Tempora Mutantur, Nos et Mutamur in Illis
Chapter7 Emergency contact
Ms. Pond didn't inform him that she would switch to another therapist, so he could count on seeing her at the full moon session.
"In case you haven't noticed, she DID leave the wand behind." In his head, Dr. Prince reminded him.
You can borrow either one you like and keep it for as long as your therapy lasts
"She just forgot it. It's a little bit tense back then." Snape refused to think that way.
"We shall see." Dr. Prince smirked.
She didn't show at the next full moon.
"Maybe she is not in town. She is on some TV show, and the schedule is crazy." Yes, that must be the case.
"She hasn't called since your LITTLE tension."
"She's busy! She will visit next month!"
"Sure, keep telling yourself that, and it will eventually come true."
Another month passed, still nothing from Ms. Pond.
It didn't matter. She was just a client. Clients came and went, and they had the right to do so. Dr. Prince could totally afford to lose a client.
"Sure, I can lose Ms. Pond. But what about Nymphadora?" Dr. Prince asked.
"WHAT about her? It's not like she didn't do it before. It's her habit, I'd say. Wondering what the werewolf did to deserve THAT."
"You DO understand bringing Lupin up is what got you into trouble in the first place?"
"Maybe that is what shapeshifters do: they just steal another identity and disappear from people when they feel like it!"
"Certainly, she won't change her current identity because of YOU."
"Get lost, you git!"
"You do realize you are talking to yourself now? It's NOT healthy, my professional opinion."
Dr. Prince was right. Only crazy people heard voices in their heads and talked back. It's called schizophrenia.
"It's about time you accept that she won't come back. Acceptance is the first and crucial step for recovery." Dr. Prince told Snape.
Dr. Prince was a good psychiatrist, yet he was wrong about one thing: There was nothing to recover from. She didn't break him.
What's done was done. Life went on. Just another woman walked, Disapparated to be accurate, out of his life. No big deal. Been there, done before. Snape could handle it well, as well as the last time.
"You exceed yourself this time, casting a woman away without actually insulting HER."
He took a Valium, muted his phone, and went to bed. Unlimited prescriptions were one perk of being a psychiatrist. He accepted that she would not visit today, and he had enough from Dr. Prince. A dreamless sleep was all he needed.
He woke up in the morning at 8:00. There were 11 missed calls from an unknown number, between 6:20- 7:40; the last one was twenty minutes ago. Who was so desperate to reach him in the early morning? It couldn't be his patients, as he only gave them his office number. Hesitantly, he called back.
It was from a hospital in Yorkshire.
Ms. Pond fell from her horse when shooting a daybreak scene in the moor and was hospitalized. They tried to contact him since Ms. Pond had named him as her sole emergency contact and granted him the legal power to act on her behalf before she was on tranquilizers.
"Would you please come and we can talk about her condition? It's complicated."
"I'm on my way," he realized one important thing, and requested, "No invasive test or surgery on her before I get here, please!"
He couldn't image what would happen if a Metamorphmagus were cut open under the impersonation. He doubted anyone knew. Come to think of it, he barely had any knowledge about Metamorphmagus except some random bits Nymphadora mentioned inadvertently in their conversations. In fact, he couldn't recall any books or records in the topic. He always considered her as a normal witch with a rare gift. It never occurred to him maybe Metamorphmagus were different from human beings in broad aspects, until now. Maybe that was where her illusion came from in the first place: the werewolf might be a more appealing companion!
What if she couldn't maintain her morph? She once said her magic would fade if she were in a fatal state. Her current identity was at the stack, along with the life she strived so hard to build.
Visit my deathbed if you are so keen to meet Nymphadora again. It was supposed to be a joke. Now it was happening.
He shouldn't have taken the Valium! He should take Adderall to stay awake and wait for her just like the last two full moons, then he would not have missed the calls and wasted 1.5 hours.
No, he had to think straight. All those "should have," "what if," would do Nymphadora no good. He cast out all the regrets and uncertainties and tried to gather the concentration required to perform a long-distance Apparation without Splinch.
Nymphadora trusted his best judgment. She knew he would do what he must when the time came. That's why she made him the emergency contact, and he had no intention of failing her.
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