me a little hopped into my lap and crawled up my chest until she was sitting on my shoulder rubbing her head on mine and purring furiously, she seems so glad to see me.

I need to get some advice on how to raise a cat. Maybe she is lonely and if she had a playmate, she wouldn’t be so destructive.

I pick up my book and we begin to read. Before I know it, I have a bairn of a cat laying on my head seemingly looking at the book and I hear a ‘maiow’ occasionally as she comments on it. She turns around, and here is her long, black fuzzy tail hanging down into my face.

I take her down and scratch her ears put her on my lap. Just as she looks up at me, a Eagle Owl flies in to my room. I take the envelope off of his leg and he flies off.

On the face of the parchment envelope, stands the MacMillan Family Crest.

I open the envelope and read it.

Ernest MacMillan
Schloss MacMillan

Ernest,

You are requested and required to report to the courtyard of the Schloss on the Eleventh day of the Eleventh Month at the ninth hour in your formal clothes.
We have much to discuss.

With all of my love,

Your Great-Grandfather

Angus Ian MacMillan
Family Historian

I wonder what this is all about? Why is great-Grandpa summoning me with no reason? I must put in the request at work, I guess I’ll find out then. I may have to make an additional one anyway--it is almost time for another private appointment.

The Trials of Being Earnest

2007-10-31T02:18:04Z

From OWL year I’ve thrown myself into my work. That habit hasn’t ceased since I’ve entered the Healer training program. I’ve made my work my life, a habit I’m slowly weaning myself off of; but that doesn’t conflict with my desire to learn the beginnings of life.

Friends and a ‘real life’ is just as important, especially the blue-eyed, brown haired witch whose plait tends to sway in metronome fashion as she floats as she walks down the corridor.

I never think of myself as an extremely clever man, just a touch more intelligent than the average. I just believe I am discreet, sneaky and using my cunning in the best traditions of a certain house I won’t name, but they wear a lot of green and silver.

This was true in my world until I met Fenworthy J. Hollingsworth outside of a teaching situation. The date was 12 October 1999. A distant cousin comes into St. Mungo’s and literally shanghais me into going to attend Ginny Potter’s birth. I would go in seconds if it was a normal birth, but since it was an emergency birth, I call for the best-qualified Healer I know of, Healer Hollingsworth.

Healer Hollingsworth leads our Surgical School. Hollingsworth is a Dumbledoresque Wizard that doesn’t suffer fools gladly. Hollingsworth does seem to exhibit a Hufflepuff trait that I do admire, he teaches his craft well and fosters all that have the honest desire to learn. Sometimes he pushes though, as I learned when he said, “You ought to apply for the Surgical Training Program”.

I thought I was given a choice. I always thought I had the option to say ‘no’. That turns out not to be the case. In the seventeen days since we left Potter Manor, I’ve been shanghaied again into fifteen c-sections, nine amputations and one very rare surgery in the wizarding world, a appendectomy just before it burst.

Seventeen days has four hundred and eight hours. Out of the four hundred eight hours, I’ve slept for sixty; that’s 15% of the total time. I took eight hours out the time to visit with Hannah and do a house call. So out I was at St. Mungo’s for eighty-three percent of the time.

My first surprise comes at 0900 when I report for work. In my message cubbyhole was one written in red “Report to Healer Hollingsworth’s Office-Stat.”

“Healer-Trainee MacMillan, Hollingsworth said, I’ve heard some disturbing whispers.

“You are taking private patients outside of the protective umbrella of St. Mungo’s sphere. Two mothers-to-be; one a higher risk pregnancy due to potion taken to ensure conception.”

I could feel my face drain of color Thank Merlin for the loose robe I wear, he probably can’t see the knees shaking. I’m using ever method I can to lessen or prevent the shaking of my hands. All that I could think of is ‘how in the bloody hell does the old man know this?

“You have shown me you have good judgment and I won’t ask about the private patients as long as I have your word you will ask for help if you need it.

“Don’t let me down, MacMillan. I’d hate to have to kick you out of the program when you are showing such progress.

“Now let us start rounds.” He says.

The day flies by faster than a seeker on a firebolt. I just sign my last chart with a flourish, as an owl flies in the window of the study room. I was hoping it might be Harmony, but it was a great-horned owl instead of a long-ear. The owl stopped in front of me and stuck out its leg. I take the letter and began to read.

30 October 1999

Dear Healer-Trainee MacMillan,

You are invited to apply to the surgical program of this cycle. Please fill out and return the application by 15 November 1999. I look forward to teaching you and your colleagues.

Sincerely yours,

Augustus Pye, Healer
St. Mungo’s Hospital, London

On a small chit of non-descript parchment, I find the note—
‘
Fill it out and send it soon, Ernie. I think you may have what it takes.

F.J. Hollingsworth

Thank Merlin, I have a couple of days off. I need to rest and think about the whole idea.

A Flock of Owls Between Friends

2007-10-17T03:04:06Z

Owl to Hannah Longbottom.

Dear Hannah,

It has been too long since we have had a talk. By Merlin's beard, do I ever have news for you. When can we meet to chat? I hope Neville has time to join us as well.

All my best,

Ernie

Dear Friend,

I'd love to meet you and hear your news? The Leaky Cauldron for lunch maybe? I doubt Neville can come. He's been incredibly busy with the green houses and his herbology research.

Hannah Longbottom

Dear Hannah,

All I can say is that the next Puff Girl's Night Out maybe very entertaining and interesting. I'm free for lunch at the Cauldron Monday, Thursday and Friday; are any of these days good for you?

Ernie

---
Dear Ernie--

Monday would be great. See you around noon?

Hannah

Dear Hannah,

Look up, you'll probably see me flying without a broom.

Ernie

----

ERNIE!!

YOU DID IT!! BRILLIANT!! You have some Gryffindor in you after all.

Hannah

Hannah,

You know me too well; I'll be there on Monday at noon.

Ernie

ate_ernie @ 2007-10-08T17:39:00

2007-10-09T01:17:01Z

I love my job. I honestly do. I never shied away from hard work in my entire life. I just never ever thought working in the hospital and having a few private practice patients would be so interesting.

While I was trying to study in the break room or work on charts in the chart room, I recieved this series of owls.

I am really looking forward to be finished with training so I just concentrate on my patients.

The Other Woman In My Life

2007-09-25T17:05:30Z

Her hair is so soft and touchable. When she talks to me, it seems to calm me where I know there is mutual comfort. When I hold her in the way the book recommends, I know she is comfortable where she just melds into me and she rests there. Even though she is beautiful and lovable, she does have some annoying habits.

I’ve rolled out my practice keyboard, and I began to practice, a certain raven-haired beauty decided to attack my fingers. That can be fun, but since I can only hear the notes the practice keyboard makes, having her press they keys makes me wonder if the poor note was caused by her or me.

I never thought my life would change so much in the last thirty-three days. It has been a very expensive month indeed—

13 Galleons for a new robe on my birthday, 8 Galleons for her bath and litter box and food, another 10 for a book on cat care and a carpet covered tree to sharpen her claws so she can be up high. So roughly, a third of a month’s salary on the raven-haired one, I’d spend the amount again if she actually used any of them but the litter box and food bowls with any regularity.

