The Black Sheep | George Weasley

Fifty-Eight

Lyra rushed up to Louisa and a boy named Eddy. They were standing in the long corridor discussing a lecture they had and giving tips on homework.

"Hey guys!" Lyra greeted with a grin. "How's the patient in 301?"

"She threw her soup at my head." Eddy replied.

"She thought he was a Death Eater coming to get her." Louisa injected, trying not to giggle, but failing in the process. "Her whole family died in the first wizard war."

Healer Sallow started strutting down the corridor, everyone grew rigid at the sight of him. He gave Lyra a throw away look.

"Why aren't you on the first floor, Miss Malfoy?" He questioned roughly.

"Oh! Uh-"

"Get going, now! Room 145!"

"Y-yes, Sir!" Lyra rushed away and dashed down the staircase, not bothering with the lift.

Lyra pushed open the heavy door, covered in a sheen of sweat. She was extremely out of breath as she arrived to the 'Dangerous' Dai Llewellyn Ward: Serious Bites. She noticed she was getting judgemental glances from the blonde receptionist. Lyra was really out of shape. Maybe she could join in on a run with Alicia. But she knew herself well enough by now that the chances of that was very low.

Lyra politely waved at the trainee healer, Augustus Pye. He was in his late twenties and his hair was starting to thin at the top. He was a nice man, a little eccentric, but that just made him a good helper.

Once you graduate from the internship, you are a trainee for eight years, then you graduate to becoming an certified healer (within that is ranks). Lyra's training and studying isn't over in six months, no, she might be studying forever. She will have to stay tuned to new discoveries and treatments. She will never stop being academic.

"Good morning, Mr. Pye." She waved.

"Ah, Miss Malfoy. Working hard?" He asked as he looked over paperwork on his clipboard.

"Constantly," Lyra smirked as she walked up to the correct door. "Have a good day, sir."

The room was quite small, fitting three beds. Only one was occupied. By the state of the angry purple growth on the woman's arm, she was bitten by a doxy. She was hollering and crying out. The poison would feel like molten lava in her veins. Lyra didn't envy her, but she remembered something she learned.

She walked up to Healer Hippocrates Smethwyck who seemed to be talking to another trainee healer about the case.

"Excuse me, sir." Lyra said, feeling sweat collect above her brow.

The old man looked over at her as if she was interrupting something important, perhaps she was. "Yes..." He squinted at her nametag "Malloy?" Lyra heard the trainee snicker.

"Sir, I once heard that doxy bites can-"

"How do you know it's a doxy bite?" He seemed surprised.

"Er, by the lesion, sir. It's quite distinctive."

"You are quite right. You are the only bloody intern who seems to have their wits about 'em. My intern had no clue what a doxy even was." He seemed very irritated.

"Right... Well, I heard that Chinese fireball dragon's blood can help soothe the bite. It can numb the pain that the poison causes until the poultice can be prepared."

"Where did you hear this?" He seemed taken aback once again. "That's correct."

"My old professor Kettleburn, sir." She responded.