Every Medical Institution Has a Miss Joy

A chaotic clatter of bangs and crashes erupted from the front of the train. Multicolored flashes streaked past the cracks in the battered wooden door, mixed with confused incantations and indistinct curses.

Boom!

A red beam blasted through the wooden door and struck the floor of the carriage, making Tom, who had been pressed against the door to observe the situation in the front carriage, jolt in fright.

"How are we supposed to get in?" Tom turned to Nelson, who was rummaging through his pockets.

"Hey, you should be asking me." Aberforth grunted as he reached behind his back, seemingly pulling an exquisite little spinning top out of his backside. "This isn't children playing house. This is a real fight. You should hide behind an adult Wizard and seek the advice of someone like me, who got twelve Os on his NEWTs."

"Very well, Mr. Twelve Os, what should we do now?" Nelson listlessly echoed as he rubbed his chest and slowly pushed the Sneakoscope he had just taken from his pocket through the crack in the door.

"First, we need to figure out what's going on inside." Aberforth nodded. "A Sneakoscope is a good choice, but in a melee like this, it could actually cloud your judgment. There are at least six wizards in the front carriage right now: two of that man's accomplices, one teacher, and three students. If you rush in recklessly, you'll be torn to pieces by at least six spells."

Tom pulled back the hand he had been reaching toward the door with.

"I'll be fine, but you two probably can't even cast a decent Shield Charm—"

"Protego." Nelson still sounded weak. Leaning against the wall, he listened as the shouting from the front carriage grew sparser. "Mr. Aberforth, if we don't go in soon, they'll be finished fighting."

"Fine." Aberforth shrugged and picked up the little spinning top in his hand. "That's why we need this."

"What is that?" Tom asked curiously, staying well away from the door now.

"A Flashbang." A strange smile appeared on Aberforth's lips. "Stupefy!"

"You're awake?" Nelson opened his eyes and found two blinding suns before him. He closed them again, intending to speak, only to find his lips and throat so dry that he could barely make a sound. He tried to sit up, but discovered that he could not even lift himself.

"The operation was a success. You're a girl now."

Nelson ignored the chattering voice beside him and lay quietly on the bed. Only after the double images before his eyes slowly merged did he see the bright chandelier overhead, the white walls, floor, and hospital beds around him. He was in a hospital.

A cup of water was offered to his lips at just the right moment, with a straw in it. Nelson clamped onto the straw and took a hard gulp. It was just the right temperature, even slightly sweet.

"How does the Draught of Living Death taste?" the voice beside him asked again. "Your ribs were broken. The doctor said they still need... uh... thirty-five minutes to heal. Until then, you should lie still."

"You—" Before Nelson could curse, his vision went black and he fell asleep. Just before he drifted off, he vaguely heard a shrill female voice cry, "Professor Dumbledore, you can't feed students sleeping potions!"

By the time he was awakened again by the noisy sounds around him, it was already dusk. The moment he opened his eyes, warm orange-yellow light filled his vision. Someone had raised the back of his bed and thoughtfully set up the tray table, where a large bowl full of soup and a covered dinner plate sat. He laboriously lifted a hand and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh! Nelson is awake."

"Go serve Nelson some soup."

"Okay."

"Do you think he put his homework in his schoolbag?"

"Ask him after he finishes eating..."

When he opened his eyes again, a small bowl of soup had already been served on the tray table. The cover had been lifted, revealing a silver plate piled with sausages and fried eggs.

"Nal, I really didn't expect that." Nelson turned his head. Tom lay in the next bed, gesturing animatedly through the people surrounding the beds as he poured out his feelings. "I really didn't expect him to use such a dirty trick just to ambush two students."

"I didn't expect it either." Nelson glanced at the greasy sausages on his tray table, completely devoid of appetite. He leaned back against his pillow and closed his eyes. "What happened in the end?"

"I don't know." The crowd parted enough to let Tom's gaze and voice through. He sounded rather confused as well. "I woke up here. I don't know the final outcome, but I know he must have taken down the most people."

"Hey, hey, visiting hours are over! You're far too noisy!" Miss Joy, Hogwarts's school nurse, rushed over waving a rag to drive them away. The people around the beds scattered like birds and beasts. As they left, Nelson seemed to hear Alphard say, "Nal, lend me your homework after you get back to the Common Room."

"Black, are you planning to copy homework right in front of me?"

"P-Professor Dumbledore!"