The book recommended that you place the bum of a cat on a firm surface then the front paws up in the air for the best comfort of the animal. When I first took her home, she was small enough where I can do it just in my hand.

Over the last month, she has grown to where her backside is in the middle of my arm. When she decides to stretch out, she is a cubit long. The tips of her back feet touch the crook of my elbow and her front feet dangle off the end of my middle finger.

Now she insists on sleeping there most of the time while I’m sitting up.

I take her and put her on the cat tree, but that doesn’t work. She hops down and jumps into my lap. Using her claws she climbs my chest and holds on waiting on my arm’s support. I put her down and activate her toys with my wand, but if I’m not controlling them, she’d climb my chest and want to cuddle still.

It looks like I might have to use a dictation quill again. I can’t hold a book open to read, take notes and hold my mistress at the same time.

I just wonder when the time comes and the three of us meet, will my mistress be willing to share my affections with my girlfriend?

ate_ernie @ 2007-09-22T19:36:00

2007-09-23T02:56:33Z

The Day Before Ernie’s Lesson—

“Noden, I say, “ Lad, tomorrow will be the day. I’m going to tell Susan who I am.”

Never thought I’d be jealous of an owl. I was reading in a owl care book that Long-Ears mate for life. Either both of us will be happy or Noden will because I’ve seen him eyeing Harmony. I don’t doubt there will be chicks in their future soon. So Susan may end up owning both; but I can’t think like that. You will be successful Ernie.

“Up for one more visit with Harmony, Noden?” I ask. As I say the name Harmony, I can see his head perk up. I see him fly over and nudge the box as if saying, “You mentioned Harmony, and you aren’t ready to send it off yet?”

I load the box with Bobby Darin’s single, “Dream Lover” with piano music and lyrics. A top the record, I placed the badger toy I enchanted to speak; he has his claymore in a hanger down his back and a copy of my own wand at his belt, I just wonder if she’d remember I have a hazel wand.

Now I pick up the fountain pen she gave me to write the note and send another love struck lad on his way to his lady fair.

Beautiful Susan,

I was out in Muggle London a while back and saw this toy. When I picked him up and felt his softness, I knew he was for you. I spent a hour or more in a pub having luncheon, and I heard this music wafting to my ears and I saw your face. Please tap the toy with your wand and say hello. Then give it a hug.

Till I gaze into your eyes with my own,

Noden’s Wizard

Ethics

2007-09-21T04:20:22Z

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.

A Day of Surprises

2007-08-31T05:27:17Z

A few days ago, I bought Noden a new perch. Since Harmony is often his guest for a little while when she delivers Susan’s letters; I thought they would like a bit more room for comfort’s sake.

Last night I worked from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. Normally, I’d sleep from seven to two or three and wake up and have tea with the family at four. Then I’d have the next hours to rest and study before I went back to work. I was lucky today that I didn’t have to work until the next morning. I never knew what the surprises that I’d get today.

It started at eleven in the morning. I awoke to the sight of an agitated owl. Normally, Noden is a well-behaved owl that only softly hooted when I talked to him. The volume of hoots will only increase slightly when he is talking to Harmony. Today he was taking me to task. I just wonder what sin I committed in his eyes?

I roll out of bed and put on a dressing gown. I looked over at my desk and saw that it was Harmony sitting there semi-patiently with a package tied to her talons. After a quick trip to the loo, I untie the large package and give both owls a treat and an apology. Since Harmony came during the daytime and with a small package; I know it isn’t the proceeds of a ‘Puffgirl’s Night Out’. Since it is just a week after my birthday, she must be sending me late birthday present.

The owls are off on Noden’s new perch. I wonder why I bought it now; they are as close on the two owl perch as they ever were on his original one.

I sit down and take the see the pair of owls, they make me smile due to the manner of communication magical folk use; I wonder if she bought it, or conjured it. Opening the card I read what she has written it wasn’t to me for my birthday, it is to the Mystery Wizard. The words that jump out and flash at me ALL MY LOVE, SUSAN. Could it actually be true, that she feels the same way as I feel about her? By Merlin’s beard, I hope it is so!

I open the box and find three muggle quills. Inkpots and golden sticks with springs near the pointed ends. There also are small red rubber items and clear boxes with sticks of graphite. I’m sure I can use these every day. Now all I need to do is try them out.

I open the desk drawer and pull out a sheet of parchment. Taking the thinnest black quill out of its box. I press the silver top twice and a quarter inch of graphite comes out of the end. I go to make a mark on the parchment; I must have pressed too hard, a small mark was made on it and the graphite tip broke. Did I break it? I hope not. I’m just so excited! I set it aside. I’ll look in the box later to see if I can find an instruction booklet so I can see just what I did wrong.

Taking the next quill out and I click the silver tip and a golden nib comes out of the end. Gliding the end over the paper, the black ink flowed effortlessly. Amazing things these muggles can do without magic! I feel that I could write for hours with this pen. I click on the silver end again and the golden nib disappears.

Picking up the last pen, I play with it and try to figure out how to write with it. After a bit, I the top comes off, for a split second I thought I broke it. Then I see a golden tib that looks like it is a golden quill end. Slowly and carefully I draw a line over the parchment. It looks better than the inkless quills I normally use at work. Picking up the instruction booklet, I find out how to load the pen with ink. You unscrew the tip from the body of the pen and stick the tip in the inkwell and press the sides of the bladder and it sucks it up into the bladder for use later. I’m going to use this pen the most. It just says ‘dignified healer’ to me.

I call for Paul, our house elf, and ask him for a small plate of smoked salmon. I fed Harmony and Noden bits of salmon. I thank Harmony for her delivery and say, “Lass, stay as long as you like. I won’t be sending a reply right now.” She hoots and then turns her head and looks as if she is talking and cuddling with Noden.

I shower and shave and prepare to leave the Schloss. I walk to the apparition point and apparate to Honeydukes in Hogsmeade. I bought her a pound box of Honeydukes finest filled chocolates. Going back home, I called for Paul. I ask him to prepare a box with a half-pound of thinly sliced smoked salmon.

When he returns, I wrap both parcels in Hufflepuff colored paper and ask Paul to make it lighter so Noden wouldn’t have to work as hard. He does it with just a snap of his finger. The two-pound package now feels like it only weighs a half-pound. I thank him for his help and he pops out of my suite.

I take an envelope and two fancy pieces of parchment out and uncap the fountain pen. With a flowing script, I begin to write the letters.

I call Noden over to the desk attached the box to his talons. “Take this to Harmony and Susan, lad.”

I went to sleep and tossed and turned. I often heard the chorus to “Magic Works” Her face floated in my dreams. I awoke at 4 a.m. and got ready for work. I had my black bag with my reference books and potions that I carry around with me. In my breast pocket close to my heart, lies the fountain pen.

I look over at my bed; Brio is sound to sleep on my pillow. Over on the perch, Noden is sleeping with a self-satisfied look on his face. I walk to the Apparition point and Apparate to work.
I threw myself into work. While I’m sure I didn’t make any mistakes, I know my mind wasn’t on my job. My mind was at The Musical Notebook basking in the glow of it’s proprietress.

My last patient of the day was a middle aged muggle-born witch in the beginning stages of menopause. We discussed the possible treatments and agreed on hormone replacement potions.

