A New Different World

The emergency ward was quieter than usual, the midday lull settling over the healers and interns as they gathered in the break room for lunch. The air smelled of potions and sterilized bandages, mixed with the faint aroma of whatever food people had managed to scrounge up for themselves.

Severus sat at the end of the long wooden table, his plate half-filled with roasted potatoes and buttered bread. He ate mechanically, not particularly concerned with the taste. His mind was elsewhere, as it always was—calculating, observing.

Across from him, Penelope Clearwater chatted with Irina Bess about some minor case they had assisted with that morning. Anthony Greaves sat beside Severus, balancing a spoon on the edge of his bowl of stew, while Zeba Hafeez, ever the meticulous one, was carefully scribbling something in a tiny leather notebook between bites.

The door swung open, and Senior Healer Grant strode in with the kind of purposeful energy that immediately put everyone on alert. Conversations faltered, and all eyes turned to him.

Grant was a man in his late fifties, broad-shouldered with silver-streaked dark hair and sharp brown eyes that rarely missed anything. He was known for his no-nonsense approach and strict discipline, and when he entered a room, people listened.

He didn't waste time. "I hope you're all enjoying your break, because I have an announcement," he said, voice carrying through the room. "You've already been briefed on how healers sometimes accompany Aurors and Magical Law Enforcement teams when needed."

Severus, who had been cutting a potato in half, merely flicked his eyes up but remained silent. Of course, I know this. Healers act as field medics. They stay back, support the combatants, and step in when necessary. Standard protocol. He didn't let any of that show on his face, though. He just continued eating, outwardly indifferent.

Grant went on. "You're lucky—you're going to experience it firsthand in two days."

That got a reaction. A few of the interns straightened in their seats, some murmuring in surprise. Penelope glanced at Severus briefly, as if gauging his reaction. He kept his expression neutral.

"The Ministry is sending a strong Auror and Law Enforcement presence to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament," Grant continued. "And as you all know, that means potential injuries. Dangerous magical creatures, high-risk tasks—it's all a recipe for accidents."

Severus inwardly scoffed. Accidents? That was putting it mildly. He knew exactly what the first task would be. Dragons. The tournament was always a risk, but the Ministry wouldn't dare let the public know just how dangerous it truly was. A handful of well-placed healers at the scene was nothing more than damage control—both for injuries and public relations.

"Since the Ministry doesn't want to take any chances, they've requested specialized healers to be on standby," Grant said. "Emergency ward staff will be among those stationed at Hogwarts, ready to act if needed. And that includes all of you."

There was a pause before the room erupted into hushed discussions. Anthony let out a low whistle. "Well, that's unexpected. Watching the Triwizard Tournament on the job? Not bad."

Irina looked slightly uneasy. "I don't know… If we're being stationed there, it means they're actually expecting injuries."

"Obviously," Zeba muttered, closing her notebook with a snap. "It's not like they're bringing us for decoration."

Grant cleared his throat, cutting off the murmurs. "We'll be leaving the morning of the task. You'll receive further instructions before then. Until that time, focus on your regular duties. Understood?"

A chorus of nods and quiet affirmations followed.

Severus remained silent, his mind already working ahead. This was more than just an opportunity to gain experience as a healer—this was his first real chance to see this world's version of Hogwarts up close. To observe how things were unfolding in this timeline.

The first task meant the return of Rita Skeeter's articles, the first real public spectacle. It meant Karkaroff would be lurking about. It meant Dumbledore would be there, watching everything.

Severus took a slow bite of bread, chewing thoughtfully. Two days. Plenty of time to prepare.

Grant nodded at them and immediately walked out of the small room. Severus was content to eat in peace, but, as usual, that peace was short-lived.

"So, back to Hogwarts, huh?" Anthony Greaves leaned back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head. "Feels strange going back so soon after leaving."

"I know, right?" Penelope Clearwater nodded enthusiastically, her long blonde curls bouncing slightly. "I mean, we just graduated, and now we're returning as trainee healers. It's kind of surreal."

"It'll be nice to see the castle again," Zeba Hafeez added. "I never got to explore all of it before I left. Maybe we'll get some free time between shifts."

Severus continued cutting his potatoes, hoping the conversation would pass him by. It didn't.

"What about you, Severus?" Anthony asked, tilting his head. "Excited to see Hogwarts?"

Severus didn't bother looking up. "Not particularly."

Penelope furrowed her brows before realization dawned on her. "Oh. Right. You never went to Hogwarts."

