It began as whispers only in headlines of smaller news outlets within the wizarding world:

• "Healers or Hazards? Creatures in the Clinic Stir Controversy”
• "Creature Compassion or Risky Business? Magical Community Divided over Hospital Access"
• "Wizarding Wards for Wizards: Growing Debate Over Medical Access for Non-Humans"
• " 'Pure Practice' Gains Political Backing in Wizengamot Circles"

and it escalated quickly the summer of 2025:

• "Protests Erupt Outside Magical Health Department After Werewolf Child Denied Treatment"
• "Department of Magical Law Enforcement Launches 'Healing Purity Review Board'"
• "Violence at St. Mungo's: Purist Protest Turns Hostile"

Since the beginning of summer, anti-creature sentiment had been rising across the wizarding world in a movement that was known as Magia Vera which meant True Magic in Latin. The group demanded that all non-humans and hybrids be barred from medical practice and even from receiving medical treatment.

Simon was handed a pamphlet upon entering St. Mungo's for his internship one morning. "MAGIA VERA - WHY WE STAND FIRM" it began. He read on: Non-humans - werewolves, goblins, centaurs, half-breeds, and other magical aberrations - are demanding gacess to our healing halls. Some seek and do practice within them. Others demand treatment as if it is owed to them, as if their blood entitles them to the blessings our ancestors fought to refine. This is not progress. This is desecration. We are not cruel; we are cautious. We are not hateful; we are honest.

He felt his stomach drop just reading it and knowing that the people outside felt this way. Yes, not just one random wizard who handed him the pamphlet but a small grouping of them.

And as the summer progressed, the group gained more attention. Large-scale protests were now a daily spectacle outside St. Mungos, complete with press coverage. Signs read "purge the practice," "protect patients, not predators, "we have the right to know who's treating us," "all blood is not equal," "magic is ours," "what if they snap?" "wands wielded by wizards, not beasts," "keep monsters out of medicine," "would you trust a vampire with your life?" "no fangs in healing wards," "No fangs in healing wards," and "they need blood. we need safety" to name a few.

Simon waded through the crowd and the wave of signs when he came in to start his internship and waded through the crowd and the wave of signs when he came out as they shouted things like "REGULATE, INVESTIGATE, ELIMINATE!" and "Say it loud, say it clear - creatures don't belong in here" or "keep them out, keep us safe!" He felt anxious and did his best to blend in, hoping that he could avoid being singled out or questioned.

He might not have continued his internship if it weren't for Ashby Ketteridge, a Senior Healer who specialized in rare magical infections, hematological hexes, and bloodbourne curses - who happened to also be half vampire.

"You alright, son?" Ashby would ask him now and again and Simon would just nod. Often when the two were in close proximity, they were with a patient and there was no time to talk of the movement. Simon felt insecure and did what he could to keep his heightened senses at bay and not to show his aversion to sunlight. By contrast, he couldn't help but see that Healer Ketteridgr remained calm and collected.

One late afternoon, Healer Ketteridge requested that Simon help him catch up with some of his case reviews and documentation. Simon knocked on the door and waited for a response but was instead met with a door that opened all by itself. He walked slowly inside and was met with a small welcoming smile. "What can I help you with today, Sir?" Simon asked but the healer motioned for him to sit at the chair opposite to his desk.

Simon did so.

"These crowds.....they've been louder than usual, haven't they? I know it's not easy working under the weight of all that noise, especially when it feels they're shouting at us. I just wanted to check in. How are you holding up, really?"

Simon gave it a bit of thought. That morning had been particularly difficult, as he had brushed face to face with Septimus Greeley the protest leader. "Honestly? It's - a bit much at times. During those times, I keep telling myself it's just noise but when they start naming us creatures or abominations - it's hard to tune it out." Simon shrugged, "but I'm still here. I still want to be here. I've faced some discrimination before. I've also received acceptance. You seem held on high regard here at the hospital. I love that for you.....do you think others, like me, can get to that point, too? Do you see progress happening or are they going to change things - cause a recession?"

The healer eased back on his chair before pushing it closer to the desk, folding his hands on the top and gave Simon his full attention. "Your future isn't a door that someone else gets to close, son. I won't lie to you, there's resistance. There are people who fear change because they've confused privilege with tradition."

