Potter

Epilogue: Part 1/7

October 1999

While it certainly didn't help with the nightmares, at least my stomach had long stopped swirling at the sight of blood on my hands.

At the end of my shifts, whenever that would end up being, I'd peel off the gloves I was wearing and scrub my hands until the water had either become too cold or too hot to handle. Cleaning spells were used to clean anything from my robes throughout the day, but my hands simply shifted from one pair of gloves to another until I took my break or was about to leave, having completed my shift for the day. 

"I have one more hour," Theo, who worked nine-to-nine rather than my preferred eight-to-eight, groaned beside me. He pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and dunked his hands under the ice water, scrubbing furiously despite the lack of anything dirty on them before it was time to reach for a new pair of gloves.

While I was leaving for the day, he was only finishing up a ten minute break.

"What floor are you on today?"

He let out a huff. "Creature-Induced Injuries. Some poor witch got herself a murtlap bite."

My nose crinkled, and I offered him a sympathetic pat on the arm. "I think I have a shift there next Tuesday."

"It's a joy," he assured dryly, drying off his hands with his wand, and mine when I held them out to him. "Do you still have Spell Damage for Friday night?"

"Mm-hm."

"So do I," Theo said to my relief– while our hours often coincided, it was tricky to end up working on the same floor despite our best efforts. We'd gotten lucky for Friday– no one else ever wanted to work Spell Damage on a Friday, much less a twelve-hour night shift– but Theo and I worked together too little to pass up the opportunity. 

It was an extra shift to our three-a-week schedule: one eight hour shift, two twelve hour. The occasional extra if we saw fit to take it, though my willingness to do so was slowing with the weeks that passed. As one of my twelve hours was normally a night shift,  and the hours I got to spend at home dwindled, my appreciation for the quiet had greatly increased.

In between the little breaks I'd get during my day, I'd envision a beach, a large white bed and nothing but the sound of waves on a beach. Then I'd have some new assignment or patient thrown my way, and the memories would have to be pushed to the back of my mind.

"Are you and Luna still coming for dessert tomorrow night?" I asked, shrugging my Healer's robes off in favor of pulling on wool grey peacoat over my top. The autumn sun outside was fading and showing less and less as summer turned to fall, and already winter was beginning to blow through the streets, taking short sleeves with it. Theo nodded.

"Of course we are," he told me, rolling his eyes. "I left wine for tomorrow at the apartment– if you feel so inclined, you can go pick it up tomorrow. As it's your day off and you convinced me to take a six to six, it only seems fair."

"Can't have you over if you're working a later shift," I sang knowingly. "How come you can't get it?"

"If I stop by the apartment, I might crash on the couch and fall straight asleep."

"Ah." I nodded, pulling my satchel off a hook and sliding it across my shoulders. "I'll make sure to get it, then."

"Thank you," he sang, offering me a small salute before heading for the door we'd both walked through, back into the busy halls of St. Mungo's and their disasters. I rolled my eyes as I stepped out the opposite door, the one that lead directly to the fireplace-filled lobby.