𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎. fred weasley

𝚡𝚕𝚒𝚒. 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚑 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜

✦✧✦

The first thing Cress notices is the food. It's bland and has a weird texture when she eats it, almost like it's not actually food. The Healer that gives it to her sends Cress a smile like he's feeding her a gourmet meal and not the equivalent to dog food. Cress tries to choke it down anyway. She only gets it because she's new; Augie's already said someone — a patient — cooks meals for them.

The second thing she notices are the bare walls. They're a bland white that reflect the bright balls of light illuminated in the air. Cress has been to a Muggle hospital before, back when Axel caught a virus while she was visiting him and his nanny, Arlene, all but shoved him in the back of a fancy car and sped them both to the emergency room. She knows that the wizards took the idea from the Muggle hospitals, but she didn't think she'd hate it so much.

Mostly, she hates it because instead of the lights that were strung up on the ceiling, connected by wires and lit with electricity, there are giant orbs of luminosity that don't end. There's no beginning or end, just an endless, agonizing stream of brightness that burned her retinas. She has stared at them for far too long during her first week in St. Mungo's, and stars blinked their way into her mind and they wouldn't leave for hours afterwards.

The third thing she notices is how loud her floor is. It's not as though it's their fault, of course; she's on the fifth floor -- Undesirables -- so there is bound to be some mayhem.

She just didn't think that the Healers (a generous description since there's only one Healer and three house elves that barely visit) would allow everyone to hear each other struggling. They have a means to prevent it, but every night Cress is woken up by someone -- either Cyprien Royle or Tottie Chambers, bless their souls -- screaming or the walls rumbling with the energy of obscured magic.

She doesn't ask Augie about it, at first. Mostly, she goes through her day in a routine -- wake up at seven; eat breakfast; practice magic until the afternoon; have a meal; downtime; group therapy every Monday and Wednesday; dinner, then lights out at eight -- and shoves a pillow over her head to ward off the shrill shrieks.

When it begins to grow worrisome, when Cress fears that Cyprien is going to lose his voice completely, she asks Augie about it.

"Why don't the Healers do anything to help the other patients?" she asks when they finish practicing magic.

There is a gleam of sweat on Cress's brow that she wipes off. She places her wand on the bedside table, flinching uncomfortably as the black veins on her arms retreat. Augie stashes her own wand in her back pocket and regards Cress with soft eyes.

"I don't have an answer for that, Cress," she informs her, shaking her head softly. Then, with a scoff, "I've tried to speak with them about it for a while now, but no one has ever done anything, and since I'm not officially a Healer on this floor, I have no say as to how they treat the patients."