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“He’s been severely injured in a confrontation with Death Eaters. He’s currently in St Mungo’s.”

The words rang in your ears as you six made your way to Dumbledore’s office. It was a strange feeling you had; you weren’t exactly sad, nor worried. You didn’t know what you felt. You were just grateful your friends were there.

When you arrived at professor Dumbledore’s office, he was already there.

“Miss (l/n)” he greeted you, “feel free to use my fireplace, you can floo to the hospital.”

“Sorry professor, I- I’ve never used floo powder before. I- I don’t know-“

“I’ll show you” Sirius said. “Can I go with her?” he asked.

“Of course” professor Dumbledore said without hesitation.

“C’mon (y/n)” he said, leading you towards the fireplace - your hand had still been clasped in his. Letting go of Remus, you followed him. “Okay, so you take a bit of this powder, and then you step into the fireplace, say where you want to go – very clearly, you don’t want to end up somewhere else – and you throw down the power.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. Here, I’ll show you.” He did exactly as he had explained, and before you it he was engulfed in green flames and disappeared.

“Your turn” James said behind you with a hand on your shoulder. “Good luck.”

You stepped into the fireplace, got some powder from the jar Remus was handing you, said “Saint Mungo’s Hospital” and threw down the powder. Next, you saw a flash of green, and before you knew it you stumbled out of the fireplace, straight into Sirius.

“Easy there” he said, steadying you. “You okay?”

“Yeah” you nodded absentmindedly, looking around the room.

“(Y/n)” he said, drawing your attention back to him. “Are. You. Okay?”

“I’m fine” you huffed. “Really, I just want to see him.”

“I’ll go ask where we can find him” he said, and went to the reception. You didn’t follow him, instead you looked around a bit, and it looked exactly like a hospital should, except for one thing: the security. Everyone who wanted to go further inside was searched thoroughly before being allowed to continue. You were watching a wizard searching an older man when Sirius reappeared next to you.

“We have to be on the fourth floor” he said, leading you towards the security wizards.

“Names?” a witch asked, looking you both up and down before turning to her list.

“(Y/n) Ollivander (l/n) and Sirius Black” you introduced yourselves.

At hearing his last name she looked back to Sirius. “And what is the reason of your visit?”

“My brother – Gallagher Ollivander – was injured in- in a fight” you said, and suddenly you broke down in tears. Sirius swung his arm around you immediately as your sobs filled the entrance hall, the severity of the situation dawning on you in one blow. You cried into Sirius’ shoulder, and barely registered the woman asking whether you had anything to declare and him saying that you didn’t. When he lead you to the stairs, he muttered comfort in your hair.

“He’s okay, (y/n). He’s alive, that’s what matters most. I’ll be right here for you. It’ll be okay…”

He never let go of you while you ascended the stairs, even after you’d stopped crying and calmed down a bit.

When you arrived on the fourth floor however, you felt like breaking down again as you immediately spotted your father in tears sitting next to a bed. The bed itself was behind a curtain, so you didn’t see Gallagher yet.

“Dad” you choked out, making him look up and hurry over to you. Sirius let you go so that you could hug him, and you didn’t let go for a long time.

“How is he?” you asked, once he let go.

“Alive. He’ll be okay, in time…” he sighed. The three of you approached the bed.

He was lying there, chest covered in bloody bandages and scratches all over his face. He was unconscious. “Is he in pain?”

“The healers have assured me that he isn’t” he sighed, worry and fatigue apparent in his voice. “However, the curse makes that his wounds keep opening. They’re too busy to keep on healing him every five minutes, so we just have to wait until the curse wears off.”

“I’ll do it” you said without hesitation and drew out your wand.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you” a grim voice said from behind you. Surprised, you turned around. A man stood there in Auror robes, he was tall and had a few scars covering his face and, quite frankly, was a bit scary. “Healing spells are tricky, get something wrong-“

“She won’t” Sirius interrupted him. “I’ve seen her do it several times. She’s a natural.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you” he muttered and sat down next to the bed.

