Echoes of the Healer’s Path

The following morning, Quinn found himself seated on a sturdy wooden stool in the Hospital Wing, a space that typically buzzed with the energy of healing and recovery but now felt eerily quiet. The air was cool, and the faint scent of antiseptic mingled with the sweetness of morning dew that wafted in through the tall, arched windows. Sunlight streamed in, casting a golden glow on the polished floor, illuminating the various medical supplies meticulously arranged on shelves and the enchanted portraits that adorned the walls. Each portrait depicted former healers, their eyes following Quinn with an almost disapproving gaze as he waited for Madam Pomfrey to begin his test. The atmosphere was thick with an air of formality; he could sense that this was not merely an evaluation of his magical skills but a profound judgment of his character and readiness for the responsibilities that lay ahead.

Madam Pomfrey stood before him, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her expression a blend of sternness and expectation. "Healing is about more than just waving a wand and saying an incantation," she said, her voice steady and authoritative. "It requires precision, patience, and above all, responsibility. You will be tested on basic fieldwork today. Do well, and we'll see if you're ready for more." Her words hung in the air like a warning bell, echoing in the corridors of Quinn's mind as he nodded, suppressing the nervous energy bubbling inside him. This was his moment, a chance to prove himself worthy of the healer's mantle he so desperately desired.

Pomfrey flicked her wand with a practiced ease, and with a soft whoosh, a series of enchanted dummies materialized around the room. Each dummy bore a different simulated injury, meticulously crafted to behave as though they were real wounds. Some of the injuries were simple—a few scrapes and bruises that would be manageable even for a novice healer—while others were more complex, including minor fractures and burns that could easily overwhelm an inexperienced practitioner. The sight of the dummies sent a thrill of anxiety through Quinn, but he steeled himself, reminding himself of all the hours he had spent poring over medical texts and practicing spells in secret.

"Begin," Pomfrey commanded, her tone brooking no argument.

Quinn approached the first dummy, which had a deep gash running along its forearm. The wound looked realistic, the enchanted blood glistening in the light as though it were fresh. Standard procedure dictated the use of the Episkey spell for minor cuts, but this wound was too severe for that alone. He took a deep breath, centering himself as he recalled the techniques he had studied. With careful deliberation, he cast Tergeo first, siphoning away the conjured blood, the spell working seamlessly as if the blood were nothing more than water. He assessed the depth of the gash, his heart racing as he confirmed that no deeper damage had been done. Satisfied, he murmured the incantation for Vulnera Sanentur, tracing his wand along the edges of the wound with precision. A warm glow enveloped the gash, and he watched as the skin began to knit together, leaving only a faint mark where the injury had been.

Pomfrey hummed thoughtfully, making a note on a clipboard that seemed to materialize from thin air. "Acceptable," she said, though her eyes betrayed the fact that she was watching his every move with scrutiny, as if she were a hawk sizing up its prey. Quinn felt a surge of relief wash over him, but he knew better than to let his guard down. The test had only just begun.

The second dummy had suffered a burn, the charred skin looking particularly gruesome against the otherwise pristine backdrop of the Hospital Wing. Quinn hesitated only briefly, recalling the lessons he had learned from older, less commonly used medical texts. He remembered how magical burns could be tricky, often requiring a different approach than standard healing spells. Instead of immediately casting Episkey, which could cause further irritation in cases of magical burns, he conjured a thin layer of Glacialis Unguentum—a numbing cooling gel derived from a modified Freezing Charm. The gel shimmered as it spread over the burn, its cooling properties soothing the simulated pain. He then followed it up with Episkey, ensuring a smooth regeneration of the skin without risk of magical scarring.

"An unconventional choice," Pomfrey remarked, her eyebrow arched in mild surprise.

"It prevents lingering magical damage," Quinn explained, his voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in his stomach. "Burns, especially magical ones, can be tricky if closed too quickly." He felt a sense of pride in his knowledge, knowing that he had gone beyond the basics to offer a more thoughtful solution.

Pomfrey gave a small nod, though she made another note on her clipboard without further comment. Quinn could sense that her approval was guarded, and he steeled himself for the next challenge.

The test continued, each dummy presenting a new obstacle to overcome. Quinn moved on to splint a fractured wrist, using the spell Ferula to create a sturdy support. He focused on weaving a more complex Ossio Menda spell to reinforce the bone, visualizing the structure of the wrist in his mind as he worked. The magic flowed through him, and he could feel the energy of the spell as it reinforced the fractured bone, knitting it back together with a satisfying crackle of power.

He treated a sprained ankle next, combining Brackium Emendo with a stabilizing charm to prevent shock. The ankle appeared to throb with pain, and Quinn felt a pang of empathy for the imaginary patient. He poured his focus into the spell, ensuring the joint was properly aligned and supported as he completed the healing process.

As he moved to the last case, he encountered the trickiest challenge yet—an internal bruising simulation, something that couldn't be seen with the naked eye. Quinn frowned, considering his options carefully. He knew that internal injuries often required a delicate touch and a keen sense of intuition. After a moment of contemplation, he chose to use Delineo Corpus, a diagnostic spell that traced faint, glowing lines along the affected area. As the spell illuminated the contours of the dummy's body, he confirmed the bruising pattern, a dark shadow revealing itself beneath the surface.

Once he had a clear understanding of the internal damage, he applied a modified Curatio Interna, a lesser-known but highly effective spell for treating internal injuries. The magic surged through his wand, and he felt a sense of satisfaction as he completed the procedure, knowing that he had navigated through the complexities of healing with care and skill.

As he finished, he turned to Pomfrey, waiting for her verdict, his heart pounding in his chest. The silence stretched for a long moment, and he could feel the weight of her gaze on him, assessing every detail of his performance. Finally, she exhaled, breaking the tension that had built in the room.

"You passed," she announced, and a wave of relief washed over Quinn, allowing him to release the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He allowed himself a small smile, but before he could celebrate, she added, "However, you will not be using half of those spells in actual practice here."

Quinn blinked, confusion washing over him. "But—"

Pomfrey held up a hand, her expression firm. "You are not a fully trained healer yet. There are reasons we use established spells—because they have been tested, refined, and deemed safe for consistent application. What you did worked, but healing is not about showing off. It's about reliability." Her words struck him like a cold splash of water, and he bit his tongue to keep from arguing. He understood her point, but he also knew that orthodox methods had their limitations. Still, he wasn't about to risk losing this opportunity by pushing back now.

Pomfrey studied him, her gaze penetrating as if she were peering into his very soul. After what felt like an eternity, she nodded, her expression softening just a fraction. "You will be assisting me during the Tournament. Minor injuries only. Anything beyond that, you call for me. Understood?"

Quinn met her gaze, determination flooding through him. "Understood."

She sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of her experience and the burdens of her role. "Then welcome to the Hospital Wing, Moriarty. Don't make me regret it."

Quinn smiled, a thrill of excitement running through him. This was only the beginning. He could already envision the challenges that lay ahead, the opportunity to learn and grow under the watchful eye of Madam Pomfrey. The Hospital Wing was a sanctuary of healing, a place where he could hone his skills and make a difference in the lives of others. He felt a sense of belonging wash over him, a feeling that he was finally on the right path.

As he glanced around the room, taking in the various supplies and the dummies that had served as his test subjects, he felt a surge of gratitude for the chance he had been given. The journey ahead would not be easy, but he was ready to embrace every moment, every lesson, and every challenge that came his way. This was not just a test of his magical abilities; it was a test of his character, his resolve, and his commitment to the art of healing. And as he stood there, the golden light of the morning wrapping around him like a warm embrace, Quinn knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.