The office of Director Matthew Arden was not particularly grand. But then again, the man was the Director of St Mungos. His office didn't need fancy trinkets to show his skills and authority. The walls were lined with shelves filled with aged tomes, medical texts, and potion ingredient jars labeled in precise script. A large desk, covered in neatly arranged documents, stood at the center, with Director Matthew seated behind it. Despite his nearly 160 years of age, the man was anything but frail. His sharp eyes which clearly shone with intelligence and assessment, were fixed on Severus as he stood before the gathered senior healers.
The others were seated, their expressions varying from curiosity to measured skepticism. Senior Healer Grant, the one who had witnessed everything firsthand, spoke with the ease of a professional as he briefed them on the events of the Triwizard Tournament's first task.
"—As for the first three champions, their injuries were minor. Superficial burns, bruises, some mild concussions, all within the expected range of treatment."
The healers nodded in understanding. This was nothing unusual. However, they were clearly waiting for the important part. The one which was being rumoured heavily throughout the Magical Hospital.
"But the fourth champion, Miss Delacour…" Grant's tone shifted slightly, more deliberate now. "Her case was severe. Third-degree burns covering nearly ninety percent of her body, extensive nerve damage, and a near complete heart arrest. We had done everything within our knowledge, but nothing was working due to her creature heritage interfering with the magic."
There was a pause, just long enough for the weight of his words to settle.
"And then," he continued, glancing at Severus, "our young intern here did something unprecedented."
The room was silent as Grant described, in precise detail, how Fleur had been revived. He outlined the spells Severus had used, the potion he had administered, the temporary suppression of her Veela magic—all of it. There was no embellishment, no unnecessary praise, just a clear recounting of the facts. Even Severus was impressed as the man was being anything but fanciful in his details.
When he finished, Director Matthew leaned back slightly in his chair, regarding him with a serious expression. The silence stretched for a moment before he finally spoke.
"That was quite the intervention." His voice was deep, steady. "You saved a life, Mr. Blackwood. And in doing so, you may have saved the reputation of this hospital and the British Ministry."
Severus, who had been prepared for scrutiny, hadn't expected those words. He was slightly thrown by the direct acknowledgment. He didn't show it though.
"Thank you, sir," he said finally, inclining his head.
Matthew didn't let the moment linger. "I want you to walk us through it," he said. "Your spellwork. Your potion. Grant mentioned that these were of your own creation. I understand if you have your secrets, but as healers, we have a duty to learn from what works."
Severus knew this was coming. He also knew that whatever he said now needed to be convincing. He couldn't tell them the truth—not about the world he had come from, not about how his knowledge was built on another life's worth of experience. Or that he was simply claiming those spells as his own. But then again, who could sue him for that? He thought amusedly.
So, he did what he always did. He adjusted the details.
He exhaled softly before speaking. "I don't want to sound self-centered or narcissistic," he began, keeping his voice measured, "but I've always had an interest in spell creation, potions, and magic in its entirety."
Some of the healers exchanged glances, but none interrupted.
"I grew up in a Muggle environment," he continued. "For the first eleven years of my life, I didn't even know magic existed. And then, suddenly, my mother decided to teach me."
A faint smile ghosted across his lips, the kind that wasn't entirely warm but wasn't false either. "To say I was fascinated would be an understatement. It was… new. A world I had never imagined, opening up right in front of me."
He let that thought linger before continuing.
"Perhaps that passion for something entirely new was what led me down this path. I didn't just want to learn what existed—I wanted to understand it. To push its boundaries."
He met Matthew's gaze directly. "That curiosity led to experiments. Some were failures. Many were failures. But some worked. Over the years, I developed various potions, invented spells—partly out of necessity, partly out of pure interest."
A healer sitting to the right of Grant, Healer Crowther, frowned slightly. "At your age?"
Severus tilted his head slightly. "You think it unlikely?"
