Miriam had been both grateful and relieved when Dumbledore asked her to remain in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries as an assistant Healer while working for the Order of the Phoenix. He thought she would be of more use there, able to help those who had been attacked by dark wizards, and to keep an ear out for information. Dumbledore had spent many hours teaching her personally how to inspect a witch or wizard for the Imperius curse without using Legillimency, which would be expected by most of those under Voldemort’s control. He’d put his trust in her to help, to heal.
This particular evening, Miriam had been stationed in the Spell Damage ward, and was putting herself to use by alphabetizing a cabinet full of remedial potions. It had been an unusually slow day for a Saturday, and Miriam had spent most of the day in the children’s ward; it was her favorite place to work in the entire hospital, yet she hadn’t been able to spend much time there since she started working for the Order and began requesting wards where she would most likely be useful to them. But for now, all Miriam wanted was for the end of her shift to finally arrive so she could go home; she had been feeling a bit green for the past few days, struck by sudden spells of dizziness and nausea. Once she had passed out in a dead faint, and had been forced by Sirius to stay home in bed all day long…and then she thought of Sirius. Yes, Miriam did want to go home; home had a new meaning for her these days.
For a moment she became lost in thought, gazing dreamily at the pearl now adorning her left ring finger, an uncharacteristically goofy smile plastered on her face. Other stones, like diamonds, were flashy and glamorous and would not have suited Miriam at all. On the other hand, the pearl was modest and small, smooth and perfectly rounded so as not to catch on anything while she worked. It was perfect, as Sirius knew it would be.
Miriam lifted a glass bottle of crushed four-leaf clovers, scanning her eyes over the C’s for it’s proper position when -
CRACK!
CRASH!
A woman had apparated directly behind Miriam, startling her so badly she dropped the bottle so it smashed and tiny green leaves lay splattered all over the pristine white floor.
Instinctively, Miriam extracted her wand from within her robes, but before she could so much as point it, the woman had flung herself forward, her hands grasping the lapels. Miriam stumbled back against the shelves, sending more jars to the floor in a great clatter. The woman yanked down and Miriam was forced to bend slightly so that they were eye-level, her attacker’s eyes wide and desperate. She was shaking very badly.
“M-Miriam Daniels,” she sputtered, “I n-need Miriam Daniels!”
She had yet to recover from her shock when two large wizards Miriam recognized as hospital security strode in purposefully and promptly detached the crazed looking woman from Miriam’s robes.
“Madame, you’ll need to come with us please,” said the taller guard, as he struggled to control the increasingly hysterical intruder.
“Please!” she shrieked. “Oh dear, oh dear, please! I need help, I NEED MIRIAM DANIELS!”
“It’s against the law to apparate inside of a hospital, you know,” piped in the stouter of the two guards, as if the woman whom was now resorting to biting and scratching the arms pulling her back had said nothing.
Miriam’s heart was racing as she struggled to absorb the scene playing out in front of her. What was going on? Confusion clouded Miriam’s mind and she struggled to find a coherent train of thought. It wasn’t until the besieged threesome reached the doorway of the supply room that Miriam was able to get a decent look at the intruder.
The woman wore a long, lace trimmed green dress adorned by a fox-fur scarf that had come undone during the scuffle. Grayish-purple hair was twisted into a severe bun that had also come loose, and though Miriam had the distinct impression that she had never seen this woman in her life, she had the strange yet unmistakable feeling that something was missing…a red handbag…a large hat….a stuffed vulture…
“Get your hands off me, you scoundrel!” reproached the woman, her voice somehow taking on a regal air despite the excitement. “You have no idea who you are dealing with, I tell you!”
That voice…
“Alright Madame, let’s go,” spoke the first guard, “We’ll need a look at that wand of yours, and then “ ”
“Wait!” shouted Miriam suddenly. The guards, already out into the hallway stopped abruptly, surprised, and Miriam caught the glimmer of hope and gratitude in the old woman’s eyes. “Wait. I know this woman!”
The two security guards gave each other a look, but stopped trying to drag the woman out of the supply room, though each kept a firm grip on one arm. The woman stared fiercely into Miriam’s face.
“Are you Miriam Daniels?”
