InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I wear my sunglasses at night."

Charlotte Montgomery (painisrelative) wrote in amortentiarpg,
@ 2008-10-02 13:29:00

Entry tags:

charlotte montgomery, miranda montague

Who: Charlotte Montgomery & Miranda Montague.
Where: St. Mungo's.
When: Evening.
What: Trouble. Miranda has a medical emergency and, incidentally, Charlotte is the Healer in charge.
Rating: Possibly PG-ish for language.
Status: Incomplete.

For once, Charlotte's shift in the emergency ward was passing without any major hassles. Well, of course, "hassle" was always a relative word - they were still medical emergencies in a magical hospital - but, at least, this time there were no weirdos half-transfigured into runespoors running amok trying to bite her arm off, nor people magically glued to murderous banshees, nor berserk fire-breathing grannies. Currently, she had just finished patching up a ten-year-old boy who had been trampled by stampeding hippogriffs - which was a very unfortunate occurrence, surely, but still nothing extraordinary. The poor child was still in shock and quite hurt, but he was going to be all right.

After having a quiet word with the fretting father (who, apparently, was more worried about having to tell his wife and face her wrath than about the boy himself) and passing all the needed information to the Healer who would be in charge from then on, Charlotte made her way to leave the Creature-Induced Injuries ward. And just as she was stealing a fleeting glance at her watch - still two hours and a half to go, she noted - the young Healer was hit sharply on the forehead by an Emergency Notification Memo. One of those. Charlotte scowled as the bright red parchment airplane fluttered madly around her head and pecked her repeatedly like a bad version of a Hitchcockian bird - and damn the creative someone who had that idea - until she finally managed to snag the annoying thing and pry it open to read-

Witch - 20s - possible head trauma.

Without sparing a second, she stuffed the memo into a pocket and rushed down the corridor, reaching St. Mungo's entrance only few instants later. But as she laid her eyes on the incoming patient, Charlotte hesitated. Ah. So much for the uneventful evening. Of all people in the world, the witch was Miranda Montague.

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unblushing
2008-10-03 01:47 am UTC (link)

Of all the nights for Miranda to be rushed to St. Mungo’s, this was probably the most ironic.

Having worked the closing shift for three nights in a row, the rough-and-tough Slytherin had finally managed to talk her boss into letting her leave early this evening – and then five minutes before she was going to be free this happened. A bar fight. It was the usual rigamarow; one guy thought the other guy was chatting up his bird, said bird began to squawk, and then next thing you knew spells were flying and Miranda was hit in the crossfire while trying to break it up. It wasn’t too bad of an injury at least; while reducto can usually pack a hell of a punch, the fact that the caster was drunk and unstable resulted in only a minor blast that knocked the bartender against a wall.

Miranda didn’t remember getting to the hospital. Her head was throbbing something awful, as was her shoulder, and as she drew her heavy eyelids open she could only make out the blurred outline of the mediwizards as they proceeded to check her in at the front desk.

“Reducto curse,” one of the portly, but motherly mediwizards said, “Dislocated shoulder and a potential concussion. Her employer said that her brother is her closest kin, so we’ve notified him.” She paused, looking down at Miranda who stared stupidly back. The lights were hurting her eyes. Clucking her tongue, the older woman gave Miranda’s arm a light, reassuring pat, before stepping aside to make room for the healer that now approached. A healer named Charlotte Montgomery.

“Anyone get the name of that wand-happy walrus?” Miranda mumbled through gritted teeth, her back arching against the spell that kept her afloat, “And his slag while you’re at it. I...”

Miranda paused, her hazel eyes squinting toward Charlotte’s face. A long moment passed, almost comically so, until the healer’s identity dawned upon the injured young woman and she attempted to violently sit up.

“I think we’re going to need a different butcher on shift.”

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painisrelative
2008-10-05 12:49 pm UTC (link)

The mediwizards completely ignored Miranda's last words, assuming she was possibly slightly delusional. After a brief, short nod to Charlotte - who was trying hard to control the unpleasant frown on her brow, they turned to leave. Inhaling sharply, the Healer willed herself forward dutifully, her wand aloft as she took over the mobilicorpus spell that was making the younger witch hover. For the moment, Charlotte's brain decided to conveniently disregard the piece of information that Miranda's brother had been notified that she was in St. Mungo's - and quite probably would be there sooner than anyone would have thought possible.

"I know this is far from ideal," Charlotte said flatly to Miranda, deftly leading her down the hallway and into an examining room. "But I need you to work with me here." Displeasing as the situation was, she was still the healer in charge, and she knew she had no option but to cope and act professional. As the room's door clicked shut behind them, she carefully lowered Miranda onto the examining table, letting go of her with a gentle flick of wand.

"All right, I need to check you for head trauma, first," she said quietly, keeping eye contact with the other witch as she stepped closer. Her pupils were the same size, Charlotte noted - which was a good sign, as it pretty much ruled out more serious brain damage. "Please stay as still as possible." And just was she said it, the Healer muttered a long incantation and waved her wand, which emitted a warm orange light that slowly involved Miranda's head. "Do you remember which part of your head you hit?" Charlotte knew the question was possibly a long shot, but it would really help a lot if Miranda could answer.

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