25th December, 1891 — Artifact Incidents Ward, St. Mungo’s

The last week had been all very well, her evenings crammed full of holiday parties and Christmas balls; but Rosamund’s stretch of time off had come to an end on Christmas day of all days, although the best part of the day was over by the time her shift had begun.

Still, while Rommy didn’t mind another late shift spent in the hospital (and her family, full of healers as it was, would not miss her) she did feel a little stab of pity for the patients stuck in the hospital for the interim – whatever little festive flourishes St. Mungo’s could offer, and whoever might drop by to visit, it was hardly the ideal way to spend their day.

But visitor hours were over now and she was doing her rounds of the ward, the few patients they had in Artifact Incidents at the moment allowing her leave enough to take a little longer at it than on some nights. “How are you feeling now?” Rosamund inquired, to a patient they were keeping on observation overnight. “I meant to ask earlier –” she added gingerly, referencing the clearly hexed object that had landed them here in such a state today, “– but that wasn’t really someone’s gift to you, was it?”

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Christmas was a quiet affair in Nev's household - with only herself to attend to, she normally forwent a grand dinner and just had some sandwiches on a tray before the fire, allowing her staff to decamp to their respective families and she got a few quiet days to herself. She managed her dressing alone for the few days and the even fewer events she attended over the 4 days of Christmas. She opened her gifts alone on Christmas morning, still in her nightdress. When she had opened the box and her hands had immediately paid the price.

Cursed objects were not something that regularly landed on her doorstep - She suspected at least that there were 2 possible sources for the object. One was her uncle - a man who still held rather a deal of bitterness that her father had not willed his only child into his care, along with his estate. He didn't want her dead, but perhaps leaving her feeling vulnerable and without protection would be enough to force her hand to turn to him. The other was from that other family. The bad feeling between them had long lost most of it's teeth, but every now and then one of the younger cousins on either side would undertake some prank or other, sometimes they would be a little too 'rambunctious' in their execution and someone got hurt. Nev had never been on the receiving end, being one of the more obscure Montague's but apparently today was her day!

She was also sure that the effect was more than what was intended - she hoped at least. But there was no point in enflaming matters by sending aurors to their door, or indeed informing her cousin Robert, who would either go for his father or make matters worse with them. 'A prank gone wrong I think' she managed with a slightly pained chortle. The vase had been shattered when she dropped it but it had stopped her fingers and hands from swelling painfully -until they looked like clubs and were a blotchy patchwork of red and white.

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Lady is a wonder

Rosamund knew Miss Montague, a little, from Hogwarts; they had not been in the same year or in the same house, but she had always seemed a genuine sort of person. Not the kind of woman someone would want to curse, surely! It was horribly unfair, and Rosamund paused in her inspections of her patient’s swollen hands to pull a grimaced face.

“It must have been,” she agreed, with a slight shake of the head in disbelief. “I’m so sorry. And today of all days!” Rosamund glanced at her again in sympathy, sorry to keep her here so long – but the swelling would take time to be soothed down to see her hands their normal size and colouring. “Did it ruin all your plans?”

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Nev rather envied Miss Bones, she was from one of those socially notable families, and she had somehow managed to talk her family into allow her a career following her graduation from school. Nev imagined that if her father and mother had lived to oversee her social calendar that she would have gotten the freedom to spend as much time in her greenhouse as she had gotten away with doing in the years since her debut - or indeed absenting herself from the general festivities of Christmas in favour of reading by her own fire.

Benevolence let out a wry chuckle at Miss Bones' question, 'I'd few plans to ruin' she didn't want pity -oh look at the orphan with no one to spend Christmas with, 'Christmas is very quiet in my home.' she added by way of clarification, 'what of you?' she winced as the pain in her fingers caused her breath to hitch. 'It must be difficult working on a day like today?'

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Lady is a wonder

Oh. Rommy hadn’t thought – hadn’t considered that both of Miss Montague’s parents were dead, and that she had no siblings to be recalled. There must have been an extended family somewhere, but Rosamund daren’t ask and put her foot in her mouth twice in a row. (Not when she was meant to be making things better here, and not worse.)

But she bit back the apology on the tip of her tongue, trying not to prod at the wound or make herself sound any more thoughtless. “Not at all,” Rommy answered almost brightly, at least finding no harm in being sincere. “After a few days of the holidays I am quite desperate to be back for a little peace and quiet,” she explained in a confidential tone, casting a glance at the mostly-empty ward. Her extended family – her grandmother Hermione – had hosted their usual run of society parties that had left Rosamund quite exhausted before Christmas had even begun.

“And my mother and brother are healers as well,” she added, “so it is quite unusual to have us all in the house together to begin with. We are all glad to escape. And, fortunately for me,” she said, trying for a smile and hoping Miss Montague was not offended by her prattling on, “in my ward today there is only pleasant company.”

