Growing Pains

Chapter 13

Growing Pains

"Reuben, what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm just having a look, Jeff," Reuben said as he lifted the bed sheet. "I didn't come all this way for nothing."

"You're going to wake Alastor," Angie scolded, taking a seat in the corner. She placed an arrangement of flowers on the table next to her. "He's had a rough night. Let him sleep."

Moody grunted, his head face down on his pillow. He lifted it up long enough to say, "Not to worry. His smell woke me up the moment he stepped in."

Reuben grimaced at what he saw beneath Moody's bed sheet. "Unsightly, that is."

Jeff walked by and, after peeking over Reuben's shoulder, merely shrugged. "I've seen worse."

"Angie, come have a look-see."

Angie was focused on sprucing up the flowers she had brought but had the presence of mind to respond, "Yes, that's lovely."

Reuben continued to gaze at Moody's mutilated bum. "It's completely gone."

"It's just my butt-cheek, you prat." Moody buried his face in the pillow. "The way you're going on, you'd think I'd lost me whole leg."

"But, Alastor, it looks like shriveled haggis," Reuben said, chuckling to himself. "How do you go to the bathroom on that thing?"

"Well, it's just the left one, Reuben," Jeff replied. "He can obviously lean on the right one to do his business; that one's still nice and plump, at least."

"When you're both done gettin' an eyeful, why don't you bend down and kiss what's left of my arse."

"At least you got your health, mate." Reuben draped the sheet over Moody's backside. "All's well that ends well, I always say."

Angie had since walked over to place her vase on the nightstand next to Moody's bed. Jeff leaned over the bouquet to sniff one of the roses. "Flowers hardly seem appropriate now," he said. "I guess we should've bought Alastor a sidesaddle for his broom instead."

"You blokes lay off." Angie swatted Jeff's hand when he tried to pick one of the orchids out of the arrangement. "Can't you see that Moody doesn't want to be the butt of your jokes?"

Jeff rubbed his hand. "Ah, it doesn't bother Alastor; he'll just turn the other cheek. "

Moody didn't bother to lift his head from the pillow as he replied, "I've had quite enough cheek from you blokes already, thank you very much."

Loud footsteps marked the arrival of another entrant. The nurse, carrying a tray of salves and medical implements, walked briskly to the back of the room and placed the tray on a utility cart at the foot of the bed.

The nurse adjusted the glasses on her face, giving the visiting cadets a severe look as she did so. "I'm afraid I'm going to need some time alone with the patient."

Jeff, Angie, and Reuben said their goodbyes and left quietly.

When they were alone, the nurse picked up the clipboard attached to the bed's foot-rail and read it over thoughtfully. "So, how are you feeling this morning, Mr. Moody?"

The sound of her familiar voice encouraged Moody to look up from his pillow once again. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled when he recognized his caretaker. "Well, if it isn't the Head Girl. Fancy meeting you here, Miss McGonagall."

"It's nice to see you're in good spirits given the state that you were in upon your arrival." She replaced the clipboard and lifted the bed sheet to uncover his bum. "Do you have another giant-related injury for me today?"

Moody blushed and returned his head to his pillow. "Oh, you remember that, do you?"

"It was hard to forget. I also recall advising you to avoid the practice."

"Then you'll be glad to know that I took your advice," he said, grinning. "This time it was Dementors, those buggers."

"A Dementor did this?" she asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow. She examined the injury a while longer and finally lowered the sheet. "Well, you're lucky. The tissue seems to be regenerating nicely. You should be done by the end of the week."

Moody's head snapped upwards, and he winced. "A week? I can't stay in here a week! They'll bounce me out of the program. Is there any way to speed up the process?"

McGonagall looked down at him over the rim of her glasses. "Yes, but it's going to hurt like the dickens."

Moody returned her glare. "As long as it gets me back on my feet."

McGonagall continued to eye him but eventually backed down. "Very well."

He watched McGonagall close the door to the room. "So, you're a healer now?"

McGonagall walked over to the medicine closet, ignoring his gaze. "No, I still work at Hogwarts."

"Teaching medicine, I presume?"

She did not answer right away, continuing, rather, to rifle through the items on the shelves and finally managing to fish out three metallic canisters. "No, Transfiguration."

"Really? So, what are you doing here at St. Mungo's?"

She walked back to his bed, levitating the canisters along with her. "I'm undecided as to where I should continue my studies, so I'm keeping my options open."

"A wise policy." Moody hesitated upon closer inspection of the canisters, which were all labeled with ominous sorts of warnings. He was beginning to have second thoughts. "Not that I'm ungrateful, mind you, but do you have much experience with this sort of procedure?"

"I assure you that I am completely qualified. There's no need to be afraid," she replied with a sly smirk.

Moody looked away and rested his chin on his hands. "I didn't say I was afraid."

McGonagall removed the bed sheet and sat next to him on the mattress. She mixed the contents of the various canisters and sprinkled the resulting blue powder over Moody's affliction, causing it to bubble. "I've seen men twice your size cry over procedures such as this. There's nothing to be ashamed of if you need to belt one out."

