Based on the Harry Potter Series By J. K. Rowling
Chapter 37 “ A Healer And A Cave
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After six hour of nearly continuous talking, interrupted only once for a brief lunch break, Peter Martin’s parents put an end to the “interviews.” It was just as well, the nine wizards and witches were having a difficult time comprehending the magnitude of the story Peter was telling. There was no question whether Peter was being honest or not; no Muggle could possibly have created such a story, and in such detail. In addition to the sheer size of the story, too many mysteries from the history of magic had been answered. No single person present could verify all the facts as they had been presented with, but their combined knowledge was sufficient to verify the truthfulness of what they had just heard.
Much to the annoyance of the younger wizards present, the older group excused themselves to another room. Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione sat with glum faces reminiscent of their initial exclusion from the Order of the Phoenix three years before. Patty Lee had remained with the Martin’s out of choice; besides, she was embarrassed that she was still digging soot out of her ears from the previous evening.
Molly and Arthur Weasley, Mad-Eye Moody, Minerva McGonagall, and Remus Lupin had excluded the “youngsters” more for physical convenience than their clearly demonstrated abilities. Congregating in a small conference room, they began a lively brainstorming session. Minerva McGonagall did not participate in the discussions, she was making herself useful repairing Dumbledore’s portrait. The frame had been crushed but the canvas was torn only once, diagonally from the upper left to the lower right corners. The coarsely woven canvas was not difficult to repair, but it was a tedious job. McGonagall did not appear to be bothered by the work; still, she hoped that the wizard’s absence from the portrait did not signify a wasted effort on her part.
After nearly an hour spent throwing out ideas and suggestions, the adults realized that they were at an impasse. All the ideas and all the suggestions were useless until they had the rest of the translation; and no one was comfortable bringing Keric Albemarle into their confidence after his resistance to continue the translations. According to Hermione, there were about ten pages remaining in Dover needing to be translated from Latin to English. They were hoping against hope that these missing pages would give them insight into what was happening, or even a way to stop the rapidly deteriorating situation.
With sullen finality, the adults adjourned themselves with their only significant decision being to help Minerva repair the portrait and have Moody feel out Albemarle on his position. With that “decision” made, Moody Floo’d to Dover, Molly stayed with Minerva, and Remus and Arthur returned to see if the “youngsters” had found something they missed.
While the adults were meeting, Fred and George had startled their group by announcing that Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes was temporarily suspending all operation. No one really had to guess at the reason, since the prior October the failure rate of most of the company’s goods had jumped to over seventy percent. The twins were spending nearly all their time refunding disgruntled patrons, hoping the situation would improve. A far more disturbing extrapolation of this small problem was what would happen world-wide if all magic failed. The million or so witch and wizard run businesses around the globe also faced partial or complete failure. However, global economic collapse was not the topic at the “youngsters” table while the adults were off discussing their issues.
The younger group traded ideas about the significance of some passages. They tried to locate Merlin’s various homes on a map but only succeeded in finding London and Carlisle. The frustration they all felt was weighing heavily by the time Arthur and Remus returned.
By Sunday evening everyone was mentally exhausted and ready to drop in bed. Ron and Hermione had taken Patty home with them. For obvious reasons, she did not want to spend the night at her apartment, so Hermione went with her to pick up a few things and then got her settled in the spare room on the second floor. Ginny returned to St. Mungo’s to check on Harry and Percy one last time; Arthur accompanied her for the short trip and then saw her back to her room.
Moody met with Keric Albemarle late that evening but returned to Hogwarts rather than passing through the Burrow. He planned to notify everyone, meaning the adults, if something turned up. Not having received an owl, Remus, Arthur, Molly, and Minerva assumed that Moody had had no luck. Remus returned to the flat he and Tonks were renting until the “situation” stabilized and Minerva worked on the portrait until late that night, and then returned to her home in Scotland.
Sitting up for a while after her father brought her back to the Burrow, Ginny thought of her new job starting the next day. Her excitement was overshadowed by Harry’s absence and the general uncertainty surrounding her. After reading for a while, Ginny drifted off into a troubled sleep that left her neither rested nor refreshed when she awoke the next morning.
Kingsley Shacklebolt met Ginny outside 10 Downing Street the next morning at nine-thirty. Putting on her best face for her new job did not stop Shacklebolt from noticing Ginny’s fatigued look.
“Good morning, Miss Weasley,” Shacklebolt said. “Please follow me; we have some paperwork to fill out.”
