In the last chapter: It's back to Hogwarts for our sixth year, darlings! Tom is conquering the cubicles in his 9-5 as the hottest and most lethal pencil-pusher in history. Anthony discovers a familiar face in the seat of the new DADA professor and promptly has a meltdown because a Hufflepuff has never looked so dangerous. And Harry is basking in equal measures the joy of being reunited with his favorite Dark Lord, and anxiety over being sling-shoted right past an internship and into the residency program at St. Mungo's.

AN:/Hello lovelies! I know it's been a minute since I've updated, sorry! Hope y'all like the new chapter. Also, in the time I've been gone, I may have made some Harry fanart while definitely not procrastinating finishing this update lol! Y'all can check it out on my twitter at quill_obsidian

If anyone else makes any art they'd like to share, or if y'all would like to see me do some for Tom, let me know! Anyways, have a wonderful night, love ya! 3

Seven minutes.

Seven minutes ticked by, measured by the mechanical percussion of the looming grandfather clock in the corner of the office, while the two occupants of the room sat in silence. It was half-past six in the morning and the room still smelled faintly of a bitter dark brew tea and the acrid odor of reproach. The potion's professor hadn't looked surprised when Harry had knocked on his office door that morning, but other than a quiet sigh through his nose, the man said nothing as he stepped aside to let Harry in and returned to his desk. Despite not being offered, Harry took the seat across from him and crossed one leg over the other.

They both knew why he was there. And yet when he opened his mouth to begin this inevitable meeting, he was silenced by a rough, calloused hand lofted at him as the older man continued to read a long parchment that Harry had apparently pulled him from. He had come early that morning in his eagerness for the day's events, so with what his therapist would call a 'monumental level of patience' he folded his hands in his lap and waited. And waited.

Though, as patient as he would like to claim to be, there were places he had to be, and unfortunately, this was a necessary detour on his way to getting there. It had been to his ultimate displeasure to find out that the Hogwarts faculty in charge of managing and overseeing all independent study and off-campus work was none other than the infamous dungeon-dweller, Severus Snape. Much to Harry's chagrin, he had to confess that it made sense once he thought about the logistics of it. From what he'd heard from the rest of his year, the majority of students that deviated from the standard curriculum and sought out apprenticeships before graduation were, in fact, Slytherins. Specifically, purebloods or influential half-bloods that were looking to take over the family business, so to speak.

Even Draco would be leaving Hogwarts every once in a while, in order to accompany his father to the Ministry so that the elder Malfoy could pass down all of the trade family secrets. From how to connive a room of older, more powerful men into being his lap dogs, to the importance of a proper cologne when meeting new potential business partners. One could only hope the future Lord Malfoy used such power for good when it was his turn to take the mantle.

Which meant that today, on what was supposed to be his first day at St. Mungos as a resident, he was being held up by their mutual reluctance to interact with one another. While the potions professor had ceased being outwardly hostile towards Harry back in his fourth year when their animosity came to a head, they had both fallen into the unspoken agreement to simply ignore each other's existence. The older Harry got, the more he realized just how childish some of their earlier tiff's were, but also the more he came to understand that he would never truly know the full context behind the man's past relationship with either one of his biological parents and how that would continue to affect him to this day. In the end, it was just easier to ignore each other than try to build bridges that neither of them wanted.

Except that, now Harry had less than half an hour to get this over with and get Snape to let him use the floo in his office to get to St. Mungos on time for his first day.

"I believe we both know why I'm here this morning. I would greatly appreciate your cooperation so that we can both get on with our days." Harry prompted, straightening in his chair and despite the polite close-lipped smile he gave the older man, they both knew it wasn't a request. Severus glanced up from his parchment, just a long moment of those flat black eyes assessing him from under severe straight dark brows before they slipped away again with a quiet sigh.