"I see your bedside manner has at least marginally improved."

"Quite unintentional to be sure," she said, positioning her wand over the strange chemical reaction. "Maybe it will inspire you to review elementary wand safety practices."

"What's that supposed to mean...BLOODY HELL!"

"Are you okay?" she asked, more as an afterthought than actual concern.

"Peachy," Moody managed to grunt. "So, Transfiguration... wasn't that Dumbledore's specialty?"

"Yes, it was. In fact, I'm interning under him."

"Interesting." He felt his shoulders tighten. "So, how's it going so far?"

"Surely, you don't want me to bore you with the details of my continuing education, Mr. Moody."

"If you don't mind." He paused, struggling to keep the discomfort out of his voice. "I'd actually enjoy the diversion."

"I see," she replied with a knowing smile. "If you must know, I was intrigued to discover that there is a lot of overlap in principle between the practice of healing and that of Transfiguration."

"Really?" Moody swallowed quietly. "Fascinating."

McGonagall continued to work with her usual efficiency, paying no heed to Moody's occasional sounds of distress. After several minutes, which seemed more like hours from Moody's perspective, the task was completed. "There, now. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Quite relieved, Moody sighed deeply and allowed his shoulders to slump. "Are you sure that wasn't a Cruciatus?"

"Don't be such a baby."

Moody could have sworn he had heard a chord of amusement in her voice. The notion was put aside, however, when her hands started to massage his newly regenerated bum. He felt his shoulders stiffen again. "Er... what are you doing?"

"Checking for symmetry. This is a critical step."

Her hands were soft and gently cupped his flesh as they switched from one cheek to the other. He tried his best not to focus on the sensation but inevitably found it necessary to shift his hips in response to a newfound lack of available free space beneath him.

"Lie still," she snapped. She placed a hand on each cheek and squeezed firmly. "Okay. Flex for me as hard as you can... very good... now release."

"Are we quite done?"

"Almost. Now sit up."

Moody blinked. "What?"

"I need you to sit up, Mr. Moody."

"... Why?"

McGonagall crossed her arms, looking slightly annoyed. "Before I recommend your release, I have to see if your bum can bear your weight."

Moody closed his eyes and concentrated. Dead cats... drat, no good.

"Come now, I have other patients to see."

A Nun riding a three-legged Centaur wearing Granny's knickers... Crap, I'm just making it worse.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Moody?"

He looked at her, his expression pleading. "Um, I think I need a moment to myself, please."

McGonagall sighed loudly and walked out. "Very well, but only a moment. You've already put me behind schedule."

Moody waited until the door closed behind her and then redoubled his efforts. Let's see...Dumbledore... in a bikini... getting his legs waxed? Bingo, that's working!

The sound of the door opening interrupted his concentration. "I said I needed a bleeding moment!"

"Why? Am I interrupting something?"

He turned on his side and looked towards the familiar voice. The woman he loved stood there, smiling at him with her piercing grey eyes. "Druella."

Druella came to his side and started to stroke the hair on his head tenderly. "I heard what happened. You had me so worried."

"No worries necessary, pet. Wave of the wand and I'm good as new."

She pouted and sat next to him on the mattress. "When we get married, I want you to take a desk job."

Moody took her hand in his. "Dru, I'm an Auror. There's no desk job for an Auror."

"Then come and work for Daddy." Moody rolled his eyes at her suggestion, but Druella persisted. "He likes you."

Moody snorted. "Yeah. Your dad likes it that some bloke wants to put his wand in his little girl." He sat up carefully.

"Marry me, and this little girl will let you," she replied with a mischievous giggle. Her pout returned when she noticed him wincing. "Why are you leaning like that?"

"This is my good cheek. I'm not supposed to put weight on my bum yet."

"Then lay back down, you silly git." Druella pushed him onto his stomach. She proceeded to rub the muscles of his back and shoulders. "I can't stay long, but I'll check on you later. In the meantime, you should get some rest."

"Can't you stay a bit?" Moody said between grunts of approval at her ministrations. "I'm practically at death's door."

"Aww, mon bébé, I'm so sorry." Druella's affectionate hands continued to caress his lower back until they found their way to his bum. "Shall I kiss it to make it feel better?"

"The fact that you feel the need to ask must mean that I am not doing my job as a boyfriend."

Druella grinned knowingly and leaned over to kiss him on the forehead. "Feel better, love."

Moody watched her leave, taking in the sight of her gorgeous figure as she went. Alone again, he planted his face back on his pillow, the thought of her touch fresh in his mind. No sooner did he start to drift off when the door opened again. The sound of a woman's footsteps prompted him to look up from his pillow, half-expecting to see that Druella had changed her mind and decided to stay longer. He almost shrieked when he saw Nurse McGonagall standing over him instead.

"All right, then, Mr. Moody. Up you go, now."

Dumbledore in a bikini... Dumbledore in a bikini... Dumbledore in a bikini...