“Mrs. Longbottom,” said Miriam tentatively. She did not want to send the poor woman into hysterics again, so she talked very softly and slowly, as if she were addressing a scared animal. “We’ve met once before, but only briefly. I didn’t recognize you without that, er…distinctive hat of yours. I know your son, Frank and his wife, Alice “ ”
“‘Get Miriam,’” said Mrs. Longbottom shrilly. “That’s what they said! ‘She’ll know what to do! Get Miriam!’”
“Frank and Alice?” asked Miriam, her voice rising a bit. “What’s happened? Are they alright? What “ ”
With a great heave, Mrs. Longbottom wrenched her one arm free and flung it out. It landed heavily with a slap at the sensitive curvature between Miriam’s neck and shoulder.
“Ouch! Oh no “ wait!”
And then Miriam’s world went black. She had the familiar sensation of being pressed in tightly from all directions; her ears popped from the pressure, she couldn’t breathe, and then “
Miriam found herself standing inside of a very pretty kitchen with a tall ceiling, pale yellow walls and rows of violet orchids decorating the corners and windows. Miriam thought she hard voices, and she turned left to see an opening that looked to be an entranceway into a sitting area of some sort. She felt her heart pounding in her ears. Despite the cheery atmosphere of the little house, Miriam felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up; something dark was in this house, or had been very recently - she was sure of it.
Miriam had nearly forgotten about the woman who had practically kidnapped her until she flew past her with an anguished wail out the opening and into the adjoining room. Miriam followed, her wand at the ready, blood pounding, heart racing…
The sight before Miriam nearly brought her to her knees.
Frank and Alice Longbottom lay on the floor face up, mouths slack; Alice’s eyes were wide with shock, Frank’s closed shut. Blood trickled out of Alice’s ears onto the pale blue carpet creating a purple stain. Her usual pink, cherub-like cheeks were ghastly white, and the sparkling eyes Miriam once knew were bloodshot and empty. Her husband was in no better condition; he too had the same lax expression, and there was a wide, bloody gash running from his shoulder down to his hip. Mrs. Longbottom’s hiccupping sobs were the only sound in the entire house. Miriam knelt down close, her lips trembling. Oh please, please, don’t let them be dead.
“They said to get you, that you’d know what to do,” said Mrs. Longbottom, her voice shaking so badly that Miriam could barely make out the words. “‘Get Miriam.’ That was the last thing they said to me before I apparated.”
Miriam tremulously pressed two fingertips gently to Alice’s neck. A faint, barely detectable heartbeat throbbed beneath them. Air whooshed out of Miriam’s lungs “ she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding it “ and her heart filled with relief. Weak as it was, there was no mistaking the feeble heartbeat; Alice was not dead.
Miriam turned now to Frank. The wound on his chest went deep, and would need to be dealt with immediately…or it would, thought Miriam, so long as he too was still alive. Feeling the prickles of apprehension dancing along her spine, Miriam held out her fingers and lightly touched the skin at his neck.
It was though a switch had suddenly been flicked on; Frank’s eyes flew open and he began to scream; it was a desperate, blood-curdling sound. Miriam let out a startled cry and fell back, though not in time to miss the arm that was flung out wildly, connecting smartly with her cheekbone.
Miriam scrambled to her feet and stared, horrified. Frank screamed and screamed. His hands flew up to yank and pull on his hair. His legs began to kick out violently, once hitting Alice, though she seemed not to notice.
Alice too, had been stirred into movement, and though it was much less subdued, Miriam found it no less terrifying. She began to roll on the floor, back and forth, moaning a haunting tune. Drool trickled out of the side of her lips. Then she rolled over once more to her side and was dreadfully sick.
Miriam stared down at her friends and felt as though she, too, might be ill. At a loss for what to do, she turned to Mrs. Longbottom imploringly.
“What happened?”
Mrs. Longbottom appeared to have calmed considerably, though fresh tears still continued to spill down her cheeks.
“It was them,” said Mrs. Longbottom in a quiet voice. “Those followers of You-Know-Who….the Death Eaters? I was watching Neville “ my grandson - while they were at work and came to drop him off….I - I heard shouting. And screams. I came in and….there were two! I couldn’t make them both out “ they were hooded and masked “ but one had dark hair and…Oh, what’s wrong with them!?”