With an unceremonious slap, a thick stack of parchment, sleeved and bound, was tossed onto the desk in front of him. He had his lifetime of restraint to thank for his ability to keep his face blank and his lips sealed at the rude gesture as he grabbed the stack and slipped them into his leather satchel for later. Harry did however, raise an inquisitive brow at the other man, looking for some sort of context. Severus' upper lip twitched in a phantom of a sneer.

"It's your supplemental work for the next month. You are to follow the included syllabi to keep pace with the rest of your year. You are free to attend or not attend any classes you wish while you are available, but regardless, you will be in my office every Saturday morning to take a short exam on what you were supposed to have learned that week. If you fail any of these exams, you will be automatically withdrawn from your residency so that you can focus on your school work." The older explained with his own unique brand of disdain and haughty condescension flavoring his tone. Par for the course, he guessed.

"This is the first I'm hearing about weekly exams." Harry knew he would have to of course prove that he was understanding and keeping up with his general studies, but he had kind of figured he would only need to do so once or twice a term, not every week. And considering how much was at stake if he were to slack on these exams, it meant he would become even more swamped with work than he had previously predicted.

"As I'm sure you can imagine, this situation is far from our typical internship or supplemental courses. Usually, you would only be leaving campus once or twice a week, and you would be required to attend any and all classes that were not overlapping the times you would be away. However, since this is not a 'typical' situation, and since you will be essentially working on a professional level and will likely be bringing work back from the hospital: we thought it was best to make all of your classes here of optional attendance and instead check weekly to ensure that your work at the hospital doesn't interfere with your education." Harry couldn't help but frown slightly as he imagined just how busy his life was going to become.

He was half-tempted to apply for the use of a time-turner from the Ministry. But that was miles of red-tape to cut through just to get his hands on one and while he knew he was going to be quite busy, when had he ever not been?! Hell, he'd even secretly mastered a whole dead branch of magic and entirely different language a few years ago, all while maintaining a normal life as a student without anyone the wiser. Not to mention he was also dealing with Death Eaters and Dark Lords scheming in the background at the time. He could handle this. Probably.

"Is there anything else I should know?" Harry asked, that drab wash of nervous and excited once more sweeping through his gut as he realized he had made it through his conversation with Snape with relative ease and it was almost time for him to leave.

"For now. I expect you here every other week day before seven to use the floo. Saturday's you will take a few short exams with me, and then Sundays you are free to do with what you wish. If you need to leave Hogwarts's grounds on a day when you are not scheduled to be at the hospital, just make sure you're here before I have to leave for my first class, and back before curfew, otherwise you will be locked in my closed office until morning." Snape drawled absent-mindedly as he returned most of his attention back to the papers on his desk.

Harry stood and politely thanked his professor, though by the dismissive shooing hand he got in reply, he was sure the man hardly heard him, or cared for that matter. Without any more prompting, Harry stepped to the right-hand-side of the office where the floo was waiting. With the familiar grit of floo-powder under his fingernails, Harry slipped through the pluming green flames and was cast out onto gleaming grey floors of polished speckled stone under the brilliant white lights of a clinical foyer.

This wasn't the controlled disquiet of Hogwarts' infirmary. It wasn't bumps and bruises and head-colds. It wasn't the occasional accident that was a quick bit of clever spell-work away from getting fixed. St. Mungo's entrance lobby was a chaotic jumble of green-robed healers weaving through ailing, disfigured, and hysteric wizards as they were either ushered or carted away to the appropriate wards for treatment.

To say that it was jarring would be a hell of an understatement. The front lobby looked more like the triage of a magical war-front, with the masses of injured, groaning wizards pouring in for rescue from whatever horribly botched experiment or quidditch accident had brought them in. Wide-eyed, Harry stood frozen in the small bank of public-floo's while his shocked gaze swept over the lobby with mounting anxiety. Mangled limbs clutched close protectively, angry red blisters scorched up glistening exposed skin, a panicked pair held onto the ankles of their giggling daughter who without their hold would have floated right up to the ceiling, a screaming hysterical woman covered in patches of dry dark green skin writhed in the grip of several healers as she was swept from the room on a stretcher, and a man not far from Harry sat with a bucket in his lap as he choked and coughed up what looked like clumps of wet-scarlet-slicked feathers.

