Printer Friendly Version ] [ Report Abuse ]
<< >>

A Dying Legacy by ForgottenFace
Chapter 7 : Control
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 6


Font:  
Background:   Font color:  

St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, London, UK

24 June 2024

“So, I reckon you are here to make up for all the things you haven’t been doing, about the White Disease, Minister,” said the Head Healer of St. Mungo’s.

He was a relatively young Wizard, with dark hair and eyes. His name Head Healer Roger Gray, was written on a shinny name tag, that was attached to his white robes.

“I am here to discuss arrangements for a Quarantine, here in St. Mungo’s, as well as other medical facilities in the Wizarding Britain,” the Minister ignored the Head Healer’s comments.

“No need to hurry, Minister,” Head Healer Gray continued sarcastically. “The Quarantine has been put into action already.”

The Minister looked at him, surprised.

Head Healer Gray laughed. “You don’t think I got this position, as Head Healer of St. Mungo’s, solely on my looks and charm,” he leaned back on his chair. “I actually do my job quite well, unlike you.”

“Well, let’s see if I don’t take this job out of your hands, then,” the Minister was getting irritated with the Head Healer’s comments.

“Oh, but you won’t,” Head Healer Gray grinned. “I know too much about you. You wouldn’t dare do anything to me, with the fear that I would get you exposed.”

The Minister for Magic glared at him, with his lips pursed. The men stared at each other for a few moments. They looked as though both of them wanted to take out their wands and duel right then and there.

“Anyway,” Head Healer Gray broke the silence. “We have sent blood samples and other material to other Hospitals and research institutes, is several countries, to be analized. We will find a cure, not that you care.”

The Minister got up with hatred showing on his face. “Good day, Roger.”

“Good day, Charles,” the Head Healer Grey shook the Minister’s outstretched hand and watched him vanish in a swirl of green flames, in his office’s fireplace.



Granger- Weasley Home, London, UK

24 June 2024

Rose looked at her closed trunk. She had finally been able to finish packing. As she laid on the bed, next to her trunk, she couldn’t help but to feel scared about going away. In just a couple of hours, she was going to be miles away from her family and friends. In a foreign country, she knew nothing about.

She was almost starting to fall asleep, when a gentle knock on the door took her out of her sleepiness.

“Come in,” Rose said, yawning.

“Rose?” her mother, Hermione, said opening the door. “Albus is here to see you.”

Hermione came into the room, followed by her nephew.

“Cheers, Rose!”Albus greeted, sitting next to Rose, on the bed. “I have to talk to you.”

His face turned dark and full of sorrow.

“What is it?” Rose got up, but realized her mother was still in the room. “Mum, do you mind?”

Hermione turned to leave, but Albus stopped her.

“No. You have to know about this too,” Albus said. “James is in St.Mungo’s. He’s showing symptoms of this new disease.”

Hermione and Rose gasped.

“He’s really bad,” Albus continued. “My mum sent me and Lily away. Lily is at grandma and grandpa’s and my mum said I would be safer going with you to Moscow.”

“She clearly isn’t thinking straight!” Hermione interrupted. “How could Ginny think you would be safer abroad?”

“Aunt Ginny is right,” Rose began, standing up and pacing around on her room. “There are no cases or anything about the disease outside of the UK. We can only assume we are safer away.”

“Rose, you are still a child. You can’t make—“

“Mum! I am an adult now. I can – and will – make this decision on my own. So is Albus,” Rose said, tired of her mother saying she was a child. “If we think we are better off away, then we will go away.”

Hermione stared at her daughter for a long minute and then went out the door.

Rose looked at Albus and gave him a small smile. She sat next to him and squeezed his hand, in support.

Hermione came back once again. She carried a small beaded bag and gave it to Rose, who looked at it puzzled.

“Hamn,” Rose mumbled. “I really appreciate it, mum….but it is slightly out of fashion.”