"I was told I'd never be accepted. I had a wizard mother and a vampire father. It was a union that scandalized both communities. I spent most of my early life in isolation, away from wizarding society where my mother protected me fiercly. I didn't even exhibit early signs of magical abilities for some time. Despite this, I went to Hogwarts, joined the Ravenclaw house and distingused myself. I excelled in Potions, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts; all subjects that required meticulous focus and offered a measure of personal control. After Hogwarts, I trained in healing and secured an apprenticeship here at St. Mungo's. My acceptance was met with quiet resistance and whispered doubts and many of my colleagues were wary of him. They thought that having a half vampire around patients, especially those with open wounds or undergoing blood magic treatments was not only irresponsible but outright dangerous."

"But I ignored them and their gossip and focused on my work. After some time, my knowledge of blood magic, my sensitivity to magical imbalances in the body, and my calm demeanor under pressure began to earn me respect. I could diagnose conditions that confused others, pick up signs of internal hexing others seemed to overlook, and had a knck for magical potions and infections. Some of the very qualities that made some fear me became my greatest assets in healing."

"I'm a senior healer now and while some prejudice still lingers in quiet corners of this hospital, I know it is outweighed by admiration. In some circles, I am regarded as a pioneer in magical hematology and trans-species medicine. I think I hold myself to higher standards than most and I expect no sympathy from anyone. I know what I am and I know how the world sees me - but most importantly, I save lives and make lives better."

"You, son, have the instincts of a predator and the heart of a healer. That's a rare sort of balance. You'll do more good than most can imagine - because you understand what it means to hold power and choose compassion."

Something felt different that morning as Simon got closer to St. Mungos and began moving through the sea of protestors like usual. It wasn't particularly any different than any other day, but it was like when you could feel a storm approaching but the dark rain clouds had yet to roll in - something in the wind, perhaps.

As he got closer to the door the sea got thicker. "He's not sick, he's a threat!" he heard one person shout. "St. Mungo's - protect your halls!" Now that second one sounded familiar enough as this protest had been outside the wizarding hospital for most of the summer but what did they mean by he's not sick, he's a threat? Who were they talking about?

"One boy, one bite - one MASSACRE!" another shouted and Simon could now see that the protestors were all huddled up in one area facing the steps to the main entrance. There was wizarding police keeping them back and what looked like a family, a mother, a father, and a boy huddled behind them. The mother was cradling her son who looked to be around five to seven and he looked sickly.

"He's just a boy - our boy!" the father shouted back at them, over the police. The mother was stroking the child's face and gently rocking him back and forth as she cradled him close. "Please. He's scared and he's in pain. Please open the doors."

Open the doors? Was St. Mungo's not letting them in? Were they not admitting him?

Simon slowly walked up the stairs to the entrance where he was met by several guards. "St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries is under a Level Seven Warding Protocol. Access denied."

Level Seven what?

"I'm an intern," Simon said as he opened the top of his enchanted satchel to get his badge that prooved this, "I've been working in general clinicals and sometimes helping with emergencies. I'm under Senior Healer Ashby Ketteridge," he said and found the badge but the guard in the middle put out his hand, directing Simon to put it away and didn't so much as look at it. "No one in, no one out."

"Sir, I ...." he tried one more time but was cut off.

"No staff, no patients. Get off the front step. Now."

Simon looked around feeling his stomach drop. Everything about this just didn't seem right. He took a step down and took in the scene around him, the chaos around him.

His thought was to try another door. Surely it too might be secured but perhaps he could get an idea on what was going on. The next door around the building was the same as the first, the same number of guards, as was the next, and even more at the next. Simon rounded the corner of the building and walked along it to see the same. He hoped all inside were okay and he hoped whatever it was could be over soon so that htey could begin to admit and treat new patients that needed their care, including that boy on the steps.

A paper airplane floated down toward him and Simon caught it, as he had done many times in class with his classmates. He looked up to see Healer Ketteridge motion to him from a window. Simon quickly opened it to read:

Listen careefully - we're all trapped inside under a Level 7 Warding Protocol. No one can get in or out by normal means. There is fear the protest will grow violent today and we are to remain isolated and protected.

You must get inside unnoticed. The east wing has old service tunnels beneath the Herbology Greenhouses. I've marked the loose grate on the map attached. Use it to slip in.