The scene unfolding around was in and of itself overwhelming, but the whole thing was heightened by the magic that hung heavy in the air. Cold and wet like the breath of winter on the back of his neck, it rolled over Harry's shoulders in a familiar, almost tender sweep over his flesh. Death. It pervaded every corner of the hospital in its earthy, dewy scent. Turning most of his focus on that, and not the pandemonium of the room around him, it was only a matter of moments before Harry felt the lead-weight of his nerves fade away and he once more felt in control of his faculties. It ignited a spark of excitement in his chest that he typically only ever felt while performing necromancy or swathing himself in the gossamer fabric of the veil.

It felt like a calming barrier between him and the rest of the world, a weighted blanket to pull down on his tense shoulders.

He moved carefully through the shifting mass of patients waiting to be seen, trying to reach the welcome-desk that was manned by at least a dozen medi-witches in the center of it all. However, he immediately stopped at the call of his name when he was no more than a few paces from the desk.

"Mr. Potter!" Called an excited, vaguely familiar face as the man approached. He'd been one of the healers to test him at the Ministry. What had been his name again? One of them was called Greyson—he believed—and there was of course the vivacious medi-witch Crissy, so this must be-

"Healer Rostoff, what a pleasant surprise. To think we'd run into each other on my first day." Harry greeted with a friendly smile and held out his hand for the man to shake. With the way the man had approached him, Harry was fairly sure that their encounter was no coincidence, but considering Rostoff was one of the few healers who had been amicable towards him during his testing, he didn't mind offering pleasantries.

"I must say, it is wonderful to have you here with us today, Mr. Potter. You should know that your arrival has already caused quite a buzz through the hospital. There are those, including myself that expect great things from you. I hope I'm not being presumptuous." Rostoff beamed his enthusiasm and took Harry's hand in both of his own for a firm shake. His palms were a bit damp and his handshake a little too vigorous, but everything just broadcasted his genuine excitement and Harry couldn't find much fault in that, so he was careful not to let the slight discomfort he felt at the bit of residue left on his hand show on his face.

"Well, I hope your faith isn't misguided, Healer Rostoff, but there is still much for me to learn." Harry replied, words betraying a bit of his nervousness at the mention of the lofty expectations aimed at him. Merlin's sake, he hadn't even begun yet!

"Hub bub! If you keep on the way you did in your exam, you'll be a fine healer in no time, my boy." Rostoff waved his words away with a surprisingly loud belly laugh, resounding through the bustling lobby. "Now, how about I show you to the faculty area and get you started on your first day?" The man proposed, already holding his hand out to gesture for Harry to follow him back the way he'd come. Harry nodded gratefully and walked beside the healer out of the lobby and into a quieter bay of elevators wide enough to comfortably roll a medical bed through.

"I don't know how familiar you are with our hospital, but St. Mungo's is the largest and most advanced medical facility in the country. With six levels to the hospital, each level has been delegated its own department for different treatments and uses. The ground floor, as I'm sure you saw a bit of on your way in, is both the hospital reception and officially where we treat artifact injuries. However, since it is where most patients are first received, the major function of the ground floor is as an Accident and Emergency—or A&E—area." Rostoff said as they came to a stop and he pressed the call button for an elevator.

No wonder the ground floor had been so hectic.

"What about the other floors?" Harry asked as the metal doors slid open before them and they boarded the spacious elevator. He had only ever been to St. Mungo's a few times in the past, mostly for Sirius after he'd first left Azkaban, but those visits had been very brief and he'd always been flooed right into the appropriate department. He hadn't realized just how big St. Mungo's was until that moment and he was already regretting not taking the time to memorize the layout of the building. If Rostoff hadn't met him in the lobby, there was a very good chance he would have gotten lost and ended up late on his first day.