This statement startled Ginny a bit. She had discussed with Mrs. Thompson her requirement for no such records. Entering the house and handing their coats to a maid, Shacklebolt led Ginny to his small office, closing the door behind them.
Before Shacklebolt could say anything, Ginny noted their previous meeting. “Kingsley, I understood there was not going to be any paperwork with this job.”
“There isn’t, I just used that excuse for the other guards to hear. I wanted to speak with you about your appearance.”
“What? Is this outfit inappropriate?” Ginny was tired and not a little miffed by Kingsley’s accusation.
“Not at all, Miss Weasley. I was referring to your face more than anything. You look tired and worried. Is there something I need to know?” When Ginny just stared and did not answer, Shacklebolt continued to express his concerns. “I’m responsible for the members of this household as well as its staff. If someone comes to work with a problem they leave until the problem is fixed. You obviously have a problem. I would rather not boot you out of here on your first day, so either convince me you’re fine or tell me why I should not be concerned.”
Startled by this professional side of Shacklebolt, which she had never seen, Ginny nodded and told him about Harry. Shacklebolt knew enough about the Weasley family’s situation to understand Ginny’s concern. When she admitted to a poor night’s sleep, Shacklebolt told her he accepted the explanation, but would pull her out of the house the moment he saw any sign of a problem. Ginny thanked him and they headed up to the second Floor.
Mary Thompson was having tea in the dining room when Shacklebolt escorted Ginny into the room. Bowing, he told Ginny “good luck,” and smiled as he left.
“Well, Ginny, are you ready for your first day?” Mary asked pleasantly.
“Yes, Mrs. Thompson...” Ginny was excited, but her voice was still a little shaky.
“Ginny, call me ‘Mary’ up here. Now, would you like some tea?”
Accepting the offer, Mary and Ginny began to talk in detail about the expectations and responsibilities of the position. Mary made it perfectly clear to Ginny that for her first thirty days she was on probation and could resign or be sacked with no explanation. Seeing a startled look in Ginny’s eyes, Mary soothed her fears by telling Ginny that these were not common events. They walked through the entire second Floor, Mary pointing out places which neither Ginny nor Rebecca could play. Ending their walk at Rebecca’s room, they found the child playing with dolls and talking to herself.
“Well, here you are, Ginny. Snacks are in the kitchen and when you get hungry just ring the kitchen for lunch. Rebecca usually eats about noon then naps for an hour or so at one o’clock. Emergency numbers are by all the phones and, of course, you will have Kingsley watching over you from time to time. Any questions?” Having none, Ginny thanked Mary and tried to keep herself calm. Walking back into Rebecca’s room, Ginny was about to find out what working a real job was like.
After a busy morning with Rebecca, Ginny rang for lunch and they were both served in the dining room. Kingsley had appeared only once during the morning and Ginny was feeling more and more comfortable as the day passed. When lunch was finished, Ginny took Rebecca to her room and sat on her bed, preparing for the child’s nap. Rebecca climbed into bed and held onto her new friend while Ginny read a book about a Helicopter named “Budgie,” written by Sarah Ferguson. By the end of the story Rebecca was still awake, though her eyes were drooping. Ginny shifted herself in the bed and pulled the child into her arms, kissing the top of her head and then touching Rebecca’s forehead, sending her into a peaceful sleep.
When Mary Thompson looked in on Rebecca and Ginny a short while later, she saw her daughter next to Ginny, sleeping soundly. Ginny was awake, looking down at Rebecca with a smile on her face, reading a small pile of children’s books. When she noticed Mary at the door, Ginny waved for her to come in.
“Ginny, you don’t have to stay with Rebecca while she sleeps. Feel free to get up and take a break.” Whispering what was hardly an admonition, Mary was glad to see their new sitter so interested.
“Oh, that’s all right, Mary. I was the youngest of seven and never had a baby brother or sister to read to. It’s kinda comforting.” Ginny was watching Rebecca the entire time she spoke, not wanting to take her eyes off of the child.
Mary sat on the far end of the bed, impressed with Ginny’s devotion. She and Brian had had many others watch Rebecca over the years. The ones that were not spies sent by his political rivals or the tabloids had never shown this dedication; it was a welcome change.
“Mary, can I ask you a personal question? Actually, it’s about Becca.”
“Certainly. Is it about her condition? That’s always the first question.”
