Jack had picked a hell of a time to start studying muggle medicine. Inspired by his conversation with Mrs. Rowle at the flower show back in May, Jack had spent his summer volleying between spending time with Emerson and falling down the rabbit hole of recent medicinal discoveries in both magical and muggle settings. He'd started with basic muggle medicinal textbooks, helpful in that he already knew all of the anatomy; incredibly informative in what one could do without magic to help save a life. The understanding of different strains of viruses and bacteria; the sterilization of their medical instruments; breakthroughs in preventing certain illnesses from rabies to different kinds of pox; it was all utterly fascinating. He'd taken to subscribing to modern muggle medical journals and read articles in their libraries in his free time.

Never in his wildest dreams did he think his new knowledge would be of immediate and necessary use.

Then a sinkhole opened up in Padmore Park where magic was useless.

His ward was of no particular use, but he had dispatched healers along with the rest of the hospital while he himself had gone to London and back to get as many supplies as he could that he thought might be of some use. Mostly he just hoped his knew knowledge would be able to help down in the hole. He'd done his best to give as many of his colleagues and co-workers as much useful information as he could, but Jack knew he couldn't sit by idly and let everyone else take the risk. By the second day a better plan to help had been figured out and Jack had volunteered to head down into the sinkhole armed with his new knowledge, a heavy satchel of what he hoped were useful tools and medicines and the smallest, most informative book he could carry.

What he didn't have, was any idea as to what to expect at the bottom of the rope.