"Generally speaking, the first floor is dedicated to creature-induced injuries, the second is for magical illnesses and diseases, the third is potions and poisoning accidents, the fourth is spell-damage as well as our long-term ward, and the fifth floor holds our surgical ward as well as maternity. Most of these floors have additional wards and functions, but you'll become familiar with it all in the coming months. For now, the most important floor for you to remember is the third floor." Which was the floor they were going too in that moment.

"The potions and poisonings floor?" His voice lilted in confusion, pulling a hearty chuckle from the healer.

"The potions and poisonings department are our smallest and least busy ward, since most emergency potions incidents and poisonings are dealt with in the A&E and never make it to the third floor. And so, the rest of the floor has been dedicated to staff facilities." They stepped out of the elevator and Rostoff began pointing to hallways that branched off from the elevator bay.

"Down there you'll find mostly healer offices, though most senior healers will have their offices on the floor of whatever their specialty is. That hall will lead you to the canteen, library, and staff lounges. This one here will take us to the locker room, as well as the lecture rooms and the on-call rooms where you can rest if you're required to stay overnight." Rostoff was already walking down the hall and Harry had to quicken his pace to catch up, mind still cataloging all of the information being dumped on him in such a short span of time.

All of a sudden, things were zipping by all too fast and before Harry knew it, he was standing in the empty locker rooms with a standard bundle of sage-green robes in his arms with the instructions on how to find the lecture room for his orientation once he was dressed still buzzing in his ears. Blinking at the powder-blue metal locker number 27, Harry shifted his hold on the robes to one hand so that he could slide his wand out of his wrist holster. Just as Rostoff had breezily explained before ducking back out of the room, all he had to do was tap the tip of his wand against the metal door and it popped right open. Having registered his magic so that no one else could open it while in use.

Knowing the extra time that he had counted on earlier was rapidly dwindling, Harry was quick to shuck off his outer garments and step into the new sterile robes. A calming muted green, the trousers were a close but comfortable fit with a draw-string to keep them up. The robes themselves were the same pale green with long sleeves that were looser for a wide range of movement but have a long-buttoned cuff that covered half of his forearm so as to sinch the fabric in and keep it from getting in the way of his hands while he worked. The front of the robes buttoned off-center from his collar bone to just above his hip, where the rest of the fabric fell to just above his knees.

They weren't necessarily flattering by any means, the style being a little too outdated even for stagnated wizarding fashion, but they prioritized function over all else. The high coverage, along with what seemed to be a slew of protection charms imbued into the fabric, offered protection against anything from bodily fluids to random bursts of accidental magic. While Harry wouldn't be turning any heads in his resident robes, he couldn't help but feel a bloom of pride in his belly when he caught sight of himself in one of the mirrors mounted to the wall on his way out of the locker room.

It was finally starting to set in for him that he was actually doing this.

From slow afternoons of marking expiration dates on the potions Snape sent Poppy, to standing in the largest magical hospital in the British Isles ready to start treating his very own patients—under supervision of course—it felt unreal.

If only everyone was as excited for him to be there as he.

He heard the voices as an indecipherable mumble through the lecture room door as he approached. He probably would have ignored it and walked right in without a second thought—already cutting it a little close on time—if he hadn't taken a moment to register what was being said now that he was close enough to pick out the words through the door.

". . . some brat! I heard he hasn't even finished school yet. Can you believe that? I've worked my arse off for three years working part-time so that I could complete my internship, barely making a couple of sickles an hour, and some gold-spoon fecker thinks he can just buy his way into a healer-ship?! How is that fair?" A low-male voice grumbled, echoed by a few calls of agreement. It dripped ice into his veins, a snap of winter air in his breath at the acidic words.

Instead of confidently striding into the room like he'd planned moments ago, Harry moved on silent feet, sliding the door open just enough to slip in without being heard. Luckily, the door had been at the very back of the lecture room so that everyone's backs were too him. Therefore, nobody noticed when the room gained one new set of eyes and ears.