I picked up the book of prescription blanks on the desk to fill out my orders for the hospital apothecary. I hear Madam Robinson say, “Healer MacMillan, I thought you told me that you were still in training.” I reply, “Yes Madam, I am.”

“Oh, she says, I was just admiring the engraving on your pen. It reminded me of one that my grandfather used to use.”

I close and seal the lid. I turn the pen over and see the engraving, “Healer MacMillan”. I’m sure my face blanched and turned bright red in matter of seconds.

“By the Badger’s paws and Helga’s garters…She knows it is ME!” I thought. I’ve never been so scared and happy in my life! Thank Merlin I know when I can tell her.

Music Critics and Swords

2007-08-29T20:19:26Z

Music Critic

I started to learn to play the pipes right after I turned nine. Granda explained to me that the pipes were a combination of a oboe, flute and organ. “Th’ pipes produce the verra best music in th’ world.” “After a bit of the Highland Heather, usually Glen Livet, or Glen Moraigh, two fine single-malt scotch whiskeys, he’d say, “Ernie lad, the pipes are a two sided martial coin, they can be used to bolster the moral of our troops. When they are hidden by a simple spell that creates fog around the piper, it can make their troops lose their water and run away” For some reason this always made him laugh.

Well he was 125 at the time, but he still knows how to play the pipes well.

I took Brio into the practice room that mutes the pipe’s sound, it is an outside musical instrument and very noisy at times. I put them up on a stand and went to bed. At four a.m. I heard of a series of squawks and honks and escaping air.

Here is Brio attacking with the vengeance of the damned, the bladder of my pipes.

I need tea and breakfast.

Och, did you ever want to know how much a bladder for a B-flat set of pipes is? I know I didn't, but I had to buy it this morning. The wee lass Brio decided to take me pipes to task and put a multitude of holes in the bladder. She must be a music critic. I tried to repair it using 'repairo', but Grandda caught me. I was notified in no uncertain terms that it must be replaced, not repaired.

Well, I have to go to Travetti's Specialties anyway to pick up the Badger's sword, so I can kill two birds with one stone. I walk through the gateway at the back of the Leaky Cauldron and go to Gringotts to pick up a bag of gold from my account and walk to the shop.

As soon as the door swung open and I began to walk through, Callie the blonde saleswitch was walking towards to me. I said, "Hello, I recieved an owl from Miss Poliakoff stating my custom order was ready."

Before she can say anything, a door opens and Miss Poliakoff steps out. "Callie, I need the order forms- I have to put in an order for more silver... oh hello Mr MacMillan. Here for your order?"

"Yes, miss. Since I saw how detailed and exact the drawings were, I've been looking forward to seeing the actual craftings." I say.

She smiles. "Well then, hold on just a moment." She walks back behind the counter, and goes into her workshop and comes back out, to set... two swords on the table. "The scabbards I had Callie made- and I made two pieces. You can choose which one you like better. This one," she points to the right one, as she unwraps it, "Has onyx gemstones on the handle and then a few citrine ones on the back of the handle. I placed a charm on it so that it would sort of glint like a pale yellow in certain lights. The other one," She unwraps the left one, " I made the handle itself out of onxy gemstones, and as you can see there is a small H in the form of the citrine stones in the middle of the handle. And on the dull blade- I have a vine that sort of curves around it, with yellow and black glints to it, against the silver finish."

"They are both very beautiful pieces of work. I will take them both. The one on the left, can you add either a ascot pin to it or a small pin so I can pin it to my kilt?" I ask.

Miss Poliakoff blinks at me a couple times and I can see she's slightly stunned. "Well thank you. And I think I can add on a pin.. Callie?"

"Right here, Nina." The other young lass comes up holds out a small display stand holding out a few ascot pins.

"Go ahead and choose which one, Mr MacMilan," Miss Poliakoff says, her tone very quiet like. "And I am pleased you like both."

"You go ahead and choose the one that will be easiest to meld in with the sword's construction. I will trust your judgement. Now before we go on, let us discuss the matter of your fee." I say.

She says nothing at first, as she quietly selects an ascot pin, and I see her meld the pin right on the sword I chose, with her wand, working carefully and quietly. Even the other lass says nothing, just makes a gesture for me to wait. Once the pin is fastened, Miss Poliakoff turns to me. "Well, each one comes to 70 Galleons each Mr MacMillan. The ascot pin is only an added 4 Galleons. If you like, I can give you a tab for the shop and you can pay when you can, if it is too much to pay for both now."

A gross of galleons? Oh my, hopefully I can keep calm and neutral not like when I found out what the 3H treatment was before the first delivery I witnessed.

"Done, I say, I have eighty Galleons now, if you will give me a few minutes, I will return with the remaning sixty-four."

"Of course Mr MacMilan. I must say I am quite pleased you like both of these swords. It is not something I normally work on and I am now starting to think of doing some more for display, in case other wizards would like one to represent their clan or something else."

"What a wonderful idea. Brooches with the clan coats of arms may be another option as well.

"I will be back in just a few minutes with the rest of the gold." I say.

Sometimes I wish our banks were like the muggle ones. The cart rides take so long sometimes. I take another eighty Galleons and put it in my bag. Then I go back to the shop.

"Miss Poliakoff, Good day, I say happily, Shall we complete our transaction?" I ask.

.

She grins. "It is a good day. Callie will take your payment, while I wrap these two back up." She takes the swords and goes behind the main counter. As I hand the other lass the galleons, Miss Poliakoff wraps the two swords and scabbards up in a black cloth and then sets them in a velvet lined case and hands it to me. "Have a good day Mr MacMilan. I hope you do come back for anything else you might like."

"That I will, Miss Poliakoff, I will recommend your work to my friends." I say.

"Why thank you. Enjoy the rest of your day Mr. MacMillan." She gives me one more smile, and then heads back into her workshop.

Now it is time to go home. Perhaps I should floo Professor Flitwick to see if he knows a charm that I can put on my pipes so I can protect them from the wee bairn of a Sassenach kitty.

ate_ernie @ 2007-08-22T11:37:00

2007-08-22T18:48:45Z

Happy Birthday to Me—

I went to a park bench to have my luncheon today. I heard a pathetic mewling sound coming from somewhere. I placed my tuna sandwich on the bench next to me and I went to investigate. I looked up into the trees, in the bushes, even under the very bench I was sitting on. I couldn’t find the cat.

The mewling sounded weaker. I think I know where it is coming from—it seems to be coming from the street level. I see a paw coming out of the storm drain underneath the sidewalk. Of course on the pavement there is a large puddle of oil, and I’m wearing my new robes. MacMillan sometimes you have no luck.

So I kneeled down and saw this black blur underneath in the sewers. I reached my hand and it came back bloody. The farther I reached in to get the wee one, the further back he scrambled back towards a ledge that I could barely make out. I stuck my head up and saw nothing but a sea of muggles, so I can’t use my wand.

So I stood up and walked over to my seat and picked up the remainder of my sandwich. “Merlin, look at this stain!” I mutter. I walk back towards the drain and stick my hand holding a sandwich down by the drain. I moved the sandwich back and forth in a seductive manner. The cat crept out and I grabbed a paw and slowly pulled. The cat yowls, hisses and meows loudly. When I finally get it out of the drain and hold it where it is stable, I hold it at eye level to take a good look at the cat. It’s covered in oil, fur matted down but very vocal. After a short while, a small paw reached out and scratched the tip of my nose. The first thing out of my mouth was, “Why you slimy little git. Shall I call you Professor Snape?”

