A Question A Day [RORY]

[Ophelia Mae Teller]

In the weeks since getting back into studying Healing magic, Ophelia was pleased to find that plenty of employees at Saint Mungo’s were quite approving of the idea. Of course, she hadn’t exactly expected anyone to laugh in her face when she told them of her ambitions, but all the same it was lovely to hear the positive words of encouragement that flowed through their mouths. One particularly enthusiastic colleague of hers was Rory, a mediwizard a few years older than she. She had always gotten along swimmingly with him, and now whenever he arrived for his shift, he would throw out random Healer related questions for her to answer. It had become their “thing” the past week or so, and Ophelia enjoyed the interaction very much.

It was a Tuesday morning, and Ophelia was pretty sure Rory had an earlier shift today. The hospital was quiet for once, and so she had one of her Healer training books propped open on her desk, inconspicuously enough so any patients wouldn’t see what she was up to if they came up to her desk. Finally, when she saw Rory making his way up the atrium, Ophie beamed excitedly. “Hello Rory! What’s the question today?” she asked, ready to see what he threw at her.

@rory

[Deleted]

Rory was on his way to work, feeling actually pretty well rested for one of the first times in a while. He had the last two days off- miracle of miracles- and was able to catch up on some lost sleep, as well as finally clean up his apartment. It was a nice feeling and he was in a particularly cheerful mood as he walked into the hospital. 

He smiled when he saw Ophelia behind her desk, beaming when she saw him. He chuckled, racking his brain for a good question. The one he came up with was not a cheerful one, but being a healer often wasn't cheerful so he might as well ask it. "Which type of magic is there no cure for?" he asked, walking up to her desk and leaning against it as he waited to see if she would get the answer right. 

Ophelia Mae Teller

[Ophelia Mae Teller]

Ophelia’s smile faltered ever so slightly; this was one she knew from experience. “Lycanthropy,” she responded with a quiet confidence. She knew she was right; Dakota had been inflicted with the disease and he had told her about his incurability. That hadn’t stopped her from loving him of course; she knew there was more to him than his werewolf bite. And now there was Aaron; Ophelia knew she had at least found a friend in the Quidditch player, but she couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more. There had definitely been an attraction between the two; Ophie joked to her flatmate after they had gone out that she seemed to have a ‘type’. Still, it was still early, and Ophelia didn’t like to make assumptions about anything, or anyone. It wasn’t her style.

“I actually believe a Maledictus is incurable as well,” she added as an afterthought. They really didn’t study the blood curse in any of their classes at Hogwarts, but she had stumbled upon it in her readings. After reading up on it, Ophelia was very glad her mother had been a Muggle and therefore not able to pass on any type of blood curse to her daughter. “How are you Rory? Mediwizard trainees doing alright?” she asked him brightly, trying to steer the conversation away from anything too depressing. Rory was like her in that sense; always had a positive outlook on life. She assumed it was part of why they seemed to get along so well.

@rory

[Deleted]

Despite the fact that his question was a depressing one, Rory smiled slightly, proud of Ophelia for her answers, even though neither was the one he was thinking of. "You're definitely right with both of those," he told her with a nod. "Another incurable malady is mental damage caused by magic." The most popular example of this was what happened with the Longbottom couple all those years ago, so he wanted to make sure it was one she thought of as well, but she definitely answered the question better than he expected her to. She was doing very well with all her studying. "Really though, nice job," he complimented honestly, going up to her desk and stopping for a moment. He always liked to stop and talk with her for a moment before continuing in. Honestly, he came a little early so he could do so without being late. 

He smiled, "I'm doing really well. I didn't work the last two days, so I feel ready to get back into things." Sometimes it was hard to deal with the toll that caring for so many people took on him physically and emotionally, but Rory tried his best. He wanted to help as many people as he possibly could. That was his job, after all. He nodded his head, "Yeah, they're all doing very well. How are things going for you up here?" he asked in return.

Ophelia Mae Teller

[Ophelia Mae Teller]

Ophelia nodded solemnly. She had met the daughter in law of the Longbottom patients, Hannah Abbott during her frequent visits to the Leaky Cauldron on her way to Diagon Alley. When she had first started at Madam Malkins as a part-time seamstress, she had actually taken up sewing in a corner booth in the pub. It had seemed odd to some of the other patrons at the time, but they soon got used to the setting. Malkins had just been too...over cramped for Ophelia’s liking; too busy. When Ophelia sewed the way her mother taught her, she liked having a little more solitude, and midday during the week at the Leaky Cauldron provided that. Hannah had started giving her complimentary butterbeers in exchange for quick mending fixes she needed done, and a working friendship had developed between the two Hufflepuff alumni. She never brought up her in-laws however; it was a subject, she said, that only her husband should talk about, which he rarely did - even to his own wife. Still, Ophelia knew who they were having worked at Saint Mungo’s for years, yet she didn’t say anything besides hello and goodbye when the Longbottoms visited their maladied in laws. It wasn’t her business to pry into their personal lives after all.