"It's not that," Crowther spoke up, choosing his words carefully. "It's just that… well, spell creation and potion development aren't things people simply stumble into. They require years of study, deep theoretical knowledge, and rigorous testing."
Severus nodded. "And that's exactly what I did. Studied. Tested. Repeated the process until I got results. I guess, I had some luck, concerning the number of failed experiments and setbacks."
Crowther still looked skeptical, but before he could argue further, another healer, an older woman with iron-gray hair, spoke up. "You said you invented spells. Can you explain the one you used on the Delacour girl? The one that restarted her heart?"
Severus considered his words carefully. "It works on the principle of magical stimulation. The heart is a muscle, and like any muscle, it can be forced into movement through external means. The spell triggers a contraction—artificial at first—but with the right conditions, it can reestablish a natural rhythm. Though, a natural death could be reversed with it. However, a magical one like that due to the Killing curse, won't trigger as the magic won't allow that. Miss Delacour's case was unique in that sense. Since, she suffered, third degree burns, the shock, pain and injuries, killed her temporarily. Since no magic was involved, it could be considered natural stoppage, which could be acted upon by my spell."
"And the potion?" another asked.
"That was necessary," Severus said smoothly. "Restarting the heart isn't enough. The brain suffers the most in situations like this. Without proper oxygen flow, even revival can lead to catastrophic damage. The potion works by dilating the arteries, increasing circulation, and jumpstarting neural pathways to prevent or mitigate brain damage. The potion's main purpose is to simply stimulate the nerve pathways like normal."
A few of the healers looked thoughtful now. Others still seemed uncertain.
One of them, a tall wizard with dark eyes, leaned forward slightly. "I have to ask… how did you achieve all of this? At seventeen?"
Severus let out a quiet breath. He could have come up with some elaborate explanation, but in the end, the truth—at least, a version of it—was simpler.
"I don't think I can explain it in a way that would make sense," he admitted. "It wasn't a single breakthrough or a sudden stroke of genius. It was… a journey. A passion that kept growing. One thing led to another, and before I realized it, I was simply doing what felt natural."
That answer seemed to settle something in the room.
There was another pause before Matthew finally nodded. "Very well." He glanced at the other healers, then back at Severus. "Regardless of how you came by your knowledge, what matters is that it worked."
There was an air of finality in his tone.
Severus inclined his head again. "Thank you, sir."
Director Matthew Arden had not dismissed him yet. Severus could see the way the older man's gaze lingered, calculating and thoughtful. The other healers had started murmuring among themselves, clearly still digesting everything that had just been said. Some looked intrigued, others skeptical, and a few seemed downright wary. Severus had expected as much.
Matthew finally leaned forward, lacing his fingers together on the desk. "Before you are dismissed, there's one more thing I need to mention."
Severus stilled. What was it now?
"The Daily Prophet has already caught wind of what happened at the tournament," Matthew said. "It's likely that they'll want to interview you."
Severus barely held back a grimace. The last thing he wanted was to be the subject of a media circus. He had avoided public attention as much as possible thus far, preferring to work in the shadows, but it seemed fate had other plans. He knew, his actions would make buzz. He didn't want that. But then again, there was always a way to make it work even then. Afterall, he was a master at playing with the cards, he got.
Matthew seemed to read his thoughts because his next words were firm. "We have strict policies regarding healer-patient confidentiality. I trust I don't need to remind you that speaking about Miss Delacour's case in any detail—especially regarding her injuries—without consent would be a serious breach."
Severus nodded immediately. "Of course. I have no intention of discussing any patient's condition publicly."
Matthew studied him for a moment before nodding in approval. "Good. You'll find that the press can be relentless, especially when it comes to stories like these. Keep your answers measured, and don't let them bait you into saying more than necessary."
Severus inclined his head. "Understood."
Matthew seemed satisfied with that, but before he could dismiss him, a thought struck Severus instantly. He hesitated for only a moment before deciding it was worth saying.
