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The crowd moved inside as Leo then Jasper held the door for them all. The music was bumping and Everett bounced along they stepped inside the barn which was much bigger on the inside, before people started breaking off. “You guys want a drink or...?” Everett looked between Geralina and Jasper, or at least where Jasper should have been. The guy was mysteriously absent and for a split second Everett was concerned that he’d decided to leave but he was easily spotted still holding the door open as more and more people filed in. Ev laughed. “He’s gonna be there a while.” Jasper was notoriously nice, same as Geralina in fact, and Everett wouldn’t have thought much of starting a pool to see how long Jasp stayed holding the door before finally coming into the party and enjoying himself. “Whelp, sucks to be him. How ‘bout that drink, Ger?” Hey, they hadn’t caught up in a politeness battle of their own making, so there was nothing keeping them from enjoying the night straight away.

“Right, well if you should think of something.” Everett knew it was a long shot to get her to talk, and he’d not exactly reacted sympathetically toward her upon her arrival tonight. That was his mistake. He uncorked the final potion and offered it to her. “This will help you sleep.” He waited to ensure she drank the whole thing, then said goodnight and headed to his office. Finishing up the last of his paperwork, he pushed his files aside and scribbled a messy note to Professor Dumbledore, folded it up like a paper airplane, and sent it flying out of the hospital wing. Someone needed to look into this Beatrice Greengrass business.

The second bottle emptied, Everett banished it to the backroom as well. There was only one potion left, but first he would need to apply the healing salve to the hand-shaped bruises around her neck and the ones on her face. Everett waited patiently for the student to finish cleaning herself up, turning his eyes to the floor as he saw the welling of liquid in her eyes. When she was done, he took the washcloth from her and set into the water bowl. Pulling the mirror from her hand, he lifted the water bowl and placed the mirror on the bedside table, then sat the bowl on top. Beatrice didn’t need to look at her injuries again tonight. He banished the whole pile at once. “This might tickle a little,” he warned her, unscrewing the lid of the little jar and revealing a mucus-colored paste. There was a faint smell of cucumbers, added to mask the natural aroma which was none too pleasing. He had purposely given her the pain potion first, because without it the salve would have stung and the girl didn’t need anymore anguish for the evening. He gestured for her to raise her chin, then slathered a generous helping of the paste onto her skin wherever he saw discoloration. “Close your eyes,” he instructed, spreading the salve more carefully so as not to inadvertently blind her.

The girl sat herself on an empty cot and promptly spat blood into the available sick bowl. Everett watched without flinching. In his time as a healer, he had seen some pretty heinous accidents and dealt with plenty of disturbing incidents. People thought because he worked at a school that he was perhaps sheltered from the traumas other healers would experience, but not at Hogwarts. Not during war. This wasn’t the work of Death Eaters, though, and it wasn’t a fall down the stairs. The bruising over her left eye, the hand-shaped markings around her neck; it all pointed to an altercation but there was time later to attempt to flush the truth out of her. She complained of difficulties breathing. He nodded. “Can you lay back? I want to check your ribs.” Pomfrey had mended the girl’s ribs once before and after Beatrice had made her third visit on Everett’s watch, he decided to read up on the girl’s file. It was grim. Gentle hands pressed against the teen’s stomach, leaning forward near the bed. Yep. Just as he had thought; it was broken. Everett righted himself and stuck his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I’ll be right back.”

He stepped away to fetch a bone-mending potion and some pain killers for her. Inside his office, Everett set his quick-quotes quill to work as he pulled open the doors to the elixir cupboard. “Patient is complaining of trouble breathing. Physical examination shows L-7 rib fracture. Visual examination shows bruising around throat, left eye, and stomach. Bleeding in mouth. Possible internal bleeding.” He pulled three bottles from the cupboard and shut the doors. He sighed. “Patient: Beatrice Greengrass. Again.”

Levitating the potions to the table at the side of her bed, Everett also brought her a washcloth and a small bowl of warm water. “Your rib is broken,” he said quietly. “Though I suspect you knew that, being as smart as you are.” Not smart enough to not get into these messes, but perhaps she was attacked unprovoked. A rival witch? Were they fighting over a boy? Had it been a boy? Crowley was going to have to get Dumbledore involved this time. Her parents and Head of House hadn’t managed to stop this nonsense. “Drink this. The whole thing. It’s not a pleasant taste but it should help with the breathing.” It was also going to be a painful next several hours for her, but she would have remembered that. The other two potions, one for pain and one for sleep, would be next. Then a salve for her eye and the markings on her neck. She was due to spend the next several nights in the hospital wing, and maybe he’d manage the hear what actually happened to her.

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