Setbacks

Chapter 2: Setbacks

There was an annoying noise somewhere off to the right, and whatever was making it was repeatedly crashing into her shoulder, which seemed to be bruised...the spot that the clock was hitting was starting to hurt, and the clock was hitting her hard. She brushed it off and buried her head under the pillow. If only she'd known better than to get such an irritating flying alarm clock...

Flying alarm clock? And it was hitting her so hard she had a bruise? Bugger, she'd overslept. Madam Murdoch was not going to be pleased. She hurried into a plain brown dress and shrugged her sensible lime green Healer's robes on over it, grabbed her emergency Portkey and hurried up to the Janus Thickey ward, barely pausing to sign in. She checked on the Longbottoms, who were having one of their better days, which she was glad to see; lately they'd both been suffering from an unusual amount of residual pain from Bellatrix Lestrange's curses. Despite Miranda's natural anger at the deranged witch whose Cruciatus had been strongly and repeatedly cast on these two poor brave souls, she couldn't help but admire the fact that although Bellatrix had been dead for over a year now, her work lived on. If only she'd used her formidable powers for niceness instead of evil...

Shaking her head to get rid of the slightly silly thought, she looked at her clipboard and saw that there were no other patients to see to but Lockhart that morning. Mr Greaves had been released last night and on Madam Murdoch's orders Miss Belfridge had been transferred to a hospital in Sweden where there were Healers who specialized in cases like hers. Miranda noticed this with some satisfaction; the Belfridge case had been particularly difficult for her and for Healer MacNamara (the only other Healer at St. Mungo's who specialized in conditions of the mind) to deal with. Perhaps she'd have a chance to catch up on some of her paperwork this afternoon. Ah, paperwork, the bane of every non-bureaucratic mind in existence...

Smiling slightly, she made her way to Gilderoy Lockhart's bed to check on him.

"Good morning, Mr Lockhart," she smiled. "How are you on this fine day?"

"Er... pleased to meet you, Miss?" he said, obviously confused. "Ah... could you possibly tell me, Miss, please... er... who am I?"

She sighed. "Sir, your name is Gilderoy Lockhart. You are a patient in the Janus Thickey ward of St. Mungo's Hospital. My name is Miranda Wentworth and I'm the Healer who's been treating you for your memory loss. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must speak with my supervisor for a moment."

*****

When Miranda had made her report, Madam Octavia Murdoch swore. "Are you certain, Wentworth?" she asked sharply. "He has lost his memories in their entirety?"

"I am quite certain, Madam Murdoch," said Miranda hesitantly. "He can speak, at least, which is an improvement over his last relapse, but when I spoke with him he could not even remember his name."

The elderly Healer swore again. "And he was making such good progress this time, too. Whatever could have happened to cause this?"

Miranda shrugged. "The only people present at the initial incident...besides our patient, of course...were two twelve-year-old boys who were, in my opinion, quite hysterical at the time, so I'm afraid that really it's anyone's guess. For all we know, there was so much power in the spell that it couldn't be used up all at once and therefore formed a sort of time-release in his mind, and he won't make a full recovery until it has wholly expended itself. After all, we have already ascertained that it was a very powerful spell that he was hit with, and in any mind there are only so many memories to forget."

Madam Murdoch nodded. "It is a possibility," she said slowly, drawing the words out until they were paper-thin. "I'll run some tests later myself. In the meantime, Wentworth, I believe that you know what to do, having dealt with him in this state before."

Miranda gave a slight bow. "Yes, Madam Murdoch."

*****

Memory charms don't work as one might expect them to. Rather than erasing the memories that they are aimed at, they form a block between the conscious mind and the memories that that are supposed to be forgotten. Over time, if the witch or wizard hit with an Obliviate wants badly enough to remember what they've forgotten, the block will eventually crumble; the time that this takes depends on the individual's stubbornness and his or her magical power. Muggles, because of their lack of magical talent, cannot recover from the spell for this reason; Obliviators only need do their job once, and the Wizarding World is saved once again from Muggle memory.