"If you wish," Severus began carefully, "I can share the spells and potion I used in Miss Delacour's case."
The reaction was immediate.
The murmuring among the healers grew louder, their conversations overlapping in surprise. Even Matthew, who had remained composed throughout their discussion, raised a brow.
Severus met his gaze evenly.
"The heart-restarter spell," he continued, "the potion that prevents neural damage, and the suppression spell that temporarily dampens innate magic. If they are made widely available, they could save countless lives—particularly the suppression spell. It could help with more than just Veela magic. Any healer dealing with magically resistant patients, be they part-goblin, part-giant, or even werewolves, would benefit from it."
The murmurs turned into full-fledged discussion now. Some of the senior healers looked at him as if he had grown another head. Others seemed suspicious, as if they were waiting for the catch.
Matthew, however, remained silent, his piercing gaze locked on Severus.
Finally, he spoke. "You're offering this freely?"
Severus nodded once. "I am."
Matthew leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. "Do you realize what you're saying?"
Severus tilted his head slightly but said nothing.
Matthew's gaze sharpened. "You might not know, due to your muggle background. Spells like these—potions like these—aren't usually shared so openly. In most cases, they remain within families, passed down through generations. Even renowned spell creators rarely give away their work without compensation."
Severus kept his face impassive. "I am aware."
Matthew's expression did change. He looked surprised and shocked now. "Yet you're willing to hand over what could be considered your family's magic."
"Not my family's magic," Severus corrected evenly. "My magic. My family is dead. I am all that remains. Should anything happen to me, I want my knowledge to help people, even if I no longer remain."
Matthew's lips quirked slightly at that. "And you have no desire to keep these to yourself? To maintain an advantage?"
Severus shook his head. "No. I don't particularly like that sort of thinking."
That caused another ripple of quiet murmuring among the healers. Family magic, exclusive knowledge—these were things that granted status and power in the wizarding world. It was not uncommon for old families to hoard their magical discoveries, using them as leverage. That Severus, at seventeen, was willingly offering up his own creations was… unexpected.
Matthew tapped his fingers against his desk, considering him once more. "And why, exactly, do you feel that way?"
Severus met his gaze directly. "Because something that can save lives shouldn't be kept secret for the sake of selfishness."
There was a brief silence.
"I could keep these spells to myself," Severus continued, voice steady. "Use them sparingly. Let them die with me. But how many lives would be lost in the meantime? How many people could be saved if the knowledge was shared?"
He let his words settle before adding, "If these spells and this potion can do more good in the hands of others, then that is where they belong."
The silence in the room was thick. Some of the healers looked thoughtful, others still seemed surprised, but the skepticism was beginning to fade.
Matthew, after a long moment, gave a slow nod. "That," he said, "is a rare perspective."
Severus said nothing. He didn't need their admiration. He had simply stated what he believed. Hoarding knowledge was good, but something which could do more good in public, shouldn't be hoarded or kept secret in his opinion.
Matthew tapped his fingers against the desk one last time before finally straightening. "I appreciate the gesture, Mr. Blackwood. And I won't deny that these spells and this potion could be revolutionary. The suppression spell alone…" He shook his head slightly, as if already considering the implications. "It could change the way we approach healing for magical beings entirely."
Some of the healers nodded in agreement. The applications for such a spell were vast.
Matthew exhaled and nodded. "Very well. We will discuss the best way to document and integrate your work into our medical practices. You will, of course, receive full credit for your contributions."
Severus inclined his head. "That is acceptable."
Matthew's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before he finally leaned back. "You are full of surprises, Mr. Blackwood. However, for now, you are dismissed."
Severus said nothing. He simply gave a short nod before stepping back, allowing the murmuring of the healers to resume.
As he turned toward the door, he could feel the weight of their eyes on him. Some still trying to make sense of him, others regarding him with something resembling respect.
He had done what he set out to do. The knowledge would be shared. Lives would be saved. That was what mattered.
As for the rest? Let them wonder.