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Healer Janice stood at the ready in the Appleby Arrows medical tent. It was her first day working solo since finishing her internship at St Mungo’s and she was ready for the challenge.
With every cheer and gasp from the frenzied crowd outside, she took a deep breath and steeled herself for an injured player to be rushed into her care at any moment. She practiced shaping incantations with her lips, making sure she could say them as fast as possible without slurring. This was the semifinals of the British and Irish Quidditch League and speed was the name of the game, on and off the pitch. As soon as a wounded player arrived, it was her job to patch them up as quickly as possible and send them back to the coach to decide if they would be put back into play. It was a merciless sport, and she was not here to save the players from themselves, but to enable them to get back on the pitch for another inevitable injury. And she was ready.
Still, the tent remained empty.
The amplified voice of the announcer was distorted by echoes, intended for the crowd in the stands, not the healer in the medical tent. The crowd, on the other hand, could be heard loud and clear, stomping their feet in joy or protest and both sides threatening to drown each other’s jubilant cheers out with raucous jeers. Healer Janice couldn’t exactly tell what was going on by any of this, but she could tell it was supposed to be exciting. At least to the 98% percent of society who seemed to eat and breathe Quidditch.
There was an odd period of silence, and then it was abruptly broken through, not by noise from the pitch, but by a woman rushing through the tent flap.
Despite her mental preparations, Healer Janice stood dumbfounded at the sudden appearance of the woman, who was not one of the team members, but the Arrows’ manager, Alicia Spinnet. Her hands were clasped over her face, which was overflowing with blood. Logic said that the blood must be coming from her nose, but it was so much blood that it seemed impossible to all come from a single feature. Alicia was the one person from the team who had come by to introduce herself as Healer Janice had set up her tent before the game, and she was the last person she expected to be treating.
Snapping back into the moment, Healer Janice rushed forward and helped Alicia take a seat. “Right this way, Miss. Spinnet, not to worry.” She kneeled forward, examining the bloody face, which was indeed mostly coming from the nose. It would be an easy enough fix, but since her patient was not a Quidditch player, she had to be sure the injury was physical in nature, not magical. “Can you tell me what happened out there?”
Alicia opened her mouth to speak, but her hands were pressed too tightly over her nose. She loosened them, and the flow of blood doubled, pouring over her previously pristine blue robes and sending her doubling over to catch the blood.
“Oh dear, I’m sorry,” Healer Janice pulled out her wand to wash the blood from her patient, but before the incantation made it out of her mouth, the tent flap flew open, and another woman rushed in, free of blood, but face flushed and hair flying wild.
“Alicia!” the newcomer called, rushing to the injured woman’s side.
Healer Janice instinctively jumped back before remembering herself. “Excuse me, this tent is for Quidditch personnel and healers only,” she insisted.
“It’s okay, I’m her girlfriend,” the woman insisted, not taking her eyes off of Alicia, “Katie Bell.”
“Oh. Right, well that’s fine I guess,” Healer Janice tripped over her words. Alicia had been the only person who gave her the time of day today - she could certainly return the favor by letting her partner see her. “Do you know what happened to her?”
Katie’s face darkened. “That bastard of a Puddlemere beater, Grisby decided to aim his frustrations at the Arrows in her direction.”
Janice’s eyes widened. “How horrible!” Still, it made things simpler. This was just a bludger to the face after all, which was the most common Quidditch injury and could be fixed in a moment without complication.
She raised her wand once again, and as if on cue, the tent flap burst open once again, and this time it was a man who rushed in, wearing the darker blue robes of Puddlemere United.
“Oh, no no no!” Healer Janice insists, stepping forward to block the man. “This tent is for Arrows team members only! If you need attending to, you’ll need to go to your own tent.” It occurred to her that this might be the ‘bastard of a beater’ Grisby, and although he is three heads taller than her, she does not back down.
This doesn’t seem to bother the man, as he side steps her and rushes towards Katie and Alicia.
“Now wait a minute!” Healer Janice squeaks.
“I just want to see that she’s alright,” the man insists.
“It’s fine, really!” Katie informed Healer Janice before turning her attention towards the newcomer, her hand resting reassuringly on her bleeding girlfriend. “But how did you get off the field, Oliver?”
Oliver laughed. “I tried to throw a punch at Grisby myself, and got pulled out of play. Don’t worry, he’s fine - unless anyone else has the same idea.”
Healer Janice’s head snapped from one to the other and the bleeding woman between them, unsure what to say.
“Really, I think you ought to - “ Her voice cracks, but it makes no difference, as once again the tent flap burst open and this time a man and woman in normal robes bolt in together.
“Alicia! Alicia!” the woman cried, rushing to Alicia’s side and placing a hand on her shoulder, in parallel to Katie’s position.
“Is she alright?” Healer Janice had read enough papers to recognize the man with hair as red as Alicia’s blood as Percy Weasley. He looked the most anxious of all of them, looking from the other man to the woman he had entered with to the healer, searching for some form of reassurance
“Now, now!” Healer Janice shouted over the din. “I know you’re all worried about your friend, but the only ones who should be here are fam-” she stopped herself, realizing that if her patient was any relation to Percy Weasley, there would be at least a dozen others coming. “The girlfriend. Just the girlfriend.”
The woman who had entered with Percy Weasley puffed herself up to her full height, which was taller than either of the men and truly intimidating. “I am the girlfriend.”
Healer Janice could hardly believe poor Alicia’s luck - she got hit by a foul bludger, only for what looked like every scorned lover she had ever had to come stake a claim to her. “This is no time to fight over - whatever this is. Now if you could all just clear out - “
“We’re not fighting over anything!” Katie insisted, still clutching tightly onto Alicia’s other shoulder. “We just want to see our girl taken care of.”
Well, Healer Janice thought, at least one of them was willing to rise above the drama.
“Please, Madame,” Percy Weasley stepped forward, with a measured and patient voice. “We’ll stand back and be quiet - we just need want to be sure Alicia’s alright.”
Alicia nodded emphatically from her seat, her hands still clasped firmly over her bleeding nose.
Healer Janice was inclined to trust the calm confidence of the Ministry official, but her doubts were not satisfied. “What’s your place in all this?” She asked, trying to mask her suspicion and nose for drama with a tone of curious respect.
“Well, uh.” Percy shifted on his feet and rubbed the back of his neck as he gave his response to the floor. “My wife Aud there is Alicia’s girlfriend - and so is Katie.”
“And I’m his boyfriend, Oliver,” the Puddlemere player introduced himself with a cheerfully confident tone, holding out his hand for Healer Janice to shake.
Her head oscillated in disbelief between the five of them. She had not been taught how to deal with this kind of situation, by St Mungos or anywhere else in life.
“I think…” she began in a small voice, “I ought to just see to Miss Spinnet’s nose.”
“That’s what we’ve been saying!” sounded the passionate chorus.