Chapter Text
...
The ringing of a bell at the front of his shop had Harrison looking up. A book on Greek Runes was in front of him. He was wearing a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and black slack. The person who entered looked entirely out of place in his expensive robes to be in Knockturn Alley.
"Draco, what brings you by today?" He greeted politely.
"Hello, Harrison," Draco greeted in return, "How are you doing?"
Draco was one of the first people to enter his shop when Harrison returned to England. He was looking for a rare book on Defense. Ever since, he was a frequent visitor. They'd even had a few drinks together at the Fangs and Claws pub. Something that the Malfoy Heir had been weary of but had agreed to. The pub was welcoming to everyone as long as they didn't try to pick a fight inside.
"Doing well. Just reading a new book I got in. You're in luck, there is a new defense journal from Russia," Harrison said, getting to his feet and walking to the shelf to grab the journal in question, "Here. It's on the house."
"You don't have to do that," Draco told him, already pulling his bag out.
He handed over four galleons. Way more than the journal was worth. The extra however would go to his medical supplies. When asked, he'd answer that the prices were on a sliding scale. Those that could afford to pay, paid more. For those that couldn't afford, he was happy to take items in trade. Those who came to them either couldn't afford regular healers or wouldn't be treated by them for whatever reason.
He gave his friend an indulgent smile as he put away the money. He'd use the extra to purchase ingredients that weren't readily available. There was a man in France that was working on growing the necessary herbs. Until they were ready though, the best place to get the rarer ones was the United States. Being unknown as he was, Harrison could move across the countries without a second glance.
"Did you hear?" Draco said suddenly, setting his book down on the desk and taking a seat, "They're going to have a dueling competition at the end of the summer."
"That's right," Harrison agreed, returning to his chair, "You thinking of competing?"
"Father expects me to enter," Draco admitted, "I'm not very good at dueling, though."
"Focus on footwork and keep your wand movements tight," Harry said with a yawn, "If it's by relative age, you'll do better by focusing on them rather than large numbers of spells."
He turned the page of his book. Most of the knowledge in the boom were something he already learned. He'd hoped there would be at least a few new sequences. So far, nothing.
"Too bad you can't duel," Draco commented idly, "Wouldn't mind having a practice partner."
"I'm sure you can find someone to help," Harrison told him, "What about Nott?"
"Hates dueling," admitted Draco, "He wants to be a healer..."
"He doesn't have the right Talents for it," Harrison told him, turning another page, "If he wants to help healers he should do potions. He's good at them from what I understand."
"Yeah," agreed Draco, "Thanks, Harrison."
Harrison waived the thanks off. It was a simple matter of telling his friend his thoughts. If his friend wanted advice, he'd ask outright. Until then, Harrison kept his thoughts to himself. That was until his door slammed open, revealing a battered up young man. His robes were torn, his face bloodied, and his arm was bent at the wrong angle. A woman was at his side, half supporting him.
"Please!" She called to him, "Help him!"
Harrison was moving before she could finish her plea. He snapped to Draco, "Open the back room door. Start lighting candles."
Harrison laid his hand on the rune sequence by the door. It activated the disruption barrier that would keep outsiders from sensing anything that happened inside the shop. The door closed behind him. Then he was at the wizard's side. His arm was broken. It would need to be set. There was an obvious concussion. That could wait until after the bones were healed.
"I'll need to set the bones," Harrison warned, "It's not pleasant. Do you have something to bite on?"
"Just fix me," the boy demanded, pressing his lips together, and bracing his forehead against the bed.
"Draco, hold him down," Harrison ordered, taking hold of the boys' arm. With a practiced movement, the bone was pulled straight.
The boy howled in pain. Tears streamed from his eyes. Skelegrow normally would be the best option but not if he had to give Amy other potions. It reacted badly with anything other than a weak sleeping potion. He needed to be certain of any other major issues before he could give any potions.
Harrison slowed his breathing. He pressed a hand to the other's sternum drawing upon his Talent for Communion. He could sense the man's inner fire, his Vitalle. Focusing on his lungs, he sensed a broken rib that had pierced one. The other had a punctured ear drum and several bruised organs. Skelegrow would only worsen his condition if the broken rib wasn't fixed first.
This was going to hurt.
"I need your permission to draw runes in both of our blood," Harrison told them, his voice soft but firm, "They will not have an effect on either of us outside of the healing. Do I have your permission?"
"Do what you must," the girl said, her voice trembling, "I... we don't have much money..."
"Don't worry about payment," Harrison said, "I never ask for any more that what you can afford."
The boy, his face as white as a sheet gave a nod. Harrison cut open their palms and began the rune sequence to concentrate his Empathy. Empathic magic at the strongest levels could take the pain of others and force the body into healing faster. It was a part of True Healing magic. The magic had been lost to the ages and was now a myth. Only a handful of practitioners existed. All were healers that treated the outcasts of society. Just like him.
Finishing the circle, he pressed his bleeding palm to the circle. He drew upon the Vitalle of the boy in front of him and mixed it with the Vitalle of the World. His pathways burned as he took on the boy's pain from the Healing. Sweat broke out across his brow. The broken rib fused back together. The puncture in the lung healed. Bruising on the organs faded. He stopped short of healing the arm in case he had someone else come in that needed healing.
"Draco get a Sleeping Potion and a Skelegrow," Harrison ordered, his voice tight, "I'm going to splint the arm so it'll heal correctly."
"Right away, Harrison," Draco nodded before disappearing through the door.
Harrison was breathing heavily. A deep ache had settled in his ribs. That was the downside of Low Magick. It always came at a cost to the user. Still, there was little else that would work to Heal such severe injuries properly. Even the most basic of healing took a lot out of the user.
"You don't look good," the girl said, her tone worried, "Is everything alright?"
"Fine," grunted Harrison, "Just the price of my Talent."
Draco returned with the two potions and they helped the boy sit up to drink them. While the injury was healed, he would be sore for at least a week. As long as he didn't take any heavy blows to the ribs in the next few days he'd be fine.
Harrison lowered the barrier a moment later.