The walls of the private ward were painted in calming hues, but Fleur found them too stifling. The air inside was too still, too unchanging. She had never been one for idle rest, and the past few hours had only solidified that sentiment.
A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and a moment later, a woman in healer's robes stepped inside. She was tall, with sharp green eyes and a professional yet pleasant demeanor.
"Good afternoon, Miss Delacour," the healer greeted, her tone brisk but not unkind. "I am Healer Helena. Just here for a routine check-up."
Fleur let out a quiet sigh but nodded, adjusting her position on the hospital bed. "Bonjour."
Helena gave her a small smile and approached with a practiced ease. "I'll be asking you a few questions, just to ensure everything is as it should be."
Fleur straightened, brushing a few strands of silver-blonde hair behind her ear. "Oui, of course."
Helena glanced at her clipboard before starting. "Are you experiencing any dizziness?"
"Non."
"Any unusual pain or discomfort?"
"Non."
"Any tightness in your chest? Trouble breathing?"
"Non, I feel fine."
Helena nodded, making a small note before continuing. "Any unusual sensations? Tingling? Numbness?"
Fleur shook her head. "Non, not'ing like zat."
The healer hummed, scanning Fleur with her wand. The tip glowed faintly as she ran it down Fleur's arm, then hovered briefly over her torso.
"No abnormalities," Helena noted, sounding satisfied. "That's a good sign."
Fleur crossed her arms loosely, her impatience beginning to show. "So, I am… 'ow you say, all good?"
Helena chuckled lightly. "We still need to observe you for a little while longer. Just as a precaution, since the magic used in your healing was—" she paused, searching for the right word, "—unfamiliar."
Fleur gave a slight huff, though she already expected that answer. "I do not understand why it 'as to be so long. I feel perfectly fine."
"It's standard procedure for new or unseen spells," Helena explained. "Sometimes, even if there are no immediate side effects, magic can react in unexpected ways over time."
Fleur frowned but did not argue. She knew healers had their rules and procedures, even if they were frustratingly rigid.
Instead, she asked, "Can I at least leave zis room? I am bored."
Helena smiled apologetically. "I'm afraid not. We have to limit your movements for now."
Fleur let out a small groan. "Zis is absurd."
"I understand," Helena said, her tone patient, "but you can have visitors if that helps."
Fleur considered that for a moment. Then, an idea formed.
"Can I… request an appointment with one of ze healers?" she asked carefully.
Helena raised an eyebrow. "That depends. Are you asking for a medical consultation?"
Fleur hesitated only briefly. "In a way, yes."
Helena's lips twitched as if she already knew where this was going. "Who exactly would you like to see?"
Fleur sat up a little straighter. "One of ze interns," she said, before adding with certainty, "Severus Blackwood."
Helena's expression turned knowing. "Ah," she said, amusement lacing her tone.
Fleur narrowed her eyes slightly. "What?"
Helena shook her head, still smiling. "Nothing. It's just—he's become something of a name around here, that's all. Not every intern gets this much attention so quickly."
Fleur folded her arms. "I am not asking because of zat," she said, though she had noticed the way the healers had spoken about him in hushed tones, their curiosity evident about him. "I 'ave reasons."
"Oh, I don't doubt that," Helena said, still looking amused. "And what exactly do you wish to discuss with him?"
Fleur hesitated for a fraction of a second before replying. "Ze magic 'e used on me."
Helena nodded, her amusement fading into professionalism. "That's fair. You were the one affected by it, after all."
"Exactement," Fleur said. "If I am to remain 'ere for two weeks, I want to understand what was done to me. It is only right, non?"
Helena considered her for a moment before nodding. "I'll see what I can do," she said.
Fleur relaxed slightly. "Merci."
Helena made another note on her clipboard before looking up. "Would you like me to tell him anything specific when I pass on your request?"
Fleur pursed her lips in thought. "Just zat I would like to speak with 'im about ze healing," she said simply. "And zat I would appreciate 'is time."
