Animaux Fantastiques - Theseus Scamander

Et Qu'est-ce Qui se Passerait si?

THESEUS

"We sent a group of Aurors to check out the basement beforehand, piece things together and such," Fairbanks kept his voice low. "They barely made it out. Injuries like some wild beast mauled them. Petronella Fells, one of our newest, she's in Janus Thickly now. The Healers haven't seen anything like it. Not a hex. Not a curse. They can't fathom what it is. Not just that, the thing is invasive."

Theseus was trying not to let Fairbanks's description rattle him. "Invasive?"

"Yeah, expanding more like. We put up Containment Charms. Had to post in rotation. Didn't' have enough in our department. Just through here," Fairbanks lowered his wand, allowing the rain to fall freely without the magic. They made their way through a small back alley lit by lamplight. "We can't use the regular entrance; had to seal if off—security measures. We have to use the secondary entrance." He pulled the fire-escape ladder loose.

The second entrance to St Mungo's was through a second-story window.

The scene was far from what Theseus had imagined when he was finally inside the institution. There were many a healer on the floor, striding with purpose from one corner of the room to the next. The lime green colour of the healer's uniform blended into the background with the walls.

Those of the afflicted stripped of their board lingered in the lobby area to be seen to. Some were laying on reclining chairs, others balancing on crutches or leaning against the walls or sitting on the floor.

The moaning of the ailed was kept to a minimum. Giggles and laughter of delirium rang louder, bouncing off the pale green and cream-lined walls. But, by Merlin's Beard, Theseus was most glad that the smell was not afflicted by the stenches of sick and blood. Notes of bitterness, here and there, from potions and brews. And perhaps notes of a sticky sweetness; the humid smell of flowers in spring that weren't quite as pleasant to smell as they were glorious to look at.

His heart calmed a little, and Theseus became aware that he'd been holding his breath since he first stepped foot inside.

"Alright mate?" Fairbanks asked.

Theseus cleared his throat, "Who's in charge?"

"Uh- yeah, right... That'll be—"

"Me," a man appeared, seemingly out of thin air. A clipboard and quill followed him like an obedient pet. "Algernon Bancroft, Healer-in-Charge. Per your attire, I assume you're the Ministry fellows we've been told were coming? About time, might as well be Bedlam. Stretched too thin, not enough board and we can't even deal with what's in the basement until you lot give the say-so." Bancroft's status as Healer-in-Charge was marked by a white-collar fixed starchily to his neck and matching gloves that dangled from his hip, fastened by silver glove clips.

"Oh, you don't want'a go in there. The Basement," a patient sing-songed, having caught a snippet of their discussion. Her hair was silken, dark and long. Dark circles around the eyes and buck teeth that peeked out of her wide, unnerving smile. "You don't want'a go in there. Not there. It's alive you see. Alive." She gave a soft giggle. "A mind all its own. I can hear it. Pssspsspss. It whispers. Pssspssspsss. Whispers..." Then she yelled, lunging as if to attack before she pivoted on her toes and swung back onto the heels of her feet, laughing. The other patients were offset by her loud theatricality. The moans turned shrill, higher in pitch. Agitating for Theseus. "Then it eats you. Eats you whole! Like it ate him!"

"Calm now Mary, you're scaring the other patients," Algernon grasped Mary by the arm, exhausted of her in a perpetual way, like this was usual of her. He turned to one of the healers making her way over. "Jackie, take Mary to the Recreation room please."