“Not exactly, I was curious about children with Down Syndrome in general. We don’t have this condition in our world.” Forgetting for a moment that she was in a Muggle home, Ginny looked up to be sure there was no one around to overhear her remarks.
Mary stared back at Ginny, not sure if she had heard correctly what Ginny had said. “You don’t have mental handicaps? None at all?”
Ginny had returned her attention to Rebecca. “No, I haven’t learned why, yet, but there are no cases of Down Syndrome and other similar birth defects among wizards.” Ginny had whispered the last word. “I’ve decided to study our version of medicine and become a Healer, that’s like a doctor. Our Healers use a combination of potions, spells, and other mental powers to handle health care. We also use much more preventive care than any Muggle society. I believe you have a saying: ‘An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure’.”
Fascinated by the information Ginny was sharing, Mary continued to prompt her. “What do you mean when you say that Healers have mental powers?”
Carefully choosing her words, Ginny explained what she knew about the subject. “Different Healers possess various types of sensitivities to health issues. This skill can even extend beyond their ability to sense a problem to actually curing it. You might think of it as a ‘faith healing,’ but that’s not really accurate because we don’t invoke God’s name to heal. It’s hard to explain, but, for example, a Healer who has a specialty in nerve disorders would be able to sense where a nerve problem exists and perhaps even repair the problem by laying their hands on the patient. How that happens is a mystery to us, but it works.”
“That’s incredible, what sort of Healers do you have?”
“Well, all Healers study general healing techniques. Specialists are apprenticed through a master Healer to further develop their specific skill. Some specialize in orthopedics, some in cardiology; much the same as the specialties you’re familiar with. We even have Healers specializing in mental and emotional disorders, but since we have almost no problems in that area we have few Healers in that specialty.”
“Does a Healer automatically know if they have a specialty, or do they find out as they study?”
“By the time they are an adolescent, the person has a good idea what direction they want to go. They can usually feel where their strengths lie.” Ginny was trying to keep her voice down, Rebecca was stirring and she knew Mary had more questions.
“When did you find out you wanted to be a Healer?”
“I think I always favored the profession, but it wasn’t until last April that I knew. Over the past few months I came to find the area where I wanted to specialize. I was able to perform a healing of a badly injured person. That helped me get started.”
“If it’s not too personal, may I ask, what was the injury you healed?”
“The patient was my fiancé, Harry. He had suffered a number of severe mental injuries last April and was in a coma for a week.” Ginny intentionally left out Harry’s role in the war. “At the time I didn’t realize what I was doing, but the hospital director did, and she has suggested that I look into specializing in mental and emotional disorders.”
Ginny was staring at Mary as she answered the last question. Still holding Rebecca, Ginny had one hand on her chest and another caressing her brow. Mary took in the scene before her, the way Ginny was holding her daughter, the intensity of her answers, but most of all her hands. Mary asked another question.
“Ginny, when you heal a person, do you just touch them?”
Ginny looked back down at Rebecca. “No, Mary, it’s more than that. You hold them, place them in a deep sleep by touching their forehead like this.” Ginny showed Mary by touching Rebecca on her brow. The child who had just been stirring suddenly returned to a deep sleep. “And my personal technique is to place my left hand around the patient, like this.” Again, Ginny held her left hand out for Mary to see and then returned it to Rebecca’s chest. “And with my right hand I touch the affected area. In Harry’s care it was his head.” Ginny slowly placed her right hand on Rebecca’s misshapen forehead.
Again, Ginny was staring at Mary, but Mary only saw where Ginny had placed her hands. After a few seconds, Mary rose and closed Rebecca’s bedroom door. Sitting down, she continued her questions; the look on Ginny’s face had invited more.
“And of course, this only works with...witches and wizards?”
“No, with Muggles, too, depending on the circumstances.”
“You’re allowed to treat Muggles?” Mary asked this as if she did not believe it.
“No. If the Ministry of Magic found out I had done something like that I could be jailed.” The smile on Ginny’s face said she was not planning to be caught.
“But you DO treat Muggles?”
“No, I’ve never done that, but the Healer I spoke about has. It caused her lots of problems but she’s still here in London; she’s the director of our hospital. I have some notes on treating Muggles which she gave me. They’re very interesting and helpful.” Again, Mary felt Ginny staring at her, this time even without looking.
“Yes, I guess they would be.” Mary said absently. Finding herself perspiring even though the room was quite cool, Mary was shaken by the implication Ginny was making. But it couldn’t be! And the danger to Ginny sounded enormous.
