18 July 1884 - Gringotts

Gus was pretty certain every healer that had ever had the misfortune of treating him would all agree that he was an awful patient. Something about never listening to their orders or doing everything humanly possible to get out of there as quickly as possible so he could get back to work.

Hell, the only reason Gus was sitting on the edge of a spindly bench that creaked with every shift of his weight was because he was told he wouldn’t get another assignment until a healer cleared him for it. He grit his teeth and tapped his feet impatiently against the ground because it felt like he’d spent more time waiting here, in some random hallway in Gringotts to await the healer than he had trapped inside the tomb – if he had to pick which one to be stuck in, Gus had to go with the latter.

Gus hooked a finger under the collar of his shirt for the umpteenth time, stretching it out like it was going to invite the stifling air around him to help cool off his body. Ever since he’d been released from the tomb, which had only been a day or two ago at most by some of his fellow curse breakers, Gus couldn't seem to cool down. His throat was bone dry. His palms itchy, pits sweaty. It felt like the tomb’s heat had sunk into his bones and refused to leave, no matter how many cooling charms he cast.

Still, he’d rather live with it than waste another minute here. The healer was taking his time, although Gus wasn’t sure if he was here already, checking out other curse breakers who needed to be cleared or if he was still on his way. He quickly tapped his feet at the same time, before he let out a loud sigh in hopes that someone might come ask him why he was making so much noise. Naturally, no one appeared.

He scowled at the floor, his finger still hooked inside the cotton shirt. Gus wasn’t a fan of sitting still, especially when he could already be out there breaking inside another tomb.

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Philomena Sprout // Derek McKinnon

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Derek had about marked out his trek from Hogsmeade to Gringotts by now, having been called on multiple different caseloads when the St. Mungo’s Branch was overflowing. And especially now with the Laughing Plague rampant, the medi-healer units were stretched thin as ever. Derek himself had been fortunate enough to escape the Plague’s clutches, but he worried it was only a matter of time. The echoes of his sibling’s laughter played on a loop inside his head, causing sleepless nights and dark circles to stamp themselves under his eyes. Nevertheless, work was work, and he had to provide for his family. Adam, Eliza and Isabeau were all out which left him, Edith and Jack to work in shifts.

It was a long year that the healer wished was over already.

Derek was still yawning as he approached the large doors of the bank in Diagon Alley, wondering who his patient was. He greeted the goblin standing at the entrance with what little Gobbledegook he knew before being led towards his patients.

As soon as he spied who the first one was, he couldn’t help but let out a bark of laughter. The shock of copper-red hair was enough to let him know how the next few minutes would go. “Well, well, well,” He greeted as he made his way over to Lissington. “What’ve you gotten yourself into this time then, Grumpy Goose?”

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Just hearing McKinnon’s voice made Gus’s scowl deepen, and he was glad it was directed at the floor because he was not in the mood to deal with the other right now. The redhead lifted his eyes with the slowness and skepticism of a man who had absolutely not had enough tea to deal with this level of chipper sarcasm. Out of everyone St. Mungo’s could have sent…

“I’m fine.” Gus quickly shot back as he unhooked his fingers from his shirt, letting them rest against the bench. It only took a moment for him to drum them against the wood, because he was already eager to jump up to leave, although he needed McKinnon, so he had to play nice. “Really. Probably a hit dehydrated because the tomb was torrid and I was stuck inside for a couple days.” Gus waved his hand like it was perfectly ordinary , but then he tugged at his collar sharply and fanned the neckline of his shirt with two fingers.

He leaned back slightly, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck like this was what he had meant to do the entire time. Sweat was starting to bead there, but he ignored it. Gus then tried to offer McKinnon a bright smile like it was proof that everything was fine and dandy. “I just need you to sign off on that parchment so I can get going. We’re headed to the jungle.”

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The moment that Lissington raised his head, Derek let out another laugh. He couldn’t help it - even if Derek had to walk through the rest of the day with animal dung stuck to his behind, this moment would have made it all worth it.

“If you were fine, you wouldn’t be here and neither would I now, would we?” Derek countered gleefully, letting out a sigh as he conjured a stool in which to sit across from Lissington as he rummaged through his healer’s kit. It didn’t surprise him to see the younger man at Gringotts, much less to hear the fact that he’d been stuck inside a bloody tomb for the past few days. Derek himself gave a visible shiver paired with a grimace that told Gus exactly what he thought of the idea of being stuck inside a cursed tomb.

“You cursebreakers and your thirst for danger,” He admonished, tsking as he waved his wand to cast a simple diagnostic spell over his patient. The chart above them glowed a warm amber. Dehydrated indeed. Derek eyed the parchment before tracking the beads of perspiration he saw slowly forming on Gus’ brow and the back of his neck.

“Not so fast there, Lissington.” Merlin, if Gus was a kid he’d already be halfway off his seat and Derek would be seizing the back of his shirt to hold him still. Thankfully they weren’t quite there. Yet. “You’re extremely dehydrated and -” He cast another, more complex web of diagnostic spells before grimacing again. “- there’s a problem with your body temperature, it looks like.” Gus Lissington wouldn’t be going anywhere for quite some time.

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