September 25th, 1890 - St. Mungo's
@'Marie-Louise Skovgaard'

A week was enough. He had to get out. He'd missed his own birthday! The bruises were fading, yellowed out and he could breathe without being in pain. Clearly it was time to break out. He'd been testing out standing and walking between nurse visits. He could do it without too much pain in his ribs now, move around enough to make an escape home to his mother's house where she could fret and dote on him in peace and he wasn't totally bored with other people about.

He'd been able to toss a shirt over his injuries for the most part, a little careful transfiguration and he was covered respectably. With the help of magic he'd gotten himself dressed well enough to pass healed and hew as going to make a break for it.

After his last nurse had left for the evening (and he was well aware of the shift change) he'd worked up to getting himself up and out of bed and presentable. Peeking into the hallway, he hadn't seen anyone about and decided this was the time to make his run for it.

Unfortunately for him, he hadn't made it very far, attempting to peek around the corner when he found himself face to face with a very pretty set of blue eyes. "Miss Skovgaard, fancy seeing you here."

Ah shit.

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While Malou was not a night person she enjoyed the night shift. There was a certain calm quiet quality about it that appeal to her introverted nature. Unlike in the light of day she often did not have to project such a confident aura about herself, instead most patients just needed her to reassure them quietly as she went about the few tasks needed by them and then blended back into the dim halls of the hospital.

It was late enough now that most of her patients were asleep as she made her rounds, checking through the windows of doors to make sure they were alright, her steps light on the wooden floor. She hadn’t bothered to do a light charm, instead she simply got use to the dim light in the halls, if an emergency came up she would certainly, but until then there was no reason to give extra disturbance to those sleeping.

Rounding a corner Malou came to a startled stop, her heart leaping into her throat at the sight of a fully dressed man in front of her before she recognized him. She would blame the shock on the fact that a murderer was targeting Fallon.

“Mr. Hatchitt.” Despite Malou’s rapidly beating heart she put on her best healer smile to accompany her gentle words. “And what are you doing out of bed?” She asked conversationally. The last she had checked, because for Fallon’s sake she had taken an interest in the case, Mr. Hatchitt was due to be in the hospital for a few days yet given the extent of his injuries.

  

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Despite her perfectly pleasant approach, Jess had heard enough from Fallon to know that Miss Skovgaard was a no-nonsense sort of healer and he was going to have to push the boundaries of his charms to get away with his escape now.

"Stretching my legs, I'm afraid I can no longer be quite so idle for fear I may go mad." He appealed with a charming grin. Was hoping if he could make it look like he was just ambling about for a bit of a stretch, maybe she would get pulled away for something more pressing and he could slip out.

"I didn't realize you were on the night shift." Or he would have tried sooner. "Doing well this evening?" He kept his voice hushed, knowing it was late, but he was trying to play it cool.

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Malou surveyed him with a look that stated her disapproval and disbelief better than her words would. "I see. Perhaps you would like to join me on my rounds then?" She asked smoothly. He certainly wasn't the first patient to make up such an excuse at this time of evening. It happened every year or two by her recockoning.

"I am from time to time." Malou admitted in her quiet voice. "So far I am." Unless the patient in room 913 decided to be any more difficult.

  

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Ah rats. Jess knew that look. He'd received it enough from his mother or one of his sisters over his lifetime to know exactly what she was thinking; she didn't believe him, not one bit. Jess was no moron, but he also wanted out of this damn hospital a bit too much to give up just yet.

"Oh no, I'd only be in the way, still not moving as fast as normal." Or at all really. "Just one lap then back to bed." One lap around the hospital that led to his own bed, yep. That would do the trick.

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“Not at all.” Malou was quick to assure him with an understanding smile. “I’d rather enjoy the company and I don’t mind moving slowly.” She’d had plenty of patients over the years that she had slowly walked around as they regained their strength. “One lap.” She agreed although if she still felt she was attempting to leave after that she’d have to think of another plan.

They began to walk down the hallway of the wing together, Malou adjusting her pace to match his. She was quiet as she sought about for safe topics to converse that would not indicate just how much she knew of him. “I take it you do not like to be idle.” Malou settled on an observation, careful to keep her tone quiet.

  

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Jess knew his plans were sunk. She was far too cordial about, but there was no arguing with that underlying tone she had. Now he really know what Fallon meant. Not to mention Jess usually had a hard time saying no to such a pretty face.

"One lap it is." Another night of sleep and maybe he could slip out in the morning at the next shift change. Maybe. "What is about healing that calls to you, Miss Skovgaard?" He was always curious about the professions that people chose for themselves. As he shuffled down the hallway with her comfortably, he figured he may as well make some small talk. Plus it wouldn't be a bad idea to get to know Fallon's best friend a little better. Fallon sang her praises often, but Jess knew woefully little about Miss Skovgaard outside of her fierceness in friendship.