Since the knee of my robe is probably ruined with an oil stain, I might as well cuddle the little beastie to my chest and feed it my sandwich. It eats voraciously,

It spits at me and swipes at my ring as if it was saying, “Ten points from Hufflepuff, Mr. MacMillan.

I duck behind a tree and apparate us to Diagon alley. I take the slimy, greasy little git to the Magical Menagerie and drop it off for treatment. After a quick Scourgify , yep the oil stains are there for good.

I walk down the street to Madam Maulkins to get a new set of robes. Damn little beastie cost me 13 Galleons because I needed to wear them out of the shop. Thank goodness Madam Maulkin wasn’t busy and likes me.

I go down the Menagerie and ask about the wee cat I dropped off. From the back a lass brought out this black ball of fluff with pretty blue eyes.

“Well Lad, what shall I call you? You don’t look like Professor Snape now or even a Severus, anymore” I say.

The lass behind the counter, “Severus wouldn’t be a good name for a little girl sir.”

I paid the money for their services and a litter box along with some food. I don’t know if I am going to keep her or even what to name her yet—Well I could give her to either Hannah or Susan.

ate_ernie @ 2007-08-21T12:29:00

2007-08-21T19:40:18Z

Maybe she won’t notice my voice on the toy, it doesn’t come up that often. But to verify and give another clue, I have an idea to help. If I have a sword crafted out of pewter, silver or platinum with my family’s crest in it, it will be perfect.

I’ve heard about the new jewelry/broom shop in Diagon Alley. I have no use for brooms except as emergency transportation, but talking to the operator of the jewelry shop might be profitable.

Looking at the window, there was a drawing of a simple plated necklace with the words intertwined: Travetti's Special Jewels- For Your Special Jewel In Life. I walk into the shop and I hear a bell ring.

I look around the shop, it has soft color tones for the walls and rug, glass cases rounding the room and a round glass case in the center of the room, where a few witches at the moment are clustered around. I step closer inside and soon a witch with dark blonde hair and hazel eyes walks up to me.

"Hello, sir. My name is Callie. Is there anything you need help looking for?"

"Hi Callie, I'm Ernie MacMillan, I would like to talk with someone about a custom piece please."

"Well let me bring you to Nina Poliakoff, she's the one that takes down custom orders." She encourages me to follow her, and she leads me behind one of the counters and opens a door. "Nina, there's a Mr MacMilan here who would like to talk to you about a custom piece. Are you busy?"

"I'm not busy enough for a customer Callie," I hear, her voice soft with a thick accent I cannot quite place. "Let him in."

"Hi Callie, I'm Ernie MacMillan, I would like to talk with someone about a custom piece please."

"Well let me bring you to Nina Poliakoff, she's the one that takes down custom orders." She encourages me to follow her, and she leads me behind one of the counters and opens a door. "Nina, there's a Mr MacMilan here who would like to talk to you about a custom piece. Are you busy?"

"I'm not busy enough for a customer Callie," I hear, her voice soft with a thick accent I cannot quite place. "Let him in."

Callie steps to the side to let me in. "Mr MacMilian this is Nina Poliakoff, she'll be able to help you."

I notice the room I walk into is her workshop, tools, drawings, with gems in thier containers are neatly organized.

She stands and introduce myself, "Hello Miss Polaiakoff, I'm Ernie MacMillan." She offers me a seat and I pull out the badger toy out of my bag and place it on the worktable.

"Miss Poliakoff, I crafted this badger toy for the lady I'm courting." I say. I tap the toy with my wand and say, "What is your purpose?" The toy says in a gruff old scot warrior's voice, "I"m a Mage-Knight Errant here to guard the lady fair."

"As you can see he has a wand in his belt sheath, but he needs a sword to wield as well. I chose the badger because we are both Hufflepuffs but I couldn't find a proper sword anywhere. I came to you to craft a beautiful work of art in a claymore shape." I hand her a button, "With this crest somewhere on the sword if at all possible. The symbol is my family crest."

A Surprising Evening

2007-08-04T18:43:06Z

We had a guest lecturer at St. Mungo’s today. It was a Healer from America, one Raymond Rotheri from Marion Square, North Carolina. He is in private practice and is on staff at St. Luke’s Hospital of Raleigh, North Carolina.

Have you all ever talked to an American? Their use of the language stymies me at times. Mispronouncing words such as schedule. We use the dignified shed-ule and they say the word vulgarly said as sked-ule. How can we understand them? Well I did, after a fashion when he was talking about professional matters. When we talked privately later on in the evening, it was as if he was speaking Greek and I left my wand at home.

I’ll remember the lecture for a long time. We were in the basement auditorium.
In walked a man wearing short iron-gray hair wearing a suit with a waist coat,

Since the lectern had an inlaid sonorous spell allowing for hands free talking. He raised his wand in the air and said, “I am Raymond Rotheri. By my mind, heart and wand, I will face our enemy death fearlessly except when it is the natural part of life.” Magic flared and we knew that was an oath that he believed in with all of his heart.

“That my dear colleagues, is the oath that American Healers take when they receive their licenses to practice our art. It goes well with its muggle cousin. Ours is shorter and to the point. Muggles tend to wax poetic--I swear by Apollo Physician and Asclepius and Hygieia and Panaceia and all the gods and goddesses, making them my witnesses, that I will fulfill according to my ability and judgment this oath and this covenant:

To hold him who has taught me this art as equal to my parents and to live my life in partnership with him, and if he is in need of money to give him a share of mine, and to regard his offspring as equal to my brothers in male lineage and to teach them this art - if they desire to learn it - without fee and covenant; to give a share of precepts and oral instruction and all the other learning to my sons and to the sons of him who has instructed me and to pupils who have signed the covenant and have taken an oath according to the medical law, but no one else.

“It goes on for a few more paragraphs, but in my opinion, those were the most applicable passages,” he said.

“So in keeping my Healer and Doctor’s oaths, I’m here today to share with you the newest discovery of the American Healer’s Association.

“Curescara, a new salve to apply wounds created by curses including wounds made by werewolves.

“It effectively removes the curse from the wound to allow healing. It does have one side effect though; the wound could not be healed by magical means. It must be closed by stitches and allowed to heal on its own. Once healed through time, Oblivious Unction can be used to remove the scar totally.

“If the slide projector operator would show the first slide. The patient is a eight year old girl suffering from lycanthropy. During her first transformation before wolfsbane potion could be administered to ease the transformation, she inflicted the wounds on herself seen on slides one and two.” He said.

The wounds were deep gashes along her forearms. It looked as if strips of flesh were stripped. I could see the bubbling of the salve and the edges of the wound turned black and were excised from the arm. Stitches were applied to close the wound. I was just amazed how clever these muggles were in their medical techniques.

“Ten days later, he said, we removed the stitches and applied the Oblivious Unction to the scar. A day afterwards the scar faded. Three days post removal of the stitches; applying Oblivious Unction each day, the scar was gone totally.

“We aren’t sure if the Curescara Salve will work on the initial bites of a werewolf, but we have high hopes it will.

“This salve should work on all hard to heal curse wounds for a scar free result.