There were at least thirty or so residents in their matching green robes sat or stood about the room, waiting for their orientation to begin. Though, most attention was on a man stood closer to the front of the room, standing on the steps that led down to the black board and podium, arms crossed and a pinch between his brows. Whatever classical elegance could be salvaged from the cut and style of the resident robes was entirely lost on the man, seeing as the fluttering fabric of the sleaves were unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows to display two tanned and impressively muscled forearms, while his thick broad chest looked one wide stretch away from popping the buttons of his robes. Hair shorn close to his scalp, he looked more like a bulkier cousin to Viktor Krum.

"I mean honestly, how can they let a child treat patients? He has no experience or legitimate training! It's only a matter of time before he makes a mistake and a patient ends up dead. This is a hospital, not a bloody daycare!" A woman in her mid-twenties scoffed with a haughty roll of her dark eyes, nimble fingers tucking a lock of straight blonde shoulder-length hair behind her ear. The bulky man's lips curled in what could have been a sneer, or just a truly unfortunate smile.

"You don't know him Esmerelda, there must be a reason they let him into the program. He might just be very smart. It's not good to make baseless assumptions about people." Defended the woman sat next to her, rich brown skin glowing even in the cold florescent light, warm round doe-eyes turning to each resident around her, looking for someone else to speak up on the supposedly absent boy's behalf.

"He's Harry Potter, I'm sure we all know him plenty." The words snapped and bit out of the thin lips of easily the oldest wizard in the room, hair entirely consumed by silver and hard wrinkled face baldly stating the hostility he felt for the subject at hand. "He just couldn't leave well enough alone, and now he'll bring the entire circus of Ministry clowns down on this place. Yet another publicity stunt from the savior."

By then, a few residents closest to Harry had noticed his presence at the back of the room, glancing wide-eyed from him to the group still adamantly discussing him, completely unaware. Either they didn't care enough that he was there to let the others know, or they just didn't want to get involved.

"I don't give a rat's arse who he is. He could be the Minister's son for all I care! That bastard has another thing coming if he thinks he has any right to be here with the rest of us." The first man barked spitefully, turning as he said it as if to see if anyone would dare try to challenge his convictions. This, however, finally brought his attention to Harry, and it was clear that he immediately realized who he was. The man's eyes narrowed and when he stepped forward, people shuffled nervously out of his way. But Harry wasn't most people.

The others who'd been talking with him, including the girl who'd tried to defend him and a man with sharp cunning features and hair so black it looked almost blue in the light, stood from their seats or moved from their spots to follow him as he began to ascend the stairs towards Harry. He stood his ground, face calculatingly blank as the bodies around him parted like curtains to make way for the group. It didn't seem like they were a 'group' necessarily, not in the way Draco surrounded himself in his Slytherin posse whenever he wasn't with them. More like, the others were either too curious or too worried about what would happen next to stay away.

"Well, if it isn't his majesty, finally gracing us with his presence." The man's venomous tone curled around Harry like noxious potion fumes, stinging his airways in its acidity.

This was not how he'd pictured his orientation going.

Sure, he knew that there might be some push-back for his rather unorthodox admittance into the program and that the other residents might have trouble befriending him just because of the age-gap alone. But this . . . this reminded him all too much of Michael Corner and his little gang, it reminded him of Dudley and his flock of bullies. But mostly, it reminded Harry of a distant afternoon sat in an office that was now familiar to him, under the sharp scrutiny of a caring but no-nonsense witch.

'You're a strong wizard, Harry. And you know I'm not one for empty flattery, but we both know that you are far stronger than those your age, both mentally and magically.' She paused for a long moment, but Harry didn't thank her for the compliment, knowing that there was more left unsaid, and that, as she'd stated, she wasn't just trying to compliment him. She was trying to make a point. 'So why, then, are you so reluctant to stand up for yourself?' There it was, her point, driven home like a nail at the conclusion of a hammer.