“Why?” The question sounded so pathetic and inadequate, but it was all Mary could think of saying. In fact, she was not even sure what her interrogative was addressing. Ginny knew.
“Why would a witch risk her life for a Muggle?”
“Yes.”
“Does it really matter? Harry risked his life for seven years to save Muggles and Wizards alike. I think our Minister of Magic has forgotten that.”
There was a long pause before Mary asked her next question. “Ginny, if a person, a Muggle, were to ask you to heal them, would you do it?”
“If they asked me, yes, I would; but I couldn’t heal a child without the parent’s permission.” Emphasizing the last phrase, Ginny saw Mary gasp; she had finally realized where the entire conversation was going and what was being offered. Now Ginny had just one more question to prompt from Mary.
“You must know of a Muggle who needs healing. Perhaps I could help her?” The gentle question Ginny phrased had intentionally contained the feminine pronoun “her.” The effect on Mary was staggering, but not quite what Ginny expected. For a moment she thought Mary would swoon. Instead, she rose, shaking visibly, and exited the room. As she walked down the hallway Ginny could hear her gasping and fighting back sobs. She hoped with all her heart that Mary’s tears were tears of joy.
“I don’t care, Patty. I’m going to get those bloody documents; Ron can come with me or stay here with you, but I’m going.”
Hermione and Patty had been arguing all morning about sneaking off to Dover and retrieving the last portion of the un-translated story. She knew Ron would go with her to protect her, but he could not get into the “cave” without a badge, and there was no way to get one without Albemarle knowing about it. The argument ended abruptly when Keric appeared, telling Patty she had to go back to Dover to speak with some Muggle detectives. Hermione offered to go with her but Albemarle refused to let her leave. Shrugging her shoulders, Patty grabbed her coat and left Ron and Hermione to continue their wait.
Ron was bored out of his mind. He had nothing to do other than walk around the halls looking for trouble that did not exist. Hermione was almost as wound up as Ron. Harry had not left Percy’s mind now for almost twenty-four hours and that seemed like plenty of time to find out what was going on. Finally, unable to handle her anxiety, Hermione grabbed Ron and went for a walk in Muggle London. Knowing that it would be suggested soon anyway, Hermione led Ron into a local pub for lunch. An hour later, no less anxious, the couple returned to the office to find a note from Patty on Hermione’s desk.
Hermione, please come to the ladies room, I’m not feeling well. Patty
Running to the loo, Hermione had to stop Ron from following her; then she entered and called for Patty.
“I’m in here, Hermione. Just a sec.”
“Are you feeling better?”
“No, oh, I’m ok.” Opening one of the stall doors, Patty exited, looking fine and carrying a small stack of paper and the translation quills.
“Patty! You didn’t?” Hermione grabbed Patty and hugged her; she was carrying the last ten pages of the story. She had grabbed them from their Dover office after finishing at her apartment.
“Hermione, there were no detectives at my place. All I can imagine is that Keric sent me there knowing I would go for the documents. Do you think we should tell him?”
“No, not now. Let’s see what they say first.”
“I have them partly complete; you can start reading them while I finish the last few pages, if you like.” Patty’s grin told Hermione that there was some good information to be found.
Hermione finished reading the first seven pages and Ron brought over the last three. Not even acknowledging Ron, Hermione started reading the last three pages. In a few minutes she took off at a run. Ron and Patty followed her into the building reading room where she looked through the small reference section and pulled out an atlas. Paging to the section on England, Hermione gazed at the map for a minute then slammed the book shut, taking off again at a run. This time she told Ron and Patty to “Follow me.”
Three blocks later, Hermione finally turned off Regent Street on to Pall Mall, then a block later another right into St. James Square. Ron saw Hermione run into a building: The London Library. Gasping for breath, Patty jogged up to Ron who was waiting for her.
“Hermione just...ran into the...library. Merlin, I hate it...when she gets...like this.” Ron was pointing to an old building that had no outward indication that it was a library. They entered and went to the reference section, assuming correctly that Hermione was looking for something here that the office atlas did not have. Finding her a minute later, Hermione had already pulled half a dozen large atlases off the shelves.
“Ron, Patty, here! Take...these and turn to northern...England and Scotland.” Hermione was out of breath also but still plowing through the books at full speed. In just a few minutes there was a small mountain of books on the Floor next to her and the librarians were eying the trio with disgruntled looks.