“Questions?” He said.

Two hours later, the question and answer period was over. Healer Rotheri assisted the other Healer-Instructors in their rounds exchanging information. Speaking on general topics, his accent and manner of speech was quite unique, often hard to understand. When he talked of medical matters, he was quite understandable, strange isn’t it?

I worked the last eight hours of my shift and retired to the study room. I had one more task to complete before bed. My final ‘Mystery Wizard’ gift to Susan, I’m not sure when I’ll send it yet; but I know I’ll tell her soon who I am.

I took the badger toy out of my bag and set it on the table. According to my notes, I only had a few more enchantments and it would be completed.

The toughest part of this magical toy is to keep my concentration so the old warrior’s voice could come out of my mouth. I lost concentration when I had a silver furred kneazle slide across the table just as I was saying, “Hold me close and I’ll always be here to protect you.” It came out in my voice and not the old warrior’s. Damn! Three weeks of work down the drain if I start anew. So I just do the final charm and seal the enchantments on the toy. What’s done is done. I was going to tell her soon anyway.

Behind me, I heard “Dayum Cat, won’t stay where I want her to.” He said.

The kneazle turned and her hackles rose and she hissed at Healer Rotheri.

“My apologies, Lady Sickle, she of the most beautiful kneazle stock in the world.” He said.

The kneazle surprised me when she walks across the table and leaps up to his shoulder and begins to purr. She licked his face twice, and settled down for a scratching behind the ears.

He looks at me with a small grin and covers her ears. “She doesn’t like to be reminded that her great-grand dame was a common feline.”

“She is a kit from my brother’s kneazle. Her name is Three Knuts. Since she is such a lovely shade of silver, I named her Sickle.” He said.

He points to the toy on the table; “I suppose you are a Hufflepuff? Good House from all I hear about it. Has the best attributes of all of the houses, but they don’t crow about it.” He muttered.

I looked at him incredulously, A Hufflepuff with the mannerisms of a Slytherin? I think not! But on the other hand, Zach Smith is could fill the bill.

“Who’s the toy for, son?” He asks.

As I feel my skin start to redden, “A Witch that doesn’t know I exist, sir.” I say.

“Why not may I ask? You seem to be a strappin’ boy. With a good profession and a good spirit if I don’t miss my mark. You remind me of my eldest son,” he said.

“I’ve always been rubbish with Witches. The one I made this toy for is special.

“It may sound funny, but as long as I send her letters and gifts without her knowing it is me, she is mine for a while at least. I guess I’m just a coward.” I ramble on.

“Not a coward by any stretch of the imagination. Just a little scared of being hurt. It’s perfectly understandable for a boy of your age.

“My one piece of wisdom I’d want to pass along is ‘ Poop or get off the pot, boy’.” He said.

“Healer are you about to quiz me on something pertaining to proctology?” I ask.

He chuckled merrily. “No son, forgive me for slipping into my mother tongue for a moment. Let’s see if I can figure out a euphemism that you can understand easier.

“Don’t block the entrance to platform 9 ¾, you won’t know the wonders you’d find by stepping through, just standing there.” He said.

I smile when I think I understand him.

“In other words, tell the girl!” He said. I nodded emphatically implying that I will.

Damn, first Hannah, then Healer Rotheri. Am I that wide open? Can I find it in myself to tell her?

He asked a few questions about the toy itself. What the toy said. How did I animate its face to look like it was talking? I answered the questions as clearly and concisely as I could.

He said to me as he was scratching Sickle’s ears, “It must be nice to have animals to be your house symbols. I was in Franklin House. Franklin’s Symbol is a lightning bolt. I don’t know of many witches that would want to snuggle with a stuffed lightning bolt toy.

We talked about women in general for twenty or so minutes. He told me how he met his wife. It made me feel uncomfortable. He was just about to go into how his children met their mates; I have had enough of this topic and say, “Can you tell me about Curescara Salve’s inception, sir?”

“The question is son, how open is your mind? Do you let the old prejudices hold sway?” He asked.

‘I try not to, sir.” I say.

“The creator of Curescara Salve, has been recognized as one of the brightest minds by the American Society of Potion Makers. He has a Theoretical Mastery.” He said.

“Why just a theoretical mastery, Healer?” I ask.

“Well Mr. MacMillan, you can only get theoretical mastery if you don’t own a wand.” He said.
I stared at him for a moment, slack-jawed. “The creator is a parent of a muggleborn, sir?” I gasp.

“No, he is a what your society would call a squib.

The only squib that I knew of on a daily basis was Mr. Filch. I couldn’t picture Mr. Filch actually being friendly to anyone. I thought.

“He had special reason to work on Curescara Salve. The girl who was bitten by the werewolf, is his granddaughter and my great-niece,” He said.

“Did you do the practical part of the Salve’s research?” I ask.

“Oh, no son. I’m competent at potions, but they don’t thrill me. My younger brother, George, did the practical part

“The ultimate circular scenario was to have my brother George fail at first year potions. From what I’ve heard, he earned the mark half way between Poor and Troll. A month before school was out, Papa was owled with George’s results so he began studying potion making to help tutor him over the summer. That is one area of magic that a squib could study and actually learn; it is very similar to cooking. By the time the summer of George’s first year ended between Papa and my Granddad, George was retested and enjoyed potions fully.

“When he went back to school for second year, he was half way through the third year’s curriculum and passed second year potions with an O.

“Final thoughts on the subject would be I detest the term squib. Our family has produced its share, but I prefer the term the person has the heart of a wizard, just not the skill.” He said.
.

We discussed a few other things over the next hour. I bought him a cup of tea then packed up my belongings and flooed home. He has given me many things to think about.

Aftermath

2007-07-19T22:38:35Z

I went to work and spent a few hours on my normal duties then I heard the hospital wide emergency claxon sound.

Patients being portkeyed into the emergency area were appearing right and left.

We started the triage of the wounded. Did I ever mention that I have a love/hate relationship with my job? By pure chances the first two patients I touched and began to treat died in just a few minutes after the Healer and I began treatment.

I can’t say just how many spells I cast, or how many potions I called for today.

I have two foes I’d want to defeat but I know they will defeat me every time, eventually. The first is death when it isn’t a natural part of life due to advanced age.

When I went to face the second, reams of parchment I need to fill out daily, I find Trevor with a note from Hannah. Caley, Megan’s sister has a broken arm. It will be good to visit with Hannah again even if it is a housecall.

I just need to find a joyful music in my life. Yes music is what I need. Many choruses of “Magic Works.”

Writing and Research

2007-07-16T02:11:04Z

I reported to work and was promptly summoned into the office of the august Healer Fenworthy Jay Hollingsworth.

Professor Hollingsworth said, "Macmillan, we have started to have a post war baby boom since He-Who er Voldemort's defeat. One of the biggest questions we have received by owl is travel restrictions for expectant mothers. I'll give you five hours for research and writing." He said.

After a few muted "Yes sirs." I went to the library and began to read.

After a few hours of reading and some chicken scratch on parchment, I finally got the basics down.

Healer Ernie’s Guide to Magical Travel
For Expectant Mothers

First of all, since the life that dwells inside you is the most important thing in the world, I’d say use floo travel during the whole pregnancy from the first missed cycle. Since this isn’t practical, use these guidelines—

First Trimester: Since you are carrying a very, very wee bairn, The child is the approximate size of a apple seed to a cherry. Apparition is safe till the beginnings of the second trimester.