Helena nodded, closing her notes with a small snap. "I'll let him know."
Fleur gave her a grateful nod before leaning back against the pillows. This was good. She had questions, and if she was going to be stuck here, she might as well get some answers.
As Helena turned to leave, Fleur added, almost as an afterthought, "And if 'e refuses, tell 'im zat I do not take no for an answer."
Helena laughed softly. "I'll be sure to mention that."
_______________________________________
Severus was seated at the small desk in his assigned quarters, a private space within St. Mungo's reserved for interns and junior healers who needed to stay on call. The office was functional, if plain—shelves lined with medical texts, chairs pushed against the wall, and a heavy oak desk that bore the weight of several open books and scattered parchment.
He was in the midst of refining a healing formula when a knock came at the door. He barely lifted his gaze from the parchment.
The door creaked open, and Healer Helena stepped inside, her green eyes alight with something bordering on amusement. Severus immediately tensed. Helena was not the type to waste time with idle visits. If she was there, there was something serious. Afterall, she was usually a no nonsense witch.
"You have a request," she said without preamble, closing the door behind her.
Severus set his quill down with a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "A request?"
"Yes." Helena folded her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "From one of our patients. Fleur Delacour."
Severus stilled at the name, his mind already turning. The French champion. The young witch he had healed.
He leaned back in his chair, his expression becoming more unreadable now. "And what does Miss Delacour want?"
Helena's lips twitched in faint amusement. "She wants to meet you."
Severus didn't react immediately, but inwardly, his thoughts quickened. "Why?"
"She said she wants to discuss the magic you used on her," Helena replied, watching him closely. "She seems quite determined."
Severus exhaled through his nose, his fingers tapping lightly against the desk. It was not an unreasonable request. He had, after all, used spells unknown to this world to pull her back from the brink of death. Any intelligent witch or wizard would have questions.
Still, he wasn't sure if entertaining this meeting was the wisest course of action.
He considered the implications carefully. There were risks.
For one, any prolonged discussion about his magic could invite scrutiny. He had already attracted too much attention within St. Mungo's—more than he had anticipated. The whispers of his abilities had spread among healers and patients alike. Others were showing interest. That was troubling enough.
He had intended to keep a low profile in this world, but that plan was slowly unraveling. If he continued drawing attention, sooner or later, someone would start asking questions he wasn't prepared to answer.
On the other hand… Fleur Delacour was no ordinary witch.
If his memory served him well, in his original world, she had later become involved with the Order of the Phoenix. If the same held true here, she could be a valuable connection. A bridge.
Severus had no illusions about his current situation. He was a lone agent in this unfamiliar version of the world he once knew. While he had no immediate intentions of aligning himself with Dumbledore, Voldemort, or anyone else, he knew that alliances—however subtle—were necessary for survival.
A future Order member could be useful. Even if she was not part of the Order yet, she would be close to those who were.
Another consideration was that Fleur Delacour was a Triwizard Champion. That meant she was a public figure, at least for the time being. If he refused to meet her, it might create even more intrigue around him. The last thing he needed was rumors of arrogance or secrecy fueling further speculation.
He inhaled deeply, letting the thoughts settle in his mind.
The cons were evident, but so were the potential advantages.
After a long silence, he looked up at Helena, who was still standing there, waiting with mild curiosity.
"I assume declining is not an option?" he asked dryly.
Helena chuckled. "I got the impression she doesn't take no for an answer."
That drew the faintest smirk from Severus. "I see."
Helena tilted her head. "So? Will you see her?"
Severus considered it for another beat before giving a short nod.
"Yes."
Helena looked satisfied. "I'll let her know."
She turned to leave, but before she stepped out, she threw him a glance over her shoulder. "Oh, and one more thing."
Severus arched an eyebrow. "What?"
"She's got a very thick French accent."
Severus's lips twitched slightly. "Duly noted."
As the door clicked shut behind her, he leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly.
This meeting would be interesting.