You went to stand next to Gallagher, moved the sheets down a bit more, and placed your wand. “Vulnera Sanentur. Tergeo” you spoke, making the blood disappear.

“Told you” Sirius muttered.

“Who are you anyway?” you asked the man.

“Alastor Moody, co-worker of your brother.” You vaguely remembered James calling him a legend once.

“What happened to him?”

“(Y/n)-“ your father started to protest, but you cut him off.

“I want to know” you stated, leaving no room for argument. You turned back back at Moody with an expecting look on your face.

After a short silence in which he undoubtedly pondered whether he should tell you or not, he said: “Entrails Expelling Curse, nasty business. A Death Eater got him, Avery I think his name was. Good friend of You-Know-Who, very dangerous.”

“There’s an Avery at our school” you muttered absentmindedly, looking at your brother.

Sirius’ hand landed on your shoulder. “(Y/n), don’t go there. Avery didn’t do this, his father or uncle or something did. Not him.”

You nodded. He was right, it hadn’t been the Avery you knew. And yet, you couldn’t help the sudden hate toward the boy flaring up in your chest. Whatever anyone said, Avery was a pureblood fanatic.

And you hated him.

Sirius had left that same day, leaving you with your family. For two weeks you had spent all your time at Gallagher’s bedside, healing him every time it was needed, which was indeed every five minutes. You barely slept, ate very little, and when you weren’t healing him you were trying to work for school. Remus brought you your stuff every day, telling you about what you had missed. You barely understood what he was saying, as the matter didn’t make sense anymore. You had missed too many lessons and were really getting behind. Your father had advised you to go back to school, but you had refused. All that didn’t matter to you, as your brother needed you most. Remaining with him was your number one priority.

That was, until after almost two weeks, Alastor Moody showed up.

“Your dad told me you didn’t want to go back to school” he said, not even bothering saying hello.

“Gallagher needs me most” you responded.

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Yes he does.”

“You want to protect him?”

“Of course I do” you snapped, turning around, facing him.

“He’s in good hands here. The nurses told me he only needs healing every hour or so, and that’s a good thing. You’ve kept him healthy this long, let them take it from here.”

“Then why hasn’t he woken up yet?” you hissed.

“Because these curses take time” he said, irritation evident in his voice. “Time, not constant healing or someone sitting next to his bed. Right now, all you can do is wait.”

“That’s not all I can do-“

“You want to help him? Then go study. Go back to school” he snapped. “You’re not doing any good sulking and wasting your time here. Learn. Get better. Study, so that one day you’ll be able to help him properly, and not just by cleaning his bondages every hour.”

“You’re telling me to become an Auror?” you asked bewildered.

“I was more aiming for Healer, since you’re obviously talented at the subject.”

“No. I’m good at Defence Against the Dark Arts. I’m very good.”

“Then prove it” he hissed, getting to your height end staring you dead in the eyes. “Study. Go back to school, and prove that you’re good enough to become an Auror. Because right now, all I see is a little girl sulking at her brother’s bedside.”

“Fine” you hissed, and got up. “Fine, I’ll prove it to you. I can and I will do this.”

He chuckled darkly. “If I had a Sickle for every time I’ve heard that…”

You narrowed your eyes at him, and whipped out your wand. Calming your nerves, you let you emotions drift back a year, to that evening at the lake. “Expecto Patronum” you said, and before he could blink a big, white dog jumped him, making him fall over.

The man laughed – quite maniacally actually – and mumbled something along the likes of “Imagine that, a bloody thirteen year old.”

A grin spread on your lips. You gave your brother a quick kiss on his forehead and left the room. Your Patronus vanished, leaving a group of startled witches and wizards looking at your retreating back.

It was only many years later, when you looked back at that conversation, you realised just exactly how defining that moment had been for the rest of your life.