Second Trimester: The baby is growing larger, and you wouldn’t want to splinch, so Apparition isn’t to be done. The baby grows from the size of a cherry to a child’s doll size. Floo travel and portkeys are acceptable.

Third Trimester: The baby is getting close to the weight and development that he/she could survive out of the womb. For the baby’s health, you need to carry them to term. The stresses of portkey travel may cause premature labor. Feeling the pull at your navel, isn’t the best for the wee bairn; so use Floo Travel exclusively.

If you follow these simple rules, your baby will be in your arms smiling and laughing in no time at all.

Ernest MacMillan, Trainee-Healer

One Long Night In London

2007-07-07T16:17:28Z

A few weeks ago, before the Azkaban Breakout, I did something I’m not too proud of, I muggle baited. I stunned this student and copied his student ID and I placed my picture there. I wanted to see a surgery done muggle style.

In my training as a Healer, blood loss is very limited unless due to injury. It was totally different in the operating theatre. Blood flowed everywhere. I almost lost the contents of my stomach twice, but I was totally fascinated by the process of the surgery.

I’d much rather learn and practice magical surgery, a last ditch effort chance to give your patient a survival chance. Even during the Douglas caesarian section, I was interested more in the child yet to be born than the way that they were born.

Then the horrors of the muggle world came home to roost in mine. The Death Eaters escaped and the people became frightened. Buying and selling faux magical items and spells; where is the Ministry and why aren’t they protecting us?

Greyback and Taltos escaping scared one mixed culture villiage. The mother, a pureblood witch, accidentally used her muggleborn husband’s shot firing fireleg loaded with silver pieces and gravely wounded her eleven year old child. She was so scared that she didn’t realize that it is still a couple of weeks till the full moon.

During the last six hours of my shift, the girl and four other critically wounded people came in to St. Mungo’s. I went from patient to patient assessing them. I was incanting “Cervicula” to brace necks, “Fodicoula” to brace broken ribs, “Ferula” to splint broken bones trying to stabilize the people so the Healers and I could treat them later in order to save their lives.

Antevenio- coniunctio to prevent blood loss; became my friend, then I finally looked at this child’s face, this was the girl that was shot by her Mum. Her face was so pale from the loss of blood. Here she is missing her lower leg, I helped her into a sitting position to help her drink some Blood Replenishing Potion. After she made a face, and patted my hand. Noticing her brown plaited hair and blue eyes and a large smile, she said, “Don’t worry Healer, I’ll be ok.” I stayed with her till she fell asleep due to the sedatives. I got a flashback memory of Susan sitting across from me at the Hufflepuff table right after our sorting.

The last procedure I did that night was assisting in the modified amputation on this young lady. I remember from class, the quality of prosthetic limbs have improved vastly over the one Professor Moody had and I was very glad on that fact for her.
I went to go do my paperwork before I finally went home after being her 42 hours straight. I noticed my socks were squishing. The funny thing is that I don’t remember walking through a mud puddle or water on the floor. I decided to take a shower instead of going to the office area first.

I learned one thing as I sat down to take off my shoes. You notice little things after a while that you never would think about. Feet have hills and valleys like your fingerprints do. I just noticed that today because mine were filled with blood.

I wiped most of it off and noticed that they were feeling sticky and tacky.

I tried ‘Scourgify’ but the blood in the creases of my feet was still there.

After three showers, I seem to still see it. Remind me again, why did I decide to become a Healer?

Slowly I dressed in a clean lime-green colored robe and walked through the hallways aimlessly. Before I knew it I was standing in the clean room of the hospital nursery. Mechanically I cast the cleansing spells and slipped on a sterile outer robe. I walked through the door and startled the Medi-Witch on duty. The look on my face must have startled her for she stepped aside.

I went to a bassinet and scooped up a baby holding it close to me smelling the clean baby smell. Sitting down in the rocker, I rocked for what seemed for hours,

Getting up and setting the little girl down in the bassinet, “Och, me beautiful wee bairn, give the Friar my best when ye are sorted into Hufflepuff, “ I say. I kiss the index and middle fingers and place them on the crown of her head. I must be tired, I’m sounding more and more like my grandfather. I stand up straight and feel the tight muscles in my back twinge and walk out the door.

I walk into the nursery’s vestibule and strip off the sterile outer robe and place it into the receptacle. I walk out into the corridor; I hear Healer Pye beckon me towards an exam room, I enter and close the door. Here was an expectant mum sitting in a birthing chair, fully clothed but with her blouse pulled up under her bust line. The future dad was standing nearby with a camera. The mum slathered her belly with mineral oil and looked at Healer Pye expectantly.

“Mister and Misses Smith, this is Healer MacMillan, he invented the spell to let us check on your baby’s health. The secondary aspect of it is what we are going to do today, Healer MacMillan if you will?

I incanted, “sonitus-adludo-maginor” and the baby appeared over her stomach.

I stood there in awe and just watched the baby move within the mother while dad took photos. When I came to awareness again, tears were rolling down my cheeks. I owe Healer Pye a pint, or maybe two. “Thank you Healer Pye, I said. Thank you for sharing your joy Mr.& Mrs. Smith.” I leave the room.

I finally think I can complete my shift’s paperwork.

Meeting Hannah

2007-07-04T15:41:04Z

I picture the apparition point near Knightly and Poppington, Attorneys at Law. I have to concentrate on the dreaded three D's when I'm this tired. With a slight twist, I'm there. Oh my I didn't shave too well when I got off work tonight, but Hannah has seen me worse. I walk in the door and talk to the receptionist. "Hullo, I'm Ernie MacMilllan, Miss Abbott is expecting me.” I say.

"She's just getting off work and locking her office." She eyes me critically. "Not the usual boyfriend, I see." The receptionist said.

"Oi, you’d better not let her hear you say that. Got a frightful temper when riled. I was Headboy when she was Headgirl. I need some advice." I say.

Well, you must be looking for free advice, since you've waited until closing time," she says snidely.

Hannah enters the room. "Hullo Mr. McMillan. I thought we could discuss your case in the Leaky Cauldron."

She leads me out the door and into Diagon Alley. “That receptionist is quite an old bat.”

"She's Mr. Knightly's niece, and I don't think you should use that term to describe her. She's just seen Neville enough that I'm sure you were a bit of a surprise." We stroll briskly down the alley to The Leaky Cauldron.

“Neville, Neville? Nevillle Longbottom, Professor Sprout’s favorite student? When did that happen Hannah?" I say with an impish grin.

“January." Even in the dusky lighting just before sunset, I can see she's blushing. "We're, . . . together." She says.

“Oi, see what you get when you spend all of your days in the bowels of St. Mungo’s you miss all the good gossip.

“Does he treat you well? Does he love you?” I say.

'Yes, he treats me wonderfully. He's so kind and funny and patient with me. I just have to keep him from being quite so protective sometimes. And he does love me, just like I love him." She says.

“Then he is ok with me. As long as he keeps you smiling like that, it shows me he is worthy of the stars, and you.” I say

We get to the door of The Leaky Cauldron and take a booth in the back.

"You're kind to say that, Ernie. If you walk me home tonight, you can say hullo to Neville yourself."