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   Fallon Gillespie

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“I always wanted to help people.” Malou’s voice was gentle as she thought back on her decision. It had been an obvious choice then, at least until her parents had died. Her father had always encouraged her curiosity and her mother her compassion, but neither had anticipated this would prepare Malou for such a life. When they had passed away it was the most hopeless Malou had felt, she often wondered had she been there might she have saved them. Instead she had been trussed up in taffeta dresses making banal comments about the weather during the season. It had never been her plan to be simply a wife, in fact she had already applied for an internship when she received the news of her parents, but when they passed she had known that that was what they would want for her. It had been the only time she had wavered from her goal. “It seemed the best way to do that.” She continued after a pause.

“And did you always wish to work in magical accidents?” Afterall the two careers were not entirely dissimilar, they dealt with the same things if in rather different ways.

  

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It fit, thought it wasn't much of an answer, Jesse was not one to pry. Her turning the question around on him was expected, but Jess had to chuckle nevertheless. "Not quite, I knew I was headed to the Ministry, but hadn't quite chosen where." He had briefly thought about the aurors office as well, but after seeing what it had done to Gabe over the years, he hadn't thought it a good fit for him.

"My elder brother is also and auror, but that wasn't of interest to me. I excelled in Transfiguration and Defense in school and after a career fair at Hogwarts, thought it was a good fit. I enjoy it much more than anticipated." It definitely wasn't a boring department. Jesse was thrilled with the fact that he was often kept on his toes and no two days were the same. "Helping people is a nice bonus, and it's often fun and it keeps me on my toes, which I need. I couldn't do a desk job well." As evidenced right now.

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So many of the boys she had gone to school with had felt themselves destined for the Ministry of Magic, for careers pushing papers, enforcing laws, and maintaining laws. But Marie-Louise, if she were to be entirely honest, had never really felt the appeal of such a job. "Do you mind, if I ask why you knew you were headed to the Ministry?" She had never dared to ask her classmates such a question, but it seemed a terribly dull job when compared to the practicality of healing. Then again, there were plenty like Fallon, who had found an exciting career as aurors and she supposed she could see the excitement in that. But many of the Ministry's jobs lacked the appeal. Surely they couldn't all have desired to be an auror only to not meet the requirements to do so?

It seemed that Mr. Hatchitt was just one of those men who would prove that not everyone wanted to be an auror. Malou's lips pressed into a quiet smile at that, glad to see she wasn't entirely misguided in that thought. She chuckled as he continued his explanation. "It does seem a good fit." She agreed, for the little she knew of Mr. Hatchitt. "I'm not sure my parents would say the same of my own career." She admitted, surprised to find herself saying as much to someone who wasn't Fallon, who hadn't felt the depth of her own insecurities. But there was something about Mr. Hatchitt and his personality that seemed to impress on Malou that she could share such a thing, or perhaps it was the quiet of the evening and the fact that her company was someone she knew not just professionally anymore given her ties with Fallon and Mr. Hatchitt's ties to Fallon.

Nights on the ward could be lonely, leaving too much time for reflection if one's thoughts tended that way. It sometimes left Malou wondering what her life would have been like if she had fallen her mother's wishes for her. If she had debuted and found a match. She might have settled down by now with a respectable British gentleman, minding a house of her own. Her conversations might be with the staff instead of her patients and nurses. She might have found herself raising money for the hospital through fundraising events that she would loath and talking to a small circle of women she had nothing in common with and who would only whisper behind her back of the oddity of her accent. In all those envisionings she could not see herself being happy. Perhaps when a child or two came around she might give them her love and affection but she suspected a part of her would always have regretted the choice not to follow her dreams and plans, to merely settle down as if there wasn't a greater good she could have contributed to. But her parents would look down at her from Heaven and they would be happy with her decisions. She could never be sure of that now. Even if she had done as they wished would she even be sure of that they would be happy with those decisions either?

  

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Jess chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "Quidditch wasn't really an option, though I would have liked it to be." The glory didn't quite outweigh the pay unfortunately. "Seemed like the logical option since my brother had already gone in." Jess shrugged a little. "I honestly didn't know what else to do with myself." He wasn't all that good with his hands, so a craftsman or something of the like wasn't possible. He didn't have the financial backing to go into a business, plus he had no interest. "Luckily I found a department I truly enjoy." Anything that had him at a desk more often would have been a disaster.

"Really?" Jess was surprised to hear that her parents wouldn't have chosen healing for their daughter. Then again, a lass of her station didn't need to work either, so perhaps that was what they would have preferred. He clearly didn't hold with such notions, work or don't that was a lady's choice, not anyone else's Neither of his sisters had found occupations, instead went straight into marriage and motherhood, but he could see Fallon doing that. Miss Skovgaard perhaps, but he rather thought healing a good fit for her, she certainly had the disposition for it. "Why would you think that, certainly they're proud of your work?"