"Go sweep the Trophy Room after dinner tomorrow."

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore!"

The door shut, and the room finally fell completely silent.

"Professor Dumbledore, just call if you need anything."

"Alright, thank you, Joy."

After the click-clack of high heels faded into the distance, Nelson saw Dumbledore standing between his and Tom's beds, smiling at him.

"Professor Dumbledore?" He looked at the red-haired man before him in confusion. It was a perfectly standard "Dumbledore smile," and he was no longer sure who the person before him was.

"Nelson, your powers of observation still aren't sharp enough." The visitor smiled. "Feeling better? Miss Joy's Skele-Gro even received an award from the Wizengamot. I used it when I was in school."

"Mr. Aberforth?" Nelson realized who he was. "Why did you..."

"Why did you ambush us?!" Tom voiced his confusion first. He grabbed his Wand from beside his pillow and pointed it at Aberforth. "Are you one of them?!"

"No, no, no." Aberforth casually took out his Wand and flicked it. Tom's Wand flew into his hand. "Oh~ looks like you cherish it dearly. We won. The three of them have already gone to visit Azkaban."

He placed the Wand back beside Tom's pillow in exactly the same position as before. "You helped me a great deal. Once I entered the front carriage, I ended the fight quickly."

"But why did you ambush us?" Tom still did not understand. He did not think the two of them had been a burden.

"I know you aren't 'weak,' Tom. On the contrary, most adult wizards are little better than cowards compared to you." He blinked. "But you didn't really think I'd let my students venture into danger, did you? Did you?"

"Fine," Tom said dryly. Though he still believed that any injuries he might have sustained fighting would not have been worse than taking a Stupefy head-on, he was somewhat touched. Still, he had to keep up appearances. "Weren't there three students in the front carriage?"

"You want to compare yourselves to them?" Aberforth scoffed. Seeing Tom's unconvinced expression, he added, "I'm not saying you aren't capable. It's just that you've only been exposed to magic for a short time, while they're practically about to graduate. You can imagine that they'll become outstanding Hogwarts alumni in the future."

"Were they Minerva and Filius?" Nelson thought of the excellent students he knew.

"Maybe, but I don't know their names." He picked up a sizzling, grease-dripping sausage from Nelson's plate and tossed it into his mouth, chewing as he spoke. "Among them were Hogwarts's female Head Girl and two prefects. One was the champion of a dueling competition, while the other was Albus's prized student and won Transfiguration Today's annual award."

Tom fell silent and nodded in agreement instead.

"Looks like you know them." Aberforth nodded and looked at Nelson. "By the way, besides you two, who else knows that Albus asked me to substitute for him?"

"Let me think..." Nelson closed his eyes and recalled. "There shouldn't be anyone else. I never even took the little package Professor Dumbledore gave me out of my pocket."

"I understand." Aberforth nodded thoughtfully.

"What happened?"

"Do you know what your headmaster went off to do?" Rather than answering, Aberforth posed a strange question. He picked up another sausage and looked at the two of them while chewing. In truth, the first-year students had nearly forgotten what their headmaster was called or what he looked like.

"I suppose you don't know either." Seeing their bewildered expressions, Aberforth lowered his voice. "Armando Dippet may be the toughest man in the entire United Kingdom. Though he's already advanced in years, he has never given up his campaign against Dark Magic. Ever since Gellert Grindelwald escaped from prison eleven years ago, he has gathered a group of stubborn old men from the Wizengamot to hunt down Grindelwald's fanatical followers."

Aberforth spat on the floor in disgust, as though he had accidentally uttered something revolting, then continued, "Albus Dumbledore is his prized student. He thought he could enjoy his retirement in peace, but instead he still has to run around cleaning up after his students. Especially after Grindelwald gathered even more followers two years ago, he had to personally enter the fray. But the elders of the Wizengamot are all old now. In fact, across the entire world, only the situation in the United Kingdom is relatively stable."

"And my brother," Aberforth spat on the floor again, "Albus Dumbledore, the man said to be the only one capable of defeating Grindelwald, is hiding away in this little corner of Hogwarts, content to stay out of it."

"Can Professor Dumbledore defeat Grindelwald?" Tom was already considering whether he should find a new target for fame.

"Who knows? But that's what makes Hogwarts the safest place in the world." Aberforth shrugged. "Until the night of the full moon two months ago, when he wrote to me while I was still in the United States. To be honest, it was the first time we had been in contact in more than a decade."