Nella Dursley and the Wondrous World of Magic

St. Mungo's and The Potter House

St. Mungo’s, a sort of wizard’s hospital located in London. If a witch or wizard couldn’t cure themself at home, or a student of Hogwarts needed more than the nurse had to offer, or if a poor muggle, a nonmagical person, minding their own business in the UK was involved in a serious magical accident this is where they all go.

Nella squeezed Mr. Potter’s hand nervously.

She didn't like the place it reminded her of her other unfortunate visits. If Harry tried to offer a reassuring smile, Nella didn’t see it. She only stared straight ahead at Purge and Dowse, the abandoned department store front to deter muggles from unwittingly entering a place that would be highly disturbing for themselves.

Harry approached one of the more outrageously seemingly windswept mannequins through the window of the derelict department store, “I am here with a patient, Nella Dursley,” he said. The mannequin nodded and beckoned forward so that Harry could lead Nella through the window to the other side.

Through the window, the room changed instantly from drab to a very clean-smelling reception area.
The floor was tiled but covered in softly colored rugs with little patterns. The chairs, and benches were comfy looking but all these little details didn't keep the sound of fire-breathing hiccups, insatiable tap dancing, and other concerning noises down to a comfortable level.

Even with everyone in robes of varying color, and a few in muggle clothes, like jeans and a jumper, the staff was easily identified by their lime green robes and embroidered emblems of a bone and a wand crossed in a ‘t’ shape. A small line of injured and sick was formed in front of the mahogany reception desk but Harry passed this line, through double doors into a narrow corridor.

“It's slow today,” Mr. Potter commented, throwing an additional comforting smile. Nella nodded, agreeing. The smaller number of patients was nice, she didn't feel as panicked as her other visits, but that might have been because this visit wasn't as urgent as her others.

Nella was to attend Hogwarts soon and a pre-check-up was advised, or more accurately, required before she attended. Unlike other patients her age brought to St. Mungo's, she didn't question why she was brought to a hospital even if she wasn't feeling particularly sick or had giant elephant ears charmed over her own. She knew exactly why.

Magic.

Almost a curse word in her mind. It caused her much grief, or at least only when she used it. Mr. Potter used magic; Mrs. Potter used magic and Teddy and the Weasleys and any of the other families who were either apart or friendly enough to visit the Potters used magic without much fuss.

However, when Nella used magic, always unintentionally, accidents seemed to happen. Sometimes they were small, some loud noise would scare her enough to cry, and suddenly if anyone had their hand on her shoulder, perhaps to calm her down, they would receive an uncomfortable zap and pain on the place of contact.

Then there were bigger accidents, like the one that sent her away from home. Nella wasn't a Potter, she was related, but distantly. She used to live with her own family, Dudley Dursley who was Mr. Potter’s cousin, in America before she started the fire. That was roughly three years ago, and although Nella knew she used to live quite happily with her previous family, something awful happened. A fire, which had “traumatized” her.

That's what adults said, and she couldn't remember much before moving to the Potter's house. She mostly remembered the fear of herself being trapped in the blaze. She still feared fire and had huddled closer to Mr. Potter after some of the fiery hiccoughs blew angry flames out of some poor wizard's throat in the reception area.