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It was rare for a woman like Miss Bones to search for any sort of employment - rarer still the sort of long and arduous work of a healer. Miss Bones, with her family and it's comforts, could well have expected to spend her Christmas's commanding staff to attend to her every festive whim. And yet here she was - far from the comforts of a Christmas breakfast and warm yule fire, attending to the sick and unfortunate. But as Miss Bones spoke Benevolence nodded, she could understand the feeling. Infact, she didn't hate her quiet and solitary Christmas tradition - it was a break, a change, a respite from the furor and hectic nature of the winter season. She could only imagine how overwhelming it might be if one had an exceptionally large family. It was part of the reasons she held Robert and his family at arms length - there were so many of them.

Inspite of the pain in her hands she laughed as the back handed compliment of Miss Bone's about her 'pleasant company'. 'How philanthropic you must all be to dedicate yourselves to healing, was this always what you wanted?' she asked, hoping it was not too personal a question. She had made something of a name in some circles as a horticulturalist, and she did often wonder if this would always have been her path, or if her fathers vocation had become hers by default. It was rare to meet another lady in the same boat.

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Lady is a wonder

“If we were so philanthropic, we probably would have dedicated ourselves to charity,” Rosamund joked with a smile. “I don’t remember how early I chose this course –” though she was sure she had always chosen it, rather than had it chosen for her by her mother’s direction, “but it was always something of a selfish passion. I was too interested in it to think of doing anything else.” She had perhaps caught the passion for healing from wanting to be like her mother, but she did genuinely enjoy it, more than anything. (She wasn’t sure she could have endured a schedule like this for anything less than a career she loved.) That it helped people was merely part of the appeal.

Miss Montague seemed like the sort of person to be genuinely passionate about her flowers, but Rosamund was too cautious to ask anything impertinent or candid in return, lest she did not. She merely carried on her check-up on the injured hands in question, hoping Miss Montague might supply an answer of her own accord.

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Benevolence chuckled at Miss Bone's wry observation, the pain in her hands was lessening, or perhaps the pain killer potion was finally kicking in, and she was better able to focus on the conversation to hand.

'I understand that I cannot imagine doing anything else' she admited to the other woman, plants had been a part of her life from the moment she was out of the womb. Her father had planted an alder tree, a celtic tree that represented the concept of Benevolence on the very day she was born, it had flourished just as she had. The fact that she had a green thumb, the fact that plants seemed to bend to her will was almost secondary to the fact that there was a softness and romance to flowers that suited her temperment.

'Will there be any permeant damage?' she asked, challenging her fingers with a flex, the skin felt a little tight.

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Lady is a wonder

Rosamund smiled at that remark; that made perfect sense to her. “Yes, I would miss this terribly if I stopped,” she admitted – but was that still worth it, in the scheme of things, if it allowed her to settle down and start a family? She swallowed, chose not to think about it today of all days, and returned to the task at hand.

“No, not if I have anything to do with it,” Rommy assured her – she would have rather liked to curse the stupid person who’d pranked Miss Montague, actually. “The swelling might take a little more time to come down, but I can prescribe an ointment for any lasting soreness, too,” she explained. “And you’ll be back to tending to those flowers in no time – though, in the meantime, can I sneak you a Christmas pudding from the hospital tearoom?”

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Nev was more delighted than her features implied that she wouldn't be permanently maimed. While she was not yet ready to admit it out loud she was concerned for the good opinion of a certain someone and the idea of him taking her hand at the next ball and being confronted with maimed fingers was not the image she was going for, never really having been one for her ruminating on her own vanity, it was affronting to be confronted with the reality that she was every bit as vain as the obviously preening debutantes she through so shallow.

Miss Bones next comment stopped her dwelling on it and she laughed lightly, 'That actually sounds delightful, if there is one going spare!' she beamed.

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Lady is a wonder

Rosamund was confident in her abilities to heal this, at any rate; she was truly more worried about Miss Montague’s spirits, and everyone else’s in here today. It was hardly the ideal way to spend their festive season.

“Oh, there is sure to be some left over,” Rosamund assured her. “Besides, I have my secret sources,” she explained, with a brief flash of a grin – the tearoom’s food was often more appetising than that served to the patients in the wards, anyway. (Perhaps she would even source some Christmas crackers, too.)

“I won’t be gone long,” she added genuinely (though she was more worried that some of her patients might die of boredom overnight than anything else). “But do ring if you need me, Miss Montague.”

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Nev smiled at Miss Bones - hadn't this just been the most interesting Christmas day that she had had in some years. She would have a story to tell her cousins when she went to see them for new years. What could be more dramatic and entertaining than a trip to hospital on christmas day - and she would likely be home in time for her evening routines

'Thank you for your kind attention Miss Bones' Nev added quickly, aware that while the healer might try and source the treats but an orderly or porter would return them, her time too important to play fetch and carry with tea for a lady who had been the victim of an overly ambitious prank among her Chrismtas boxes. 'Merry Christmas' she called brightly after the healer.

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wrap? - Nev probably sent her some lovely flowers or a plant after wards

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Lady is a wonder