“Thanks! I just learned about the Maledictus in the chapter of this book i’m reading,” Ophelia said proudly, grinning widely and brandishing the Medical History textbook in front of her. “I was trying to get a little reading done before the first round of visitors make their way in,” she admitted with a soft giggle. Since her vigor for studying Healing magic had finally returned, Ophie was trying to devote every spare moment to her studies, including down times at work. “I’m glad you had a good few days off Rory! Sometimes a few days of rest and rejuvenation are exactly what one needs,” she said happily, quoting something her mother often said when her father finally had a day off from the Ministry, a rare occasion during Ophelia and her brother’s childhood. “Nothing too crazy just yet, just a few of the usual visitors. I haven’t seen Mrs. Smalls’ son in a few weeks, hopefully he comes by today.” Mrs. Agnes Small was a batty old widow in the Permanent spell damage long-term residents ward who somehow had been cursed with the head of a dog. Her family came relatively frequently, though Ophelia had seen the wear his mothers’ condition had borne down on her son. “What about you? Do you have any patients in particular you’re hoping to see progress in?” she asked him curiously. Ophelia liked hearing about Rory’s patients, as they usually had the most curious diagnoses. Being a mediwizard, he usually only handled short term cases, but that didn’t make them any less interesting to learn about.

@rory

[Deleted]

It was obviously from the look on her face that Ophelia knew exactly what he was talking about. They had a special long-term wing at the hospital for people that suffered from the exact condition he was talking about. She knew that. Most people that worked in the hospital worked on it. He nodded when she mentioned that she read about it while reading. “Yeah, that definitely makes sense. I’m glad you’re learning a lot. Sounds like you’re preparing pretty well.” It was no surprise to Rory that she was reading even more now before most people started coming to the hospital. He couldn’t imagine sitting at a desk, but he respected her for her job. They needed people to guide the visitors that came into the place.

He grinned when she commented about his days off. “Me too! I didn’t do anything particularly noteworthy, but sometimes it’s just nice having a few days where you don’t have to run around like crazy,” he told her. Rory loved his job, loved helping people and being there for them in their times of need. He definitely preferred to be working at the scene of events more than in the actual hospital, but even with how much he enjoyed his job, he knew it was good for the mind to have a rest from it. All good healers knew that.

Ophelia mentioned hoping to see Mrs. Small’s son in a while and Rory nodded. That was one of the sad things of the job. Sometimes people in the long-term ward didn’t get visitors, which often was quite discouraging for them. It was for that reason that Rory often tried to visit them as well, wanting to help lift their spirits in any way he could. “Well, I’ll make sure to pass by her today,” he told Ophelia. He knew he couldn’t replace the woman’s son, but sometimes all they needed to know was that there was someone who noticed and cared.

He shrugged, “All of them?” Really, at the moment most of Rory’s patients should be about ready to move from intensive care to the recovering stage. He hoped that over the past few days they’d progressed enough to move on from his ward. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to work with them more, he just preferred when people transferred from him quickly because it meant they were doing well. “I’m a little worried about Ms. Bentley. She had some pretty nasty curse-work done, last I heard she still hadn’t returned to consciousness yet. Other than her, I’m pretty sure the rest should be able to transfer to a different ward today. I’m hoping.”

Ophelia Mae Teller

[Ophelia Mae Teller]

Ophelia nodded graciously, glad that Rory and she had similar enough personalities and mindsets for him to realize what she was intuitively asking him to do. Ophie would have visited Mrs. Small herself if she hadn’t made plans immediately after work with some friends she hadn’t seen in some time. It had taken a while, months actually, but now Ophelia was really starting to get back into a social routine. There were still moments when she needed to be left alone; sometimes those moments came in the middle of a dinner, or a dance floor, and she’d hurry off to take gasping breaths of fresh air outside - well, as fresh as an alley ways’ air could get. Still, those kind of attacks were becoming less and less frequent the more time passed. She hadn’t heard hide nor hair of Dakota since he moved to the continent, and she was beginning to feel as if that was for the best. Their baby dying had broken whatever bond they’d had between them, and nothing was going to ever repair it. She was beginning to accept this, and move on with her life. It was what her mother would tell her to do after all.

