Chapter 1

                                        

                                              


                              
Chapter 1
                              
Published - August 20, 2020
                              
Healer Potter was called in to handle a new patient being transferred to his care for long-term rehabilitation. That in itself was rare. Most healers can heal injuries and wounds in hours, if not minutes. But Harry didn't want to be in the trauma wards anymore. It reminded him too much of the war. After five years of training and making his ways through the ranks, he was allowed to open a rehabilitation ward for magical physical therapy and deep tissue restructuring.
                              
He had a lot of success getting those old injuries that never properly healed right to fade away. Ron's broken leg from third-year had started to ache during his Auror Training. Harry was glad that after a few outpatient sessions, it healed right up and proper. He was good at his job. Still, the only patients assigned to his few rooms for long term were back injuries from the quidditch players crashing, or some other severe blunt force trauma to the body, like a car crash (and that was rare).
                              
He walked up to room three and looked through the observation window. The patient was looking at the wall, away from the door. He had blondish hair, it was a little dark.
                              
"He's a jumper," announced the transfer warden. She was charged with making sure that the patient got where they needed to go and that they were accepted by the ward's healer-in-charge. Harry did not allow people to dump patients on him just because they couldn't figure it out. In no way was he an expert on spell and potion damage, nor did he want to find the counter-curses and antidotes for them.
                              
"Huh," Harry said. Suicide wasn't common in the magical world. Mind Healers, he discovered, were quite good at extracting the bad stuff out. If they got help, which Harry himself refused.
                              
"Want the rundown?" the non-sense warden asked. He liked her directness but made sure she never talked to the patients much. She agreed with that plan.
                              
"Sure."
                              
"Most of his back is shattered. He couldn't move his feet if he wanted to, but he is Immobilized from the neck down. Limbs partially healed, but there are still a few breaks. His neck and head are okay, but there's some muscle damage. Would you like to hear the old injuries?"
                              
She only told him the old injuries because he could actually heal them promptly.
                              
"Severe damage in his wrists and ankles."
                              
Harry looked at her for information.
                              
"I don't got nothing. The scars are there. Restraints, long term."
                              
"Fuck. What happened?"
                              
"Doesn't talk."
                              
"Mind healer see him, yet."
                              
"Oh yeah. She came down."
                              
"And?"
                              
The transfer ward looked at him. "She ran out screaming and is on medical leave with a mind healer of her own."
                              
Harry's jaw dropped. She must have gone into his head without permission. "Merlin."
                              
"He also refuses to eat."
                              
"Boy... this just keeps getting worse," Harry said. This patient probably made his rounds through the whole trauma and Mental Health wards before being transferred to him. The intent was clear. Heal his physical injuries and cut him loose, his mental problems untreated."
                              
"What about family?"
                              
"None that I can see."
                              
"Who found him?"