A witch or wizard who is repeatedly hit with a memory charm will eventually build up a resistance...or even an immunity...to it. Gilderoy Lockhart is aware of this on some level, and his subconscious waits for the day when the truth can be known. He...for it is him, even if he doesn't know it...is unsure of when the time will come, but he knows that it will and when it does, the one responsible for it will pay.

But his conscious mind, which has taken so many hits that it is no longer certain that it is in fact his own mind, wonders why.

*****

Miranda stepped quietly into Madam Murdoch's office the next day, having received a summons there shortly after reporting for work. "You wanted to see me, Madam Murdoch?" she asked, giving her superior the customary bow.

"Come in, Wentworth," said Madam Murdoch absently. "I have some news for you concerning Mr Lockhart."

Miranda tried to clamp down on a sudden rise of panic. "Is he all right, Madam Murdoch? Has his condition deteriorated at all?"

The older witch raised an eyebrow. "Not all news is bad, Wentworth, and you would do well to remember that. In fact, I believe that I have discovered why he has been suffering all of these relapses."

Calming herself down slightly, Miranda schooled her features into something resembling her usual mask of professional composure. "That certainly is good news, Madam Murdoch. I hope that you don't mind if I ask, but what do you think it is?"

Madam Murdoch smiled. "Your idea of a time-release on his memory charm seems to have more than a little merit; when I examined the patient myself I saw that there was a considerable amount of power in the original Memory Charm. In addition, I have a contact at the medical library in Rouen; Madame Levasseur confirmed that there have been cases in which the victim of an unusually powerful curse experienced the effects of the curse several times in succession before it finally ran its course. Current research on the long-term effects of the Cruciatus Curse, particularly as applied to the Longbottom case, also appears to point to a possible time-release factor. Therefore, Wentworth, I have decided to grant you a most unique opportunity."

Miranda leaned forward, her heart pounding in anticipation. "What is it, Madam Murdoch?"

The Healer smiled. "You, Wentworth, are to investigate this rather unusual case. Mr Lockhart has been recovering in the care of this facility for nearly six years, and in that time he has been entrusted almost entirely to you. Therefore, I believe that you are uniquely suited to research his condition further. You are already familiar with his background, and furthermore, you...better than any other Healer in the employ of St. Mungo's...know how to get Mr Lockhart to trust you. I believe that this is especially important as I believe that you will need his help in the investigation of his case, particularly as his recovery progresses. Have you any questions?"

"None," she smiled. "Thank you, Madam Murdoch."

*****

Late that night, Amanda, cloaked and hooded against the night's chill, paced back and forth outside of her cottage just outside of Hogsmeade. That Madam Murdoch had ordered a new investigation was bad news, very bad news indeed. There had been several advances in the care of magical mental patients of late; even the ill-fated Longbottoms were beginning to respond to some of the newer forms of therapy, though it would probably be years yet before anything truly effective could be developed for such cases as theirs. If Murdoch were to figure out what was truly wrong with Lockhart there'd be hell to pay. All her careful planning would go to waste. She had to figure out a way to keep him befuddled without it being obvious. He'd been given to the best Healer in the Janus Thickey ward save for old Murdoch herself; she knew that very soon they'd be seeing the results of their faith in her.

As she brushed a strand of dark red hair away from her eyes she took a deep breath and willed herself to stop panicking. Calm down, Amanda. There's got to be a way out of this. Grandmother Pringle always said that there's always a crack that you can get through if you have eyes to see it. You just have to find it first.

At least she would be able to keep an eye on things unobtrusively as Wentworth went about finding a cure for that golden-haired fop. It was fortunate that at least she'd be able to keep an eye on his condition...very fortunate indeed, for if there really was a crack that she could exploit, she'd be sure to find it very quickly.

*****

Author's Notes: There's a nod to "Get Smart" in this chapter. See if you can figure out where it is. :)