Gabriel had never been in quite a state, and this nurse, who had not done anything more but sit behind the large round desk and do her crosswords, was not helping his state.

"It has been nearly forty-five minutes, how could you possibly not have any more information? What kind of establishment are you running? I need to speak to the Healer-in-Chief, this is not acceptable---"

The nurse put her hand up and stood. Gabriel's mouth shut tightly as he listened to her repeat, once again, that when the healers were done with the spell casting that needed to be done on Rachel and Danielle that they would let them know. 'Dark magic takes time and care, Mr. Corner.' It was always the part of the nurse's spiel that quieted his rage. Dark magic. The war had been over for more than a year, but here he was, in St. Mungo's because of an attack on his wife and his best friend's wife. Dark magic. The seriousness of the situation could not be lifted, it could not be avoided, it could not be denied. Dark magic.

He pushed away from the counter and stalked back to the seats of the waiting room. It was empty save for he and Donovan; the ward for dark magic attacks had been the quietest in St. Mungo's for months, it was as if the healers there didn't know what to do with themselves. Gabriel dropped down into the seat beside Donovan, knowing that his friend was in quite the right state himself. He stared at his friend for a few seconds before clapping his hand on Donovan's shoulder in reassurance.

"They're going to be fine," Gabriel said, though he wasn't sure how believable he sounded.