Severus simply nodded. He had mentioned it before in passing, though he had deliberately kept the details vague.

"Well, you'll love it," Penelope said with a grin. "The castle is beautiful. The moving staircases, the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall—it's like something out of a fairy tale."

"And the library," Zeba added. "It's massive. You'd like it."

Severus gave a small shrug. "Perhaps."

"You could sound a little more interested," Anthony teased.

"I don't share the same nostalgia you do," Severus replied smoothly. "To me, it's just another place."

Zeba rolled her eyes. "You're so dramatic."

Penelope smirked. "No, he's brooding."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "I am not brooding."

"You absolutely are," Zeba said, smirking. "You sit there with that look—like you're contemplating the weight of the world while we talk about normal things."

"I simply lack the same level of enthusiasm as you," Severus corrected, taking a sip of water.

"That's just a fancy way of saying you're brooding," Penelope quipped.

Anthony chuckled. "She's got a point."

Severus let out a quiet sigh, deciding it wasn't worth arguing. If they wanted to call it brooding, so be it.

Penelope grinned at his silence. "See? Even you can't deny it."

Zeba leaned forward. "Seriously, though, you might actually like Hogwarts. Even without the nostalgia, the architecture alone is fascinating. And if you're a fan of magic—which, obviously, you are—there's no better place."

Severus gave another noncommittal nod. He wasn't interested in the aesthetics of Hogwarts. But being stationed there? That was an opportunity. A chance to observe. To compare this world to his own.

Dumbledore. The teachers. The students. Were they the same? Or had this world diverged?

It didn't matter if he was excited or not. He would go, and he would learn. That was all that mattered.

_______________________________________________

Penelope leaned forward slightly, a playful glint in her eyes. "You know, Severus, if you had gone to Hogwarts, I think you'd have been a Ravenclaw."

Severus snorted inwardly. How naïve. He could see why she'd assume that—he was knowledgeable, he read extensively, and he had a methodical way of thinking. But Ravenclaw had never truly appealed to him. The Sorting Hat had offered it as an option once, long ago, but he had dismissed it outright.

By the time he was old enough to recognize the flaws in the house system, he no longer cared. Houses were just labels, dividing students into neat little categories that hardly reflected their true natures. As a child, his mother had spoken of Slytherin's greatness, filling his head with its supposed superiority. It had taken years to see through that illusion.

Still, Penelope's assumption amused him.

Zeba hummed in agreement. "Yeah, I could see that. You're sharp, and you obviously value intelligence."

Anthony, however, shook his head. "Nah, I don't think so. He doesn't seem like the bookish type. At least, not the kind that would fit in with the Ravenclaw crowd."

"I disagree," Penelope countered. "Ravenclaws don't have to be bookworms. It's about curiosity, intelligence, and wit." She turned to Severus. "What do you think?"

"I think," Severus said dryly, "that speculating about something that never happened is a waste of time."

Zeba rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. Humor us. If not Ravenclaw, then what?"

Severus simply arched a brow. "You tell me."

The three exchanged glances, as if considering their options.

"Hufflepuff?" Zeba guessed.

Severus blinked. "Hufflepuff?"

"Well," she shrugged, "you're hardworking, aren't you? And you haven't struck me as arrogant."

Severus pressed his lips together, fighting the urge to laugh. Of all the houses they could have chosen… Hufflepuff? Truly?

Penelope seemed to find it equally amusing. "I don't see it," she admitted, smiling. "No offense, but you don't exactly radiate warmth and loyalty."

"I'd rather not radiate anything," Severus muttered.

Anthony chuckled. "So, not Hufflepuff, then. Not Ravenclaw. That leaves Gryffindor or Slytherin."

Severus hummed noncommittally, watching as they considered the possibilities.

"I don't think he's a Gryffindor," Penelope mused.

Anthony scoffed. "You're saying that like it's an insult."

"It's not! I just don't see it." She turned back to Severus, studying him. "So, that leaves Slytherin."

"Process of elimination," Zeba said with a smirk. "Not very Ravenclaw of us."

Severus simply gave a faint smirk, leaning back in his chair. "Are you satisfied now?"

"Not quite," Penelope said, tilting her head. "You don't seem like you care about house pride. So what would you have picked?"

Severus shrugged. "I wouldn't have picked at all."

They stared at him, waiting for more, but he didn't elaborate. Eventually, Anthony shook his head, grinning.

"You're frustrating, you know that?"

"I've been told," Severus said, finishing the last bite of his meal.