The desperate, hysterical edge was back in Mrs. Longbottom’s voice, as Frank started pounding at the floor now with his fists, now positively howling with agony. Miriam couldn’t seem to find her voice to answer; how could she answer? How could she possibly tell a mother that her child, if her suspicions were correct, had been “ but she couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought. Next moment, yet another voice combined with Frank’s, wailing miserably, this one higher pitched and further away.
“That would be Neville,” said Mrs. Longbottom in a dazed voice, as though she had just awaken from a dream. “He’ll be wanting…wanting his parents now…what should I…I don’t know “ ”
“Go to him,” said Miriam, her voice surprisingly brusque. “Go to his room and stay there, do not come out until I call for you. No matter what, no matter what you hear, do not come out of that room.”
Mrs. Longbottom seemed deeply troubled by these orders.
“But “ ”
“Mrs. Longbottom,” said Miriam, gentler now. “I can’t even imagine what this must be like for you. But I need you to help me, and the only way to do that is to stay out of the way. I cannot have any distractions, the slightest mistake could mean…” Miriam broke off, and sighed. How could she explain to her that she couldn’t stay for what could be the last few minutes of Frank and Alice’s lives?
There was more wailing from upstairs, more urgent now. Mrs. Longbottom glanced in that direction, then stared back at Miriam, her expression unreadable. After what seemed like an eternity, she spoke. Her voice was remarkably calm and steady.
“The last coherent thing they said to me was, ‘Get Miriam. Miriam will know what to do.’ My son and his wife obviously trusted you very much, young lady. And so shall I.”
Mrs. Longbottom disappeared up the stairs without another look back. Miriam felt a single tear leak out of her eye, and didn’t brush it away. With a deep breath, she drew her wand and prepared to prove them right.
Nearly two and a half hours later, Miriam watched from the doorway of the Longbottom’s master bedroom. She swayed back and forth on her feet, her wobbling legs threatening to give in at any moment. Something was drumming a violent tattoo inside of her head; her stomach rolled with slick, greasy nausea. Her face was clammy and had a greenish-gray tint. Miriam was fully drained, unable to so much as lift her wand. Yet despite her ailments she felt numb and strangely detached from her surroundings. She had emptied her reserves completely, had used every ounce of magic, every spell, every possibly relevant potion and charm she’d ever known. She’d utilized her some of her own life force in a dangerous spell that had knocked her out for nearly a full ten minutes. Miriam had never before been despairing enough to resort to dark magic to heal, and she’d nearly lost herself in the attempt. In short, Miriam had done everything that magic, talent, and even desperation could do.
The last thing Frank and Alice had said was, “Get Miriam.” They’d had faith in her.
And she had failed them.
Now, she forced herself to watch as Mrs. Longbottom sobbed over the still forms of her son and daughter-in-law. They were not dead; Miriam had saved them from that, at least. Her last bit of magic had put them under a powerful sleeping spell in which they would remain until they could be properly transported to St. Mungo’s.
But when they awoke, they would no longer be Frank and Alice.
Miriam didn’t think she could bear to remain for that. At last she spoke, though to no one in particular, “Someone needs to tell Dumbledore. I’ll do it.” Her voice was raspy and very unlike her own.
With a final look, Miriam turned from the Longbottoms and shut the door behind her.
As Sirius watched the scene before him, a thick white mist filled the hallway, obscuring his vision. Miriam seemed completely unaware of this strange phenomenon surrounding her as she stumbled down the stairs. Soon the house faded away, and Sirius found himself standing inside of a dark, gritty-looking room. A round, wooden table sat in the center, surrounded by people who were becoming clearer by the second. With a great shock, Sirius recognized himself, his hair short, his body young and strong. He was staring at Miriam concernedly, who refused to meet his eyes. A red bruise slashed along her cheek.
I remember this, he thought. Sirius gazed around at the others surrounding the table, and felt his throat tighten as he came upon James and Lily, looking as whole and alive as ever, though perhaps a bit paler than usual. James, his hair a mess and jaw tight, and Lily, silent tears streaming down her delicate cheeks. He could have reached out and touched them, they were so close, so...real. But with great restraint he remained in the background, where he had a better view of the entire room. Ignoring the whirlwind of emotion swirling within his chest, Sirius watched.