“Well that’s good at least! Better than none of them,” Ophelia exclaimed, always trying to find the positive side of things. Rory developed excellent relationships with all of his patients; she knew from the way they talked as the left the hospital how much they all adored him and his jovial nature. “Poor Ms. Bentley - have they caught the person who did this to her?” she asked, an edge to her otherwise sympathetic tone. The one thing that Ophie couldn’t shake was how blank her memory was from the time she’d left her house, eight months pregnant, to waking up in a hospital bed, her baby dead and gone from her womb. There was something missing from her memory, and she was pretty sure it was modified on purpose. Someone knew something, and was willing to let her think she was going mad to hide what really happened. “I hope whoever it was they catch the bugger and throw him into Azkaban,” she said vehemently, then shook her head, as if surprised the spiteful words had come from her own mouth. “Sorry, early wakeup this morning - the cat decided my face was a perfect cushion around five,” she said sheepishly, the fib coming easily to her. Ophelia did have a cat of course, but the feline knew better than to come into her room before seven o’clock; it was a special, almost psychic bond between pet and owner. Rory didn’t need to know that though.

@rory

[Deleted]

Rory nodded when Ophelia said that it was a good thing he wanted to see progress in all his patients. Rory knew that not everyone progressed as quickly as they (or he) wanted when they were injured, but he'd found that hoping for the best always helped. Even if it didn't make them suddenly feel way better, it made it easier for him to encourage them and stay in a positive mood, which was essential when one was in the hospital, especially for a long period of time. 

He shook his head at her next question, Rory's expression darkening severely. "No they haven't. It's kind of hard when the victim is unconscious and you can't get any information about their attacker." That was part of the reason why Rory was hoping that she would be awake today. He wanted to see if she remembered anything that could help the aurors. "I hope so too," he said, not really expecting the anger in Ophelia's tone, but not entirely surprised by it either. He hated the people who did things like this, who attacked others for no reason or for some stupid reason. There was rarely a good reason to hurt another human, whether magical or not, and he hated seeing the aftereffects of it, though he found fulfillment in helping those who'd been attacked. He shrugged at her apology. "You're fine." Honestly, the fact that she cared about the patients this much was a good thing. "So how are you doing today?" he asked.

Ophelia Mae Teller

[Ophelia Mae Teller]

Ophelia saw Rory’s own expression changed, matching her own. Rory was a kind man, but even he could be riled up by people attacking victims like his current patient had been. It was enough to make one’s blood boil, but one had to be cool and calm under the pressure. Letting her emotions get in the way would only falter their efforts to save them, even possibly cause her to make a crucial error. “Can I ask you something? It’s a bit personal, but I don’t know who else I can ask?” she blurted out, then hesitated. This was a question she had been arguing with herself about for a few weeks now, months even if she was honest. Ever since the death of her unborn baby, whom she nor her Healers were able to save.

“How do you handle it when you can’t save one of your patients? If they succumb to their injuries while in your care?” she asked him softly. There it was; the question that had kept her from opening a book on Healing in the days following her late term miscarriage. When she was healing, she wanted to save everyone. Deep down, she knew that was impossible; there were numerous factors that caused demise in Healers care that not even magic could cure. Still, she wished that she could. At least with her empathic touch, she could relieve the mental anguish of patients or their loved ones. It didn’t matter that it left her with a debilitating migraine that she had to sleep off in a makeshift room one of the Healers had made up for her. At least she was being useful.

@rory

[Deleted]

Rory found himself lost in his thoughts, his frustrations of how cruel people were with one another. Why couldn't they just get along? Why did some people have to think they were better than everyone else and that that entitled them to treating other people like dirt? Why did other people assume that they should have whatever they wanted just because they lived? Shouldn't they all need to work for themselves? Why were attacks happening? In his opinion, there was rarely a good reason to hurt someone else. Violence should not be the answer, but it definitely seemed to be here in England at the moment and he hated it. 

Ophelia pulled him out of his thoughts when she asked if she could ask him a question. Rory was a little surprised, but he nodded almost instantly. "Of course. What is it?" He liked the fact that she trusted him enough to feel comfortable asking him her question, whatever it was. Rory wanted people to feel comfortable around him. 

His expression darkened slightly when she asked how he responded to not being able to save a patient. Rory thought for a moment, trying to come up with a good answer. "Well ... you have to grieve a bit. It's obviously not the same as being related to the person or being a close friend, but you have to let yourself feel for the loss. Also, for me it helps to think through everything that happened, reassure myself that I did all I could." Even if it didn't work, Rory always put everything into his work, into saving lives. He hesitated, knowing the next part would probably sound weird, but deciding to add it. Ophelia asked, he might as well give her the real answer. "I ... also have to say goodbye. As soon as I can after their passing, I find a quiet place and I just talk to them, tell them everything I did and apologize that it didn't work and then I say goodbye. I mean, I don't even know if they can listen or hear any of it after they pass on, but I just have to get it out there." His voice was soft now. "I don't think I've ever told anyone that before." It was personal, but it still didn't feel wrong telling her. It's what he did.