“This is not a fashion accessory,” Hermione laughed. “Open it”

Rose opened the small bag and watched as her mother struggled to get her trunk inside the bag. She looked buggy eyed at the beaded bag, which had just been filled with a trunk, more than ten sizes bigger than it. And still it looked like a small and slightly out of fashion beaded bag.

“I made that when you father, Harry and I were hunting for Voldemort’s Horcruxes,” Hermione explained to the two perplexed teenagers. “There are still some things in there from that time.”

“Brilliant!” Rose examined the bag in awe. It was a fantastic magical artefact.

“What time are you going?” asked Hermione.

Rose looked at her alarm clock and got up gasping. “In just a few minutes!” she ran around in her room, without know what she was doing. “I feel like I’m missing something…” she looked in her robes and took out her wand, putting it back in a second later. “The folder!? I put it in my trunk  - where’s my trunk!” she put her hand on her head looking around in her room.

Albus pointed at the beaded bag that was hanging on her shoulder.

“Right,” Rose said relieved, looking at the bag. She then ran out of her room and down the stairs, only to reappear once more, a few minutes later. “Alright, said goodbye to dad and Hugo, but I still feel like I’m forgetting something…”

“How about my goodbye?” asked Hermione, opening her arms to give her daughter a hug.

“I’ll miss you so much mum,” Rose said, giving Hermione a tight hug.

“Take care in there. And if something happens, you already know the Patronus messenger spell.” Hermione said giving her daughter a kiss on the top of the head.

“Yes mum, don’t worry,”  Rose grabbed Albus’ hand and the blue lighter, that was still labelled Moscow. “Take it,” she said to Albus.

Albus grabbed the lighter and a second later both of the teenagers disappeared into thin air.



Von Nettesheim Magikal Krankenhaus, Berlin, Germany

24 June 2024

The two men, that had been playing Wizard's Chess, before the Owl interrupted them with a package from London, were now busy looking through microscopes, taking notes and mixing samples of blood with liquids of various colours.

The light from the outside of the little window was getting dimmer and they were now only illuminated by candles and the small fires from under the steamy cauldrons.

"You know," said the Healer with the glasses, in German. "This reminds me of the researches I did when I was working with Solovyov, in Russia. We were always working with blood, using Muggle devices."

"Solovyov was always know for is fascination with Muggle science," said the other Healer, also in German, taking some notes.

"Yes," agreed the other man. "I worked there for five years and all we did was make experiences with blood. It was quite fascinating, but boring nonetheless. When I started working with him, he was already experiencing with blood and when I left we was still working on it," he switched samples of blood and started examining them on the microscope again. "Some of my old colleagues from there say that he worked on it, until his death."

"Maybe he died for his obsession," said the other Healer. "I heard he only worked with Muggleborns, is that," he paused for a second, to clear his throat and clean sweat from his forehead. "Is that correct?"

"Yes. There were plenty of better suited candidates for the job I was hired to do and he said I was hired because I was a Muggleborn," the man with the glasses said. "All the other Healers working with him were Muggleborn too."

"Do you think that he felt that you, being a Muggleborn," the man paused once more and coughed a little. "That you being a Muggleborn was going to help the research?" he coughed again. "Damn cough! With all the knowledge you have of the Muggle world and all that?"

The man started coughing again.

"Are you alright?" asked his colleague, stopping what he was doing and looking at the other Healer, just as he was falling on the dirty floor, with blood pouring from his mouth.



The Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, UK

24 June 2024



Scorpius was exhausted. He had spent the entire night pacing around the Manor, thinking about his family that was in St. Mungo's. He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that his family was dying and there was nothing he could do. This disease was ruining his life and he was powerless to stop it.

He spent countless hours trying to remember who the cloaked man was. He was sure he knew that deep voice from somewhere. He knew he heard that voice in his house, when he was younger. But he couldn't, for the life of him, remember who that man was.

Of two things he was certain. One, that is father knew that mysterious man. And two, that the man was trying to kill his father and it didn't seem like he was going to stop, until his father was dead.

