Wren knew of course that Greengrass would be bricking it; and there was just no way he'd pick up that two-way mirror and ring up their SIO. She sighed, and Accio-ed her handbag closer to herself. The clothes had been borrowed from the Muggle Disguise Department of the Manchester Branch. She looked down at the dirt on the jeans' knees. Honestly, it'd been years since she had to wear Muggles clothes, not since her travels with her Da; and she could hardly remember how they were supposed to be cleaned. But she could just imagine the face of the Disguise Officer who'd have to log in these mucky rugs.
She pulled out her mirror and took a deep breath in.
"Lumos," Wren muttered, and a small light grew in the depth of her own reflection. "Edward Lupin, Room 120, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects." They properly needed a shorter name for their Department.
The surface of the mirror wavered; and Teddy's face appeared. Since Wren had seen him last - two days ago, before her Portkey to Manchester - he'd changed his hair colour again. Fuchsia went well with his skin tone, and the greenish-blue eyes.
"Leary." He smiled to her. "How're you?"
"Um... I had better days," Wren mumbled, and Teddy laughed softly.
"I have the report from the healers on my table right now." He theatrically shook a parchment in front of the mirror. "Should I worry about a cracked rib, or about the signature under the initial examination?" He poked his long finger into the corner of the paper. "Thorin Durinson, StRH." Wren gritted her teeth. "How're you holding up?"
"I'm not a daft teen, Teddy," she muttered. "Seeing my ex isn't going to get to me. Losing the perp will."
Teddy nodded.
"You did everything right. You risk assessed the area with the local officers. You went in with a partner. Greengrass was supposed to follow the lead, while you were in the hospital. Did he?"
Wren properly hated how Teddy always knew everything.
"No..."
"Of course not. He'd be shackling the bloke right now." Teddy sighed. "It's my fault. He wasn't ready for the field. I'm sending him to reexaminations after this case."
"What's the intel on the perp's movements?" Wren asked. Her head was splitting now. She shifted on the bed, and cringed. Where was Durinson with the chomping cabbage for her rib?
Teddy rustled with some papers. "No Portkey or Apparition activity registered. So, unless he's on foot, he's still in the city."
"What do you want me to do? I can tap into the Muggle police system, and see what they have, in case he's taking a Muggle transport."
"Do that. And visit his Mum's place again."
"She gave us nothing last time, Teddy." Wren scoffed. "Kept saying her Bobby was a 'nice boy,' and of course he would 'never break no laws,'" she mimicked the screechy voice of Mrs. Henshall.
Teddy barked a low chuckle. Wren adored how easy it was to make him laugh. Not going there, Leary. Commanding officer, he was her commanding officer. That's all.
"Well, search her place again. You have the warrant. If he didn't leave the city, he might have come back after his Leary related incident in a dark alley." Teddy's voice sounded teasing. Wren stuck her tongue at him.
They were properly behaving inappropriately; but to be honest she was a bit shaken - and not by the spell cracking her rib. Thankfully, Teddy was understanding enough. He'd just cheer her up now; and then they'd go back to being professional - just colleagues and mates.
"Alright, Leary. Get better. Drink your chomping cabbage. Report after your visit to the Henshall place."
Wren nodded.
"Lupin out."
The mirror grew dark, and then Wren's own freckled nose showed in it.
She lifted her eyes - and stared at Thorin Durinson, who'd moved the curtain aside and was standing with a phial in his hand. Judging by the unreadable expression on his face, he'd heard her conversation - and might have seen her stick her tongue at Teddy Lupin. Teddy Lupin over whom Durison and her daft self had broken up six years ago. Bugger.
Durinson came up to her bed, and handed her the phial. She hastily toppled it into her throat, and exhaled sharply. Out of all manky potions she'd had to take for her scrapes and bruises, chomping cabbage was the mankiest.
"Does anything else hurt?" Durinson asked, picking up the empty bottle.
"The head, but it's just.. the normal stuff. You know, just stress related," she answered awkwardly.
He nodded - oh bloody hell, she'd forgotten that tilted nod of his! - and picked up her chart. A quill jumped out of his chest pocket into his hand.
"Just get some potion in the pharmacy on the first floor."
He had his eyes lowered to the parchment, the quill manically scribbling something. She suddenly daftly wondered whether his beautiful handwriting she'd known from school had been now replaced by the healer's usual indecipherable scratching.
"The chief healer will assess you in ten minutes; and you're good to go."
She'd forgotten the long thick black eyelashes as well. No, that was a bloody lie. Her stupid OCD had catalogued anything and everything about him - and she was now greedily comparing. And swooning. Of course she bloody was! And by Merlin's beard, did he have to get wider, hotter, and more... everything?!
"So, just a case then?" he asked, without looking up.
"Sorry what?"
"You, here, in Manchester. Just for a case?" What the bleeding hell was he still writing there? Surely, 'clumsy cow, cracked rib, embarrassed mumbling like a flustered schoolgirl' was all that should go into her chart.
"Yeah," she answered; and then the glacial blue eyes flew up at her.
"Want to get a drink later?"
Wren's first thought was that she evidently had conked her noggin much harder than it'd been assumed. Surely, she was having auditory hallucinations.
"Um..."
He smirked lopsidedly.
"Leary? Your nose's twitching again."
Wren blinked.
"So how about it?" he asked again. "Pint, you, me, later? You know, to catch up like old friends, and such."
All Wren managed to do was to nod jerkily. But then she remembered it'd been six years, and she wasn't the aforementioned schoolgirl. Flustered or not was a different question though.
"Wouldn't that be a tad awkward?" she asked. "You know, given..."
"Given we used to date?"
Here we go. See, Wren me dear, was this that hard? Look at the bloke. All calm, and reasonable, and not running around clucking in panic like a fire-breathing chicken. Just two school mates, catching up over a pint - would it be that weird? Woman up, Leary.
"Nevermind," she answered, and gave him a small smile. "Sure, I'll get a pint with you, if I have time, of course. Give me your number."
He pulled a card out of his robe pocket.
"How long are you staying in the city, you think?"
The bloke was properly smooth, you know? Seriously, like they actually were just school mates, nothing tragic, just chin wagging after not seeing each other for six years. Oh bloody hell, was that how he saw it?!
She picked up the paper rectangular.
"Well, the perp's supposedly still here, so we need to check a few addresses; and once we get him, we're to Portkey him to the Ministry. So, if we don't find him tonight, I'll ring you." She waved the card in the air.
"Well mint that." He gave her a small smile, corners of his lips tense, lips puckered. Oh, she did remember that! That was 'I won this round, and I know how you're panicking in your barmy mind' Durinson smile. Oh you prick. "I'll be waiting and sighing in front of my phone. Ta-rah!"
"Ta-rah?" Wren asked in disbelief, already into his wide back. Oh sodding, sodding hell, just look at those deltoid muscles!
He guffawed and looked at her over her shoulder. The blue eyes were squinted, and Wren's breathing hitched. Blimey, he was fit! And that curled up corner of the lips!
"It's Mancunian for 'goodbye,' Leary. Do keep up."
And then he was gone. Wren groaned and dropped her head back on the pillow.