“Here!” Hermione shouted in triumph, a little too loudly. “Look at this.” Motioning to Ron and Patty, Hermione suddenly realized she was in a Muggle library and ran out of the library, still holding the book. Ron was aghast, Hermione pinch a book? But he had no time to think, grabbing Patty’s hand, he sprinted out of the library, with three staff members calling for them to stop. Dragging Patty the last two blocks to the Ministry building, Ron was happy to see that Hermione had stopped in the entranceway, holding her side.
“Hermione, what the bloody hell are you doing?” Patty yelled before Ron had the chance.
Still unable to speak, Hermione pointed to the building and started walking in as calmly as she could with Ron and Patty following. Proceeding to their Floor, Hermione passed her desk and walked a bit further to a small meeting room. When everyone was in she shut the door and sat down.
All three were out of breath, but Hermione was opening the atlas to the map of northern England.
“Here! Carlisle. This was in the story, by Merlin’s cave.” After another pause to catch her breath, Hermione did something Ron never believed she would do. Reaching behind her, she grabbed a dry-erase marker and started drawing in the book. “Merlin said he traveled to Carlisle. Here.” She placed an “X” on the city.
“He said it took him two days to get there. If he traveled about fifteen to twenty miles a day his range would be about here.” Looking at the scale on the map, Hermione then drew a circle around Carlisle with a diameter of seventy miles.
“But, what if he didn’t walk the entire way? He probably had to walk the last day into the town, but look here.” Tracing four lines out of Carlisle along squiggling blue lines, the map was starting to look like a crippled spider.
“There are four rivers that flow into Carlisle or the immediate vicinity. The Esk, here. The Lyne, here. The Eden, here. And the Caldew, here. But the Caldew and Eden are not navigable. So if someone could walk twenty miles a day they could probably boat fifty or sixty miles. Now look what Merlin’s range of travel over two covers.” Hermione traced the Lyne River to the northeast, away from Carlisle, about fifty miles. Then, looking at Ron, “Ron, watch this.” She traced a line up the Esk River, ending in the middle of nowhere. But it was not quite nowhere.
“BRILLIANT, HERMIONE, YOU’RE BLOODY BRILLIANT! Ron jumped up and threw his arms around his wife, then he grabbed Patty, too, who was completely lost by Ron’s exuberance.
“Ron, thank you, but this only shows us, oh, Patty, sorry.” Hermione had looked at her co-worker and realized she had no idea why she and Ron were so happy.
“Patty, the description of the journey Merlin made could have placed his home in the area of our school, Hogwarts. Of course the school wasn’t there at the time, but for centuries there was a cave underneath it known as the Chamber of Secrets. I wonder if this is the same cave Merlin spoke about, where he lived for years, raising his family and practiced magic.”
“Oi, Hermione, and remember his description of the area around the cave? The mountains and hills, the small village and the lake. It all fits.” Ron was grinning, proud at the connection he had made. Hermione, however, had a stern look on her face.
“Ronald, how did you know about this part of the story?” Hermione asked cautiously.
“I read it in your notes. Why?” Ron did not understand Hermione’s problem with him reading the notes.
“Ronald, these are classified papers. You could be put in prison for reading them; don’t ever read my work again...” Ron’s smile deflated and he looked stricken with Hermione’s words, but then she smiled and kissed him, “After today, that is.”
As Ron’s smile was returning, Hermione kept moving. “Now, I have to show Moody this part of the story. You two want to Floo up to Hogwarts with me?” Hermione was still so excited she was having trouble gathering up the atlas and her notes. Finally getting everything picked up, she ran out the door toward her cube.
Behind her, Ron and Patty were groaning. “No more Running, Hermione.”
Harry and Snape sat, thinking about the story they had read and the significance of the last few pages they could not read; but what they were more concerned about was how Percy and Peter’s accident had caused the cascading failures of magic.
One of the major clues they needed to solve the puzzle was just one wish away, and Harry was the first to make it.
Fatigued by a long day, even before he had come into Merlin’s world, Harry lay down on the grass to relax. Snape stood, staring down at him. He looked little like the Severus Snape Harry had come to know over the years. His features were younger and his perpetual sarcasm was greatly curbed. He was still Snape, but something had changed him; Harry was just too tired to care at that point.
“Well, Harry, what should we do?” Snape asked, with more concern than panic.
“I don’t know about you,” Harry said sleepily, “but I wish I were home in a soft bed.” Nodding off to sleep, Harry was startled awake and found himself laying on a soft down mattress in a house he had never seen before. Snape was nowhere to be seen.