Also, there is a very sick werwolf boy outside - denied admition due to his condition. He's very weak and needs urgent care. Bring him with you through the same route.

Once inside, find me near the Herbology ward. I'll guide you further from there.

- A Friend

Simon gave a small wave up to the window to acknowledge that he understood his mission and headed back towards the front of the hospital, all the while trying to come up with a plan.

Perhaps he could create a small but loud magical flare or explosion that could go off near another entrance of the hospital. Technically, he wasn't supposed to use magic outside of school but would anyone really be able to tell that he was the one who did it? Did he want to risk that?

In thinking of magic, Simon remembered he had a rather handy item folded up in his satchel and he opened it to find the shining fabric of his invisibility cloak. That was the very sort of thing he needed and he brought it out and cloaked himself in it, disappearing to the world.

"YOU STAND THERE WAVING YOUR SIGNS WHILE MY SON IS DYING OUTSIDE THESE DOORS!" the father was now yelling at the protest leader. "DO YOU SLEEP BETTER KNOWING YOUR PREJUDICE HAS TEETH? HE'S FIVE. HE DIDN'T ASK TO BE BITTEN. HE DIDN'T CHOOSE THIS; BUT YOU? yOU CHOOSE TO STAND BETWEEN HIM AND THE PEOPLE WHO COULD SAVE HIS LIFE. IF HE DIES....." and the mere word seemed to frighten him and soften the man's words and Simon felt the anguish within the father. "....If he dies, you are to blame."

The father drew his wand before the wizarding police could interviene and delivered the brighest red, flaming red, neon red, a red that filled the sky - stunning spell right in the direction of Septimus Greenley. The protest leader was flown, rapidly and forcefully backward against a wall, cracking the stone and causing a bad head injury in the process.

Screams rang out and there was yelling everywhere. Sparks cracked from a wand over here, there, and everywhere. Simon looked to see the mother coming to the father's side and taking his hand, slowly lowering his wand and the protest leader still remained motionless on the ground, blood pooling from his head around him.

Simon knew now that he had to get both the boy and the protest leader inside the building. He cleared his throat and tried to deepen his voice. "BY THE ORDER OF THE DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL LAW ENFORCEMENT, STAND DOWN IMMEDIATELY! THIS PROTEST IS UNLAWFUL!" Protestors and press alike all froze, looking around for arriving law enforcement. There were murmurs and some took off running or creating their own diversions to hide their attendance there and it was just enough time for a dhampir to snatch two unwell bodies and throw one over each shoulder, and began toward the Herbology Greenhouses of St. Mungo's - all concealed under the invisibility cloak.

Getting to the grate of the greenhouse was the easy part but it was getting through the grate that was tricky. It was a narrow, cramped space, with hardly enough room to squeeze through but with two extras with him, he had to contort his body this way and that to get through, hoping not to meet any sharp edges along the way. Visibility was also limited and he was grateful for his heightened dhampir eyesight in this situation, as well as dhampir strength.

As he made his way out, the air grew cooler and he felt he could breathe easier. Relief washed over him that he made it through but there was still work to do. Simon took off the invisibility cloak and looked up to Ashby who seemed surprised to see three before him instead of merely two. "Well done, son," he said to Simon and looked to the werewolf boy who seemed groggy from listessness. "Let's see to them both before this gets any worse."

Simon agreed and Healer Ketteridge took the protest leader from him and he got the boy and they headed to a large storage room. "Stay with them," Ketteridge said as he perched Greenley up against Simon and left, returning not long later wheeling in one of hte enchanted beds that adjusted to patients' needs and softly pulsed healing energy. Once it was in the room, he went to the hallway momentarily and rolled in another. Together, they got the boy in one and the protest leader in the other.

Ketteridge went to the protest leader first while Simon went to ensure that the boy was as comfortable as he could be and let him know that he was getting the help he needed. He watched as his mentor delivered an initial assessment and stabiliaztion of the man. "He's barely breathing, lost a significant amount of blood, and the trauma to his head looks severe. We need to act fast or he won't make it."

With the boy getting some fluids to help with obvious dehydration, both Simon and Healer Ketteridge took to the protest leader. There was a quick vital check before getting to work, staunching the bleeding, calming any lingering effects, and did what they could to reduce swelling and prevent brain damage. Septimus Greenly was bandaged and now placed under monitoring and support. "The bleeding is controlled for now, but his head injury is severe. We need to keep him stable and monitor for any signs of brain swelling or deterioration. This is a critical window - any sudden movement or shock could be fatal." Simon nodded, letting his mentor know he understood.