“I’ll be more than happy to. We haven’t been able to talk for eons it seems, where to start?” I ask.

"Well, those galleons, I mean, don't do it again if you can help it, but don't worry about it, Ernie. They'll either think they are toy money or commemorative coins." she says.

“I felt panic stricken when I found just pounds in my pocket. My family doesn’t deal much with the Muggles. It just worried me.” I shrug. “You will never know who I saw just a couple of days ago. It was Draco Malfoy; he is still such a git that gits wouldn’t touch him with a ten foot pole,” I say.

"I've seen Draco quite a bit. I was on his defence team and am his contract attorney,” she says quietly as if waiting for me to challenge her. She puts up a hand and waves the server over.

“What sounds good to you? I think Shepherd’s pie might go down well with a butter beer,” I suggest.

"Well, I think I'll just have bangers and mash and a mug of cider," she tells the server. The server nods and leaves the table. Hannah turns and looks at me carefully. "You know, I fully expected you to be horrified that I'm Draco's attorney. You surprised me." She smiles softly. "So did you go to the opening of his club? Is that where you saw him?"

"One thing I've learned is that you have to do things professionally that you wouldn't do if you had the choice, for no matter the amount of money in the world. . .You couldn’t pay me enough to patronize his club. Plus I don’t have the time to socialize much and clubs like that needs dates. You know I’m not really successful with the witches.”

“Well, you weren't successful with us. But I have reason to believe you are trying to be successful with someone else. Maybe playing the great man of mystery for someone?" she asks coyly.

With us, it was like kissing my sister. Pleasant but no sparks there.

“Och now, has the Hufflepuff spy network been reporting news yet again?” I ask.

"Of course. Susan and Megan and I keep in close contact. Megan and I figured it out a while ago, but we're keeping our mouths shut and letting someone else enjoy the game,” she laughs softly.

The server comes back and sets our drinks and our dinners before us. Hannah hurriedly tells the server, "Separate checks.”

“Hannah, lass, even on a Healer-Trainee’s salary I can afford dinner. Well now, ‘big sister’ what just gave me away?” I ask.

“But I have a boyfriend, and as long as you're my 'little brother,' I'll pay for myself----now, let's see, the notes seemed to have Ernie written all over them. It was your tone, your seriousness, your sentimentality. How long have you been carrying the torch for her?” she asks

“Now just buying a meal for a friend doesn’t make a date, but a gift. But let’s make you happy, separate checks.

“Probably the end of fifth year; but she always seemed attracted to Justin. But it hit me like a ton of bricks at Harry and Ginny Potter’s reception,” I say.

Damn You Death Eaters!

2007-06-20T14:49:32Z

They took my childhood dream away from me. Whether that be for good or ill fate and time will finally tell. Perhaps I should thank them for opening up a new area I have never thought of—But I choose the former to the latter.

I’ve spent all of my free time lately in the library in the Tower of London. They really need to find a new doorway for the Library…I’m almost sure that a muggle saw me going through the iron maiden on more than once occasion.

I have enjoyed researching in a magical library once again. The only problem I have was that I really can’t use the librarian’s help on one of the topics. “Pardon me, sir, can you show me what books are available on memory charms?” I’ve spent more time than I can really calculate on the history of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad—it’s a good source of history on obliviators. I’m going to have to owl one of the redheaded terrors telling them about my progress. I’m building a ritual that may hold the key to the obliviated mind. Hopefully they remember their promise to get a hold of the manuals to help me.
The good side of spending time in the Library, I did find the techniques for animating toys, taking it one step further. Instead of the body moving, I animated the facial features to show emotions as he talked. I think she will love it, I just wonder what name she will give him. I just hope he makes her smile and think well of me. I think after this gift is sent, it is time to end all of the secrecy. I want more than the written word or stolen smiles observing her from the distance. I need to hear her laugh and feel her touch, knowing this is just for me.

As I said in the beginnings Death Eaters have changed my life. With the escape and Azkaban the bloody fools have taken all of my time for romance or research.

Healer Hollingsworth has the Trainees working thirty-two hour shifts with a four-hour nap sometime during it. Instead of concentrating on our specialties or rotations, we have been concentrating on emergency medicine. Controlling blood loss, emergency amputations and the like.

Healer Pye even brought in a training dummy to use muggle techniques, such as triage. Triage is a method of prioritizing patients from lightly wounded to life threatening. Since a Healer in the field has a limited amount of potions on his person, the use of when to conjure a pressure bandage instead of using a limited number potion that may be needed to save the life of a critical patient later.

In the almost 19 short years of my life, the Death Eaters have changed it greatly. I’ve killed with a non-deadly spell. Now I may have someone’s life in my hands using a technique that I should only perform under the supervision of a Healer because terror and evilness may be on the street. One of these acts robbed me of the last vestiges of my childhood; I wonder what the escape from Azkaban will cost me?

I've Decided

2007-05-08T04:09:51Z

Ever since I heard the music at Harry and Ginny Potter’s wedding reception, their melodies have been running through my mind almost every waking hour. Ok, to tell the truth, it isn’t just the music, it was the musician too. I’d sneak peeks at Susan as she played the piano; the joy of her playing made her very charismatic.

I have to do something about this; will Susan see me as anything else but an old housemate? I just remember following a person around who was wearing a robe similar to hers at the wedding. There was a beautiful brown plait swinging as if blowing in the wind. I discreetly followed the person up 5 floors to the tearoom. When I finally got to where I could see ‘her’ face, was I ever surprised to see that HE had a beard down to his beltline. I NEED TO DO SOMETHING!

My next day off I walked to Eyelops Owl Emporium. I found a handsome large Long-Eared Owl or perhaps he found me; he flew down and landed straight on the top of my head! This showed me he had a sense of pride and fun, maybe one that would remind me that work isn’t all in my life. I held up my hand and he hopped onto my forearm. He hooted at me in almost a Glasgowegian accent that reminded me of my Granddad’s. I rattled off a phrase in the Clan’s tongue and I could see him puff out his chest with pride.

Carrying him around the shop, I chose a sturdy perch and a nice traveling cage. The proprietor laughed as we walked up to the counter. He reached up and removed a couple of feathers from my hair.

“I see you have found what I call our highland owl. He was bought from a breeder just north of Aberdeen. He hasn’t come out of the rafters except
to eat since he has been here,” the man marvelled.

I paid the man and as we walked down the Alley, I mentioned to my new owl, “How about the name Noden. Noden was the old god of healing. What say you?” With a few hoots and bobs of his head, I think he likes his name.

As we passed 82 Diagon Alley I pointed out the door to Noden. You will be going here a lot, lad. Just keep my secret till I can work up my courage, please?” I asked.

We worked our way to St. Mungo’s and I put Noden in the Owlery for a while. I went down to the Apparition point and Apparated to Hogsmeade. I walked into Honeydukes and bought a pound block of dark and one of milk chocolate and a small selection of filled chocolates. (I invested in my own addiction…maybe she will use the block chocolates on the next Puff Girls night out; I’ll get the better part of the deal…) After paying for it, I Apparated back to St. Mungo’s and went to the gift shop and bought a red rose.

One of the good things about working at St. Mungo’s you have a dictation quill available to you to make notes. What I wouldn’t have given for one in Professor Binns’ class for five years. Using the dictation quill I made a short note.