Ophelia Mae Teller

[Ophelia Mae Teller]

Ophelia listened intently to Rory's explanation, her eyes never leaving his.  He made perfect sense really, taking time to grieve and saying goodbye privately to the ones he couldn't save.  Perhaps others had their different ways of coping, but Ophelia had a feeling that if she ever made it to being a Healer, her way would be similar to her friends.  "Thank you for sharing that with me Rory, I know it's not easy to reflect on such sad things," she said softly, reaching out and squeezing his hand lightly.  "You're a good man, and a better Mediwizard.  I know I can always come to you for advice," she told him, releasing his hand and placing it on the book in front of her. 

"The reason why I asked is...I'm wondering if I should maybe go in a different direction, with this studying.  I want to Heal people but...I don't know if I am capable of what Healers do day in and day out."  There it was, the truth behind her questions.  She had been thinking it over carefully the past few weeks, and had come to the realization just days before.  "I think it's what I'm supposed to be doing, you know?  Especially-"  She leaned forward.  "With my gift."  Rory was one of the few people who knew about her empathic touch; she was usually called to his ward to calm either the patients or their family.  "I want to be able to help people, more than just greeting them at the front desk," she told him, releasing a breath she didn't know she had been holding.  It felt right, nice even, to finally get this out in the open.

@rory

[Deleted]

Rory nodded when Ophelia thanked him for sharing his feelings. He shrugged a little, trying to downplay it. He hated it when he couldn't save his patients, but it was also part of the job. No one could save everyone, no matter how hard they tried. It was impossible. "Thanks Ophelia," he told her with a smile. He was glad to have her as a friend. "You'll make a good healer." It was true. She truly cared about people and wanted to help. He was certain she'd be great. 

She started explaining why she'd asked him that and Rory listened carefully. She explained that she wanted to help heal people, but that she wasn't sure if she could do what healers did, especially with her gift. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to understand what she was saying. He understood the desire to help people- he felt it, after all- but it was starting to sound like she didn't think St. Mungos was the place do to it. "So what are you thinking about doing?" Rory didn't want to make any assumptions. It'd be much better if she felt comfortable confiding in him about her intentions. 

Ophelia Mae Teller

[Ophelia Mae Teller]

Ophelia hesitated. “Well…” she started, not sure if she should just come out and say it, or launch into an explanation of how she got to the spot she was thinking of. She decided that it was better to be short and sweet. “I want to be a Mediwitch, and I was hoping you could possibly help me attain that dream” she said, folding her hands in front of her and looking him square in the eye. “I want to be in the action, helping people in times of emergency trauma. With my gift, I can be of help as well to calm down anyone who perhaps isn’t as injured but is panicked or catatonic from the stress of the situation,” she added. Rory had been one of the first people she had told about her empathic touch gift, so she knew he would know what she was talking about. “So...what do you think?” she asked, looking at him hopefully for a positive response.

@rory

[Deleted]

Ophelia didn't answer Rory's question right away, but he didn't push her to. As curious as he was, he respected her right to be able to talk to whoever she wanted to about her future. It really wasn't his business. Rory was about to rescind his question when she started talking slowly. His eyes widened, a slow smile creeping onto her face when she said that she wanted to be a Mediwitch and hoped that he'd be able to help her. She kept on explaining why she wanted it and Rory found himself nodding along with her. It all made sense, but she was still talking so he didn't want to interrupt her. When she finally ended, asking his thoughts, Rory smiled widely. "I think it's a great idea! You would be able to relate to people, I definitely think you'd be able to help save lives. When are you going to get started with the process to become a medi-wizard? Or have you already started?"

Ophelia Mae Teller

[Ophelia Mae Teller]

Ophelia blushed lightly. “I-I haven’t started yet. I wanted to talk to you first, since you’ve been so kind and helpful over the past few months. If you think I should go for it however, then I’ll get to the process right away.” She beamed up at him. “I will need a good teacher though, so hopefully you’ll continue to be my go-to point,” she added with a laugh. She reached over her desk and took one of his hands in hers, squeezing it lightly.

Letting go, she pulled up a form she had been working on, but had just completed before Rory had come in. “Here is my official application for the program,” she proclaimed, setting it down in front of him. “Do you think...you could look it over for me?” she asked hopefully.

@rory

feel free to end on next round! sorry for the delay!