They had been delving deeply into his childhood and first years at Hogwarts. Of course, Harry hadn't thought much about his cousin or early school-yard bullies. They seemed so insignificant in the context of his current life. Like a long-faded dream, the memories dissolved like seafoam without any substance. But, as always, if Edith was turning his attention to something, there was usually something worth noticing. He didn't always smell the smoke, but that didn't mean that there weren't fires in need of extinguishing.

'I . . . I guess I just don't want things to escalate. I know my own strength and most times, that just seemed like an unnecessary amount of force.' Harry answered as honestly as he could, mulling over his words to try to make sure they felt like the truth. He wasn't sure if he was successful.

'It is one thing to not want things to get out of hand and staying calm in the face of confrontation. It is a whole other thing to not fight back at all and allow yourself to be victimized because you don't wish to hurt someone else.' Harry opened his mouth, words of defense on the tip of his tongue.

'However, I'm not criticizing your past actions. There is no use in arguing over what you did so many years ago. Rather, I point it out now in hopes that you start to shift your perspective for the future. I'm not telling you to get into any fist fights,' she winked at him in a way that she always did when encouraging him to do something out of his comfort zone or even just a little wild, 'I can only ask that you start to nurture the same kind of vehement protectiveness and love you hold for others, for yourself. Fight on your behalf for once. You're a good kid, Harry, I promise you won't take it too far.'

This was probably one of those situations where the phrase 'easier said, than done' could be applied. Edith may or may not have been encouraging him to act out a little bit and stand up for himself in situations similar to this. But even if he really tried to take all of her—questionable—advice to heart, staring down his nose at the blatant aggression in the other resident's form, he couldn't say he felt very motivated to challenge the man's views. However, if there was anything Harry wasn't, it was a coward.

"My, for someone who claims to be so busy, you sure seem to have a lot of time and energy to be nosing into other people's business." Harry replied to his oh-so-warm and welcome greeting. He could practically feel the tension winding tighter in the man's jaw as he spoke.

"I try to make time for those who don't know their place and any other righteous asshole who thinks his fame and family's coin can get him whatever he wants." He spat out, looking Harry up and down pointedly.

"I was admitted to the program the same way everyone else here was: by taking the exam. Not a single galleon left my pocket, but if you don't want to believe me, you can take it up with the medical board or the ones who tested me. Or you can just wait and see for yourself." Harry felt something tingling like honeyed sunlight in his gut as he stared the other man down. His confidence didn't feel like his own, but Merlin did it feel good.

Leaning in slightly, Harry lowered his voice to a stage whisper, though it was likely still heard by those around them. "After all, if I really did cheat or bribe my way into the program, wouldn't that soon become undeniably clear? And if I didn't, then you might just have to admit that I'm just as qualified to be here as the rest of you. It wouldn't do well to kick up a fuss to your superiors, only for me to out-perform you." It was cocky and in total contradiction to many of the tumultuous insecurities that had been circling him recently, ever since he took his test and was advanced straight into a residency. However, even if Harry was overstating his confidence in his own ability right then, he was secure enough in the knowledge he'd cultivated and the experience he'd gained under Pomphrey, that he couldn't let the other talk down to him in such a way.

"You smug little ponce!" He made a move to draw his wand but the girl from before grabbed his arm and tugged it back before he could reach it.

"Blake! That's enough." She was small and otherwise seemed like a bubbly person, but there was a fierceness to her doe-eyes when she yanked the man's arm back and met his glare. None of the others in their rag-tag group seemed all that concerned with stopping him from cursing Harry, he noted. When he glanced at the other residents, stood watching them further away, a few looked down or away, while some held his gaze with some bitter feelings of their own. Great, it seems like I'm going to be the odd one out for a while. Harry vs. Everyone else. What's new?

"Morning everyone!" The room's tense silence was torn open by a door at the front of the room being flung out as a shorter, stout woman in signature vivid green healer robes strode into the room. Unaware of what she was interrupting as she practically bounced on the balls of her feet with leaking enthusiasm. Everyone turned to face her, though the group that had surrounded Harry to confront him remained where they were, tension still ringing a low, ominous note as secret glances were exchanged.