Miss Susan Bones
82 Diagon Alley
London

Dear Miss Bones,

My wizard is shy, but known to you. He wished to send you these things to remind you, the chocolates are to remember the sweeter things in life and the rose is perhaps a promise of what is to come.

Sincerely yours,

Noden the Owl

I’ll stay for a reply if you would like.

Midnights at St. Mungo’s

2007-04-20T05:19:42Z

Traditions die hard in the Wizarding World. From time immortal, Pureblood Families like my own, gave birth at their homes. Shortly before the time of my birth, the healers decided to open a Maternity Ward to ensure the health of the Witches. The younger generation generally has learned to come into the hospital for several check-ups during their three trimesters. With the average pureblooded family getting smaller, every birth is a window into the future. Though with the Muggle-born Witches, however, going to the hospital seemed natural for them to give birth.

Wizards being unique unto themselves, placed the Maternity Ward on the first floor, for “Creature Induced Injuries” very close to the “Dangerous Dai Llewellyn Ward for Serious Bites. Ask the Welcome-Witch on the ground floor, she would be happy to direct you to the proper place.

I’m just a few short weeks out of my ‘dungeon time’ and have spent the last few weeks jumping over the floors of the hospital. I found my niche here in the Maternity Ward; I finally found the area where I can see life beginning. I’ve spent my time taking patient histories and a few simple diagnostic spells I’ve learned. I really don’t know how to interpret all of the information they show me yet, but I spend at least four hours a day studying my books. I’d like to spend more, but with the hours I spend on the floor and working with the Medi-witches I barely find time for sleep. I’ll need fun too, so I’d go with less sleep to spend time with my friends or chase the Witch of my dreams.

I was on a study break about 0230 in the morning. A klaxon sounds and the lamps began to flash signifying that all personnel should report to emergency stations. With me being a trainee, usually is to stay out of the way and take notes on what the fully qualified personnel do so it can be charted appropriately and I can answer questions on the topic. I see a Medi-Witch use Mobilicorpus on a young woman from the lift to an examination room, behind her was the patient’s midwife. They begin a rapid fire exchange of symptoms and possible treatments. I just remember hearing that a baby was beginning to suffer from hypoxia (that’s a lack of oxygen) and a slower than normal heartbeats for infants, this is a very dangerous sign.

My emotions run a gamut as I witness the sight of the exam. There is medically, educationally and amazement. The woman was small in stature about 4’ 10’’, but her stomach looked like she had swallowed whole two quaffles and with the movement, a bludger. I didn’t really know what to think, whether to sit and just stare at the woman in trouble so I can just observe or actually try to do my job.

I’m standing here slack jawed just looking at the whole situation. The quill is hanging from my fingertips, I am thinking, “What am I doing here?” I just don’t know what I should do. Someone’s life could be affected by something I could utter or do? This is the scariest thing I could ever think of. Just as the quill fluttered to the floor, I heard the less than dulcet tones of Fenworthy Jay Hollingsworth, Healer bellow, “Here and now MacMillan inattention could cost lives! Get over here and stand by me, now!”

“MacMillan, I have a twenty-two year old Witch having twins. She is 4’ 10’’ tall and weighs 150 pounds. The first-born baby is exhibiting signs of hypoxia. Name the possible causes,” said Healer Hollingsworth.

I mumbled, “Either a prolapsed cord or the cord around the neck, sir.”

“Correct in fact but lacking in detail, MacMillan, since I have three possible ways of treating this, I need more information. Your spell is still in the committee, but if it works as the synopsis says, you could help me save more than one life!” Hollingsworth said.

You know what the first thing running through my mind at this time was? Not the cool and collected thoughts of a Healer, or the calm notions of the spell’s creator thinking of the wand movements and proper inflections of the incantation. All that was running through my mind in the first few seconds was “Oi Ernie, you have to pee!”

I step forward to see the writhing belly of the young woman. I reach into a belt pouch at the small of my back and pull a small phial of mineral oil and pour it on her stomach. With a few quick movements of my hand, her stomach was covered. I incanted, “Sonitus-adludo-maginor.”

Above her stomach, you could see the image of one child floating above her stomach with the cord wrapped around the baby’s neck. You can see the heart beating inside his chest. It is amazing! You can even see his twin’s heartbeat underneath the anterior twin. I moved the wand around her stomach to give Healer Hollingsworth all the views possible. Under unidentifiable items, I looked with awe. I see a third heartbeat; at least I think it is a third heartbeat.

“Healer Hollingsworth, I think I see three babies!” I said. I showed him the three heartbeats and he looked at the images intently.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Douglas, you have triplets!” Healer Hollingsworth said.

“Out of the way MacMillian . We have babies to bring into the world.” Growled Hollingsworth.

“Team Red, time for an emergency cesarean birth!” Bellowed Hollingsworth.

With a quick wave of my wand to sterilize my clothing, I tried to get close to the patient without getting in the way of the team. After all it was ‘my’ spell that allowed the proper diagnosis.

Her stomach is sterilized with a minor scourgify and a tonsoria spell to remove the hair. I see Hollingsworth mutter a spell and a beam comes out of his wand. The skin of her stomach splits as if she were cut with a knife. About the time I notice her blood is running freely from her wound, I am reminded not only do I have to pee, but I have to pee NOW! Well, I will admit, getting away from the blood is a big plus.

After I the emergency loo run, I clean and sterilize my hands and clothing. I walk into the delivery room.
I see the first baby emerge from her body. I’m a member of the team to care for it. He is a boy weighing four pounds twelve ounces; sixteen and three-quarters inches long. After we clean him up, he is looking like a real little human being. Bushy brown hair, bright blue eyes and a touch of a scowl, I think he doesn’t like being cold or in the light. He is perfect, I notice his fingerprints and the length of his foot is about the length of my first finger. I’m holding his hand now, looking at the tiny nails and he grasps my finger amazingly tight. After I do the simple diagnostic spells I know, I discuss the results with the Medi-Witches and they tell me what I already knew, except for being small, he is healthy and tired.

I look in on the other two babies. The second one born is the twin to the first, identical if a bit smaller in mass than his brother. He is handsome and healthy but not quite as handsome or healthy as ‘my’ baby in the left bassinet.

The third child born looks healthy, but I can’t really tell. He has seven workers around him. He looks the size of the average child’s doll. I hope he will be ok. His size is easily explained with his two brothers, he really didn’t have much room to grow. I walk back to ‘my’ baby.

We take care of him for the next two or so hours and I turn him over to the Medi-Witches so I can do my paperwork. Thank Merlin for the dictation quill. My handwriting is all right when I’m wide-awake but turns into a chicken walking across the parchment when I’m tired. I just hope my hypothesis of the release of two eggs and one split to make the twins, and the single were fertilized at the same time.

I went to the nursery to check on ‘my’ baby and his brothers before I went home for the day. I saw a tall Wizard looking through the nursery window. Holding out his hand he grasped mine and pumped it thoroughly. “Hello Healer, I’m Robert Douglas. I want to introduce you to my three sons, Robert Jr., Charles and Stephen.” I congratulated Mr. Douglas and took a look at ‘my’ baby Robert. The first new life I held in my hands. I will always remember April 20, 1999.