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Over the years Fallon had tried to impress her love of quidditch into Malou, she and Mari both, but Malou had never seen the appeal of it. Even those who played it seemed hardly appealing to her, although the girl chat between the others indicated that perhaps she was the only one to feel this way. Malou, though, preferred a man's intellect and disposition to his build and ability to play a sport she did not understand nor care to understand. Over the years the fangirling of the others had never truly helped her with this, nor even her father's own enjoyment of the sport. As Jesse explained her face gave away nothing of these thoughts, instead she wore the look she always did when intently listening to her patients. It was good to hear that he had fallen into a profession he enjoyed, despite it not being his first choice. It seemed to also be a good fit for him, in the little that she knew of him. "I am glad, it seems few are that lucky." She agreed, glancing at him with a soft smile before she looked into the window of a patient's door as they passed. "It seems to suit you." She added conversationally, although it was perhaps more candid then she might have said in the full light of daytime.

The mention of her parents as living brought back her own melancholy and had her avoiding Mr. Hatchitt's gaze and the sympathy and pity it would soon display. "They were not alive to see me become a healer." She admitted quietly into the dark corridor around them. The words seemed to settle into the sleeping ward around them. "They passed away the summer after I graduated from Hogwarts." She found herself explaining. "My mother always hoped I would make a fine marriage for myself and settle down, my father wanted the best for me." A good marriage in other words. Neither of them wanted a career for her, went unsaid between the pair as they continued their slow walk forward. Her godmother reminded her of the past often enough that Malou knew the torrent of feelings it brought up, knew the old objections and worries she had held. It was an old and well worn path, one she refuses to acknowledge she walked down as frequently as she did.

  

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It did suit him, Jess knew. His temperament, his capabilities, the Reversal Squad had been the right fit all along. The only drawback was the paperwork. That he could do without. It was a necessary evil however, and kept everything in check, so he supposed at least it served a purpose.

Well he'd gone and stuck his foot in his mouth. It was rare for him, but it did happen. "My apologies, it was not my intention to bring up the memories." Jess knew all to well how to suffer a loss and the unpleasant feelings that accompanied any mention of it. "I lost my sister in that year as well." If he remembered right, she and Fallon had graduated in '84, right before the Laughing Plague. Mercy had struggled with health issues her entire life, but the shock and hurt was still there, though buried deep down.

"I'm sure they would be very proud." Marriage would have secured her a comfortable future, but he sensed that may not quite have been what she wanted. At least she could be content knowing she was pursuing her passion.

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Malou looked over at Mr. Hatchitt with a forgiving smile. "There was no way for you to have known." It was easy to forgive him, to forgive anyone who wouldn't have known. It was so easy to assume that her parents still lived, hidden away from this society in their own very different world. But the truth was that Malou was much more alone than most people thought. With Fallon by her side and Mrs. Bagshot's nagging she could almost forget the loss, but it never really went away. She suspected it never would. Whether she had a family of her own or not it would never replace her own parents and the family - no, the life - she had lost. She'd never return to the manor nestled in the woods of Denmark nor speak her own language with the cook. Even with what had happened between her Uncle and herself she found herself missing him too. He'd lived away from them in the city, his own annoyances at the oddness of the family hidden. When he visited he'd more often then not speak to the servants and her father, but ignore her mother. Occasionally he'd indulge his niece in treats from the city and tales if she begged enough. Looking back she supposed she should have seen his disinterest in her. That the only reason he stayed tied to the family he disliked was because of the strength of blood. But she, and her father, hadn't seen the truth that had lingered, hidden in her Uncle's abode away from them - the revulsion he'd felt toward the magical blood that had never appeared in his own veins.

For a moment Malou found herself shocked that Mr. Hatchitt might be well enough informed to know precisely what year she had graduated from Hogwarts, but then she remembered his connection to Fallon. Surely Fallon would have shared the year they graduated from school with him, would have asked him when he had graduated even. It was an easy connection from there. "I'm sorry for your loss." Truly she was. No one should have to experience such grief at such a young age, it was part of what drove Malou as a healer, although there were limits to that even.

"Thank you." She murmured, as the sound of their quiet steps accompanied them. "I should hope they do." But she would always wonder. "I am more suited to this than the path my mother would have picked." She found herself admitting, a hand reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. Her mother might never have seen that even if she lived, but it was the truth. Malou would never have made a conented society wife. There was of course always the eccentric that might have married her, someone like the quiet Mr. Daniel Selwyn that Mrs. Bagshot had once suggested might pair well with Malou. But even then she knew the chances she might be allowed to continue working as a healer would be limited and the risk didn't seem worth it. No, she had given up on that life, that road, when she had chosen this one. She had known the risk then of being alone forever, but her friendship with Fallon and her work had always seemed enough that such a void in her life hardly seemed to matter. Perhaps it was because had never experienced love, or even a flirtation, with another, but she didn't feel she was missing anything at all.

  

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Jess conceded to her points. Didn't take away any of the sting however. Passing Miss Skovgaard a shrug and a sheepish smile, Jess could only offer so much on the subject of Mercy. It wasn't something he spoke about often, but it felt prudent at the time.

"I should let you get back to your rounds, They were approaching an intersection that would allow him to leave her in peace and to slip back to his room like a good patient. It didn't seem like the time of night to be giving anyone any trouble. Another night or two wouldn't kill him. Hopefully.

"Goodnight Miss Skovgaard, I hope the evening is quiet for you." He chuckled as he made to depart back toward his room

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