"Master," asked his really old House Elf. Scorpius was so deep in thought, that he didn't even heard the House Elf coming into the Drawing Room.

"Yes," Scorpius asked, looking at the ashes in the fireplace.

"Would you like me to prepare you something to eat?" the House Elf asked, examining the purple bags under Scorpius' eyes.

"No, thank you," Scorpius replied, ignoring the Elf's attention. "Wait," Scorpius suddenly said, before the Elf could leave. "Where's my father's old bedroom? The one he had when he was younger?"

"May I ask, why do you want to know, Master?" asked the House Elf, getting uncomfortable with his Master's sudden curiosity.

"Just tell me where it is!" Scorpius shouted, finally looking at the scared creature.

"I-I don't think Master Draco will be pleased with you going in there," the House Elf said, with his voice shaking in fear.

"My father is in the Hospital! He'll never know!" Scorpius shouted. He looked at the terrified Elf and tears started forming in his eyes. "I don't even think he is going to live to even know it..."

"The East wing, the door is covered by a green and silver tapestry," the House Elf whispered.

Scorpius got up and left the room, heading East. He had been into the East wing, but all the rooms where either locked or hidden. So he had never been able to look in any of them. It was a thing that had always bothered him. All this secrets and locked doors. He hated it.

When he finally reached the East wing, he slowed down. It was dark and gloomy. It was still clean, though. Ignoring the darkness, Scorpius kept on looking for the silver and green tapestry. When he finally found it, Scorpius stared at it in awe. The tapestry had the Malfoy family crest embroidered in silver and green. It was truly a beautiful piece of art and it was a shame that it was in such a far away and dark part of the manor.

Scorpius carefully took the tapestry out of the way and uncovered the door. The white double doors looked new and not a single piece of dust was covering its carvings or knobs.

Scorpius hesitated before resting his hand on one of the silver doorknobs. Taking a deep breath he turned it and pushed the door. But the door didn't even move an inch. It was locked. He tried again opening both doors, with no luck.

Desperate to get in, Scorpius looked in his robes for his wand. Until he realized he had left it on top of the mantel piece in the drawing room. Scorpius looked around the corridor, angry. He saw a massive iron candlestick, next to a painting of a landscape. He thought about it for a couple of minutes, before grabbing the heavy candlestick, with some difficulty and taking a swing with all his force at the wooden doors.

He looked at the hole the candlestick had left in the door.  He hated to have to do that, but the Manor was protected against Apparition. He then thought of the cloaked man, pointing his wand at his father and rage filled his heart. With tears falling from his eyes, he started hitting the doors with the candlestick, with all his might.

He only stopped when the candlestick slipped from his hand and landed on the other side of the doors, with a big crash. Scorpius looked at what remained of the doors. There was a hole big enough for a grow man to pass through.

He put his head through the door and examined the room. It was full of Hogwarts and Slytherin memorabilia, all covered in dust and spider webs. The windows were dirty, but they let a little light come in.

Scorpius stepped through the hole and finally entered the room. He looked around, not knowing where to start looking. All the dust was making him uncomfortable and it was a little hard to breath in the room. Not able to hold it anymore, Scorpius started coughing uncontrollably.

A little splatter of blood projected into the floor and Scorpius looked at it shocked. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, when he cleaned his mouth with the sleeve of his robes and they were stained with blood.





A/N: So sorry for the long wait on this chapter. And I'm sorry too that this chapter isn't as good as it should be, but my writer's block isn't helping the qality of my work. =/

Once again "
Von Nettesheim Magikal Krankenhausmeans Magical Hospital Von Nettesheim, in German. =)


Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Favorite |Reading List |Currently Reading

<< >>


Review Write a Review
A Dying Legacy: Control

Review

(6000 characters max.) 6000 remaining

Your Name:
Rating:

Prove you are Human:
What is the name of the Harry Potter character seen in the image on the left?


Submit this review and continue reading next chapter.
 

Other Similar Stories


Sympathy for...
by ayii

Awakening
by Petrificus

The New Dark...
by dark_magi...