"Welcome to St. Mungos Hospital. My name is Francis Bagshot, my friends call me Fran, you lot can call me Healer Bagshot, or 'Your Emenence' if you're really in trouble." She said with all the dead-pan of a woman who valued her intelligence and humor above all else and would accept nothing short of the respect she had earned. "This year, I will be in charge of making sure you learn to become competent and exemplary healers, and that you don't end up getting the hospital sued for your stupidity. I don't care what school you went to or what famous tutors your mummies and daddies bought you, in my halls, under my roof, you are all the same ignorant bumbling sods. I'd appreciate if you left the knob-measuring for when you leave the grounds."

She folded her arms and leaned against the podium, comfortable and in her element. Harry could already tell he would like her.

"Now, you're all going to be getting the chance over the next year to observe and work in each department here at St. Mungos. This won't be like what you did for your internships, training wheels are off kiddies, it's time to hop on the broom or get off the pitch. You're going to be working on and with real people, you will have patients that you have to examine, diagnose, and treat. You will be helping our long-term patients, using emergency medicine in our A&E, assisting surgeries, and at some point, maybe even losing a patient even when you've done everything in your power to save them." She ended seriously and the words settled heavy and cold over everyone there. As much as they were all there to help people, there would be things that were out of their hands and they had to accept that.

After a moment to let her words seep deeply into their minds, Bagshot straightened slightly and sent the room a brief smile to lift the mood a little.

"While I'm sure you're all eager to get to work and some of you might even already have a preference for a certain department, we can't have you overcrowding certain areas, and neglecting others. You need a balanced experience, so I'm going to be splitting you up into groups of five or six and you'll be randomly placed on one of our six floors for a month before moving on to the next." Then, the shorter witch plucked her wand out of her pocket and flicked a golden spark out of the tip where it shot forward and zipped around a group of residents closest to her.

"Your group will start on the fifth floor, our surgical ward." With the wave of her sand-colored wand, the spark moved to encircle the next crop of residents. "You'll be on the fourth floor, and you guys will be on the third." She was going too fast for Harry or any of the residents closest to him to fully register what would happen next.

Just as Harry thought to move to another area, a gold spark was zipping around him and five other residents he would really rather not spend any more time with, proceeded with the announcement that they would be working on the ground floor, the A&E for the next month. The sentiment seemed mutual as the bulky resident—Blake or whatever—practically growled under his breath and snapped a scouring glare his way, as if he was to blame for them now being stuck in a group together for the next year or so.

His eyebrow lofted imperiously as he held the man's glare, uncowed and just as happy with the situation as he was. The others in the group sent him their own looks of disdain or annoyance, while the petite caramel-skinned girl offered him a hapless look of apology and a faint smile.

"You can acquaint yourselves with your fellow residents later. For now, all of you should head out to your respective floors and check in with your Attending Healer, who will be in charge of you in your specific departments. I wouldn't keep them waiting too long, some of them are right arses, but keep in mind that your futures at this hospital depend on them. Good luck!" She ended with a percussive little pat of the podium before giving them a wave and disappearing out the door she'd come in through.

As Blake's head was turned away and his attention was on something else, Harry secretly swept his magic through the veil to tug it forward so that brushed the back of the man's thick neck. The reaction was immediate, his words choked in his throat and he cringed away from the sensation that was likely less than pleasant. It was a little petulant and vindictive, but afterward, he heard a quiet raspy chuckle that sounded like winter's breath on a dry branch just behind his ear that offered him all the approval he needed. Harry was already walking away, so even if Blake was looking for the source of the sensation, he certainly couldn't pin it on Harry.

It was going to be a long day—a long year—but somehow, Harry kind of couldn't wait. Though I really use a cup of tea and the company of my favorite brunet after a whole day here. Maybe eventually I'll be able to wheedle out of here for my lunch breaks to visit the Ministry.