07

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15/02/2001
Emergency Room, Newton Abbot Community Hospital, Devon
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[ d e a l p t . 1 ]

"KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN! THERE ARE MUGGLES HERE!"

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"KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN! THERE ARE MUGGLES HERE!"

George gaped and whisper-yelled, "What in Godric's holy name do you think you're doing?!"

Elinor sighed.

She knew.

She knew that George Weasley wasn't stupid, considering his legacy of brilliant pranks throughout his school years, so it wouldn't be hard for him to put the puzzle pieces together.

The 'accident' or 'cause of (cough, fake, cough) Amnesia' three years ago was actually the Battle of Hogwarts. The probable cause of her current SAH state would be the result of an unprofessional healer's handiwork, while the miraculous three years of survival suggested that the healer wasn't totally brainless.

"—going to let some Muggle doctor cut through your scalp, drill a hole in your skull, and pinch a leaking blood vessel in your freaking brain? Are you seriously considering that option?!"

"Then what am I supposed to do? Rot, let it rupture, and die?"

George groaned, running a finger through his hair, "No! Go to St. Mungo's! The healers can fix you up in no time without exposing your brain to polluted air!"

"I told you, I don't associate myself with your kind anymore. No wand, no magic, no healer," Elinor bitterly replied.

"Our kind," George corrected, "You're not dying of brain injury, you are dying of stupidity."

"Hey!"

"Listen. The healers may not did their work properly last time, but it does keep you alive for three years. We know great ones at St. Mungo's. They will save you with nearly 0% mortality rate."

"No."

"Elinor."

"Monsieur Weasley."

"Ellie."

"No!" Elinor whisper-yelled back, "I don't believe in magic anymore!"

"What do you mean you don't believe in magic?! You saw the flying knife yesterday!"

"I know it still exists, but I don't have any faith in magic. Not now, not in the future. So, if you could leave and pretend you don't know anything, I would be eternally grateful."

"Your eternity will end today if you're taking the surgery. I can't, on good conscience, walk away from this! I'm still a good person, okay?"

"No, not okay!"

"Give me some time to convince you, then! A few months—"

"Two minutes!" The curtain was thrown open in such a dramatic force that both Elinor and George unconsciously jerked on their spots. Cameron was the first to reenter their sight, saying, "He has an empty slot in two days. Is that okay? If you're okay, let's call Auntie Bielle."

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