Now it was time to turn their attention to the boy. "Rapid Pulse, faint skin discoloration, the fluctuation of his eyes erratically, fever - I don't think this is exhaustion or injury."

"You are correct, Simon. I agree, he has been poisoned. Giving him fluids and flushing it out was a good first call," he smiled and Simon smiled back. Clensing charms were used to flush out more toxins and restorative potions were given as they could b found. Now, Simon Kincaid and Healer Ketteridge sat with their two patients, just focusing on continuous monitoring and care.

"Do you think they'll be alright?" Simon said in a soft whisper, trying to keep their little storage room emergency space as calming and peaceful as it could be. His voice had quivered some and he didn't like that, it showed he wasn't calm and collected in this moment but he was just so worried about both of their patients and all the others at the protest outside, about all the patients inside who needed a healer's help but there was a lack of staff, and all that needed help but couldn't get acess.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up at the red-haired dhampir. "Your quick thinking got them here alive. Without you we wouldn't have had the chance to try. We've given them a solid foundation for recovering and now we must remain vigilant." Simon nodded.

"If I didn't know better, I'd be prepping a bed for you, too," the mentor said and Simon tilted his head a moment, just about to ask what he meant but then realized it quickly. He was covered in blood.

"I'll be looking forward to when they lift this Level Seven code and I can show myself within the halls and hit the showers - after getting them to a more stable ward, of course," Simon sighed.

"Of course," Healer Ketteridge said in a calm and caring way, not mockingly, as if he knew Simon was always thinking first of the patients.

Leaving the two under the care of Healer Ketteridge, Simon was able to sneak back out through the grate and notify the mother of the boy that he was in good hands and getting the care he needed inside and within a couple hours, the Level Seven Warding Protocol was called off. Together they carefully transported their patients to the trauma department.

The boy woke up first, happy to see his mother and father at his side.

By the time Septimus Greenly began to come around, it was hours after Simon's internship had been over for the day but he didn't want to leave until he saw what sort of condition he was in. When it came to head injuries like his, vital signs only showed so much and one needed to wait to see what cognitive function was like once awake.

When he did wake, they knew from the groans they heard coming from the bed. "You're awake, how are you feeling?" Healer Ketteridge asked and exchanged a concerned look over to Simon. "My - my heard hurts; what happened?" he tried to sit up but Simon placed his hand out, encouraging him to stop and rest. "You were injured badly. We treated you. You're going to be okay," he said calmly. He was talking and the swelling was going down. Septimus Greenly was physically going to be okay.

"Treated.....? By who?" the protest leader asked. Healer Ketteridge and Simon exchanged glances. "By us. We're here to help." Smooth, Simon thought. No identifiers. "Thank you for saving me. I'm lucky," he said and closed his eyes for another round of rest. Simon glance over to hsi mentor again, relieved.

The next time he opened his eyes, Simon was still there with Healer Ketteridge, assisting the recovery of their two patients. Simon had finished getting some water for the boy that they now knew as Calder Everhart.

"You.... you're not human, are you?" Simon overheard the man ask Healer Ketteridge and instantly his heart began to beat faster. Simon hurried over there, thinking what he could say to make the situation better. "You.... you're both not human," the patient said as he looked from Simon, to the Senior Healer, and back. "No. This has to be a set up. This has to be some sort of ploy to soften public opinion and to mainuplate the media. You're playing a game and I'm the pawn." He seemed bitter.

Simon opened his mouth to say something but Healer Ketteridge encouraged him to keep silent and he did. They continued to do what they would do for any other patient and provide optimal care.

It was later, as they were trying to encourage the man to eat some kind of dinner that he spoke up. "...The care you have shown me, it's real. Your skill and your dedication. I was blinded by fear and anger before. I judged your kind without truly seeing who you all really are. Maybe, maybe it's time to stop fighting what I don't understand."

Simon was surprised to hear the revelation, and also surprised at the next statement.

"Is the boy okay?"

He was. The boy was going to be fine, the protest leader was going to be fine, and the situation was going to get better. There was a sense that things were shifting, if only slightly. Simon couldn't explain it, but he could feel it.

The end!