"Dumbles," Roxanne greeted absently, pretending that untangling her legs and the chain from the blankets was a much more consuming task than it was.

Magic radiated off of him. It left an impression in the air that made many a man cower in the past. It threatened – no, promised swift punishment. "Mrs. Gaunt," he replied gravely. He gently closed the door then stalked towards her. "Let me see your hands."

"There's no need to be rude," she chastised. She rose from the bed and straightened out her modest light blue dress. With her pale complexion she stood out against her dark surroundings like a subdued star. Or a ghost. Or a memory.

"Your hands please."

She hesitated then offered one upturned palm. From the tips of her fingers and all around her nails to a couple of inches past the heel was red. The parts that weren't covered in blisters were raw. A few were scabbing over. This did not improve the visual.

Dumbledore examined it closely for a few tense moments. At long last he peered over his half-moon spectacles but there was no twinkle in his blue eyes. "What have you been up to, my Lady?"

Scowling slightly she retracted her arm and clenched loose fists by her sides. There was no way she could close them entirely without bursting the blisters or cracking the scrabs. As evenly as she could manage she said, "Nothing of negative consequence, I assure you."

"What have you been up to?" He repeated. Each word came out sharp and distinct like a blade's lick.

"I helped that woman, Emmaline Vance," she said with a sigh. "She was dying on the floor. Did you expect me to watch, idly standing by?"

He stared her down a long moment then stepped into her personal space. Roxanne's chin rose defiantly as she stood her ground. "How did you get around my charms?" His voice was lower than a whisper but somehow it filled the room.

The corners of her mouth tugging down she replied, "She was dying, Dumbles."

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he spun on his heel. Abruptly he began to pace in the limited area of her bedroom. Roxanne watched, unsure of whether or not more argument was needed for a man like Albus Dumbledore. After a moment she pulled a hairbrush from her bedside table and began brushing out the mess her hair had become.

She had finished by the time Dumbledore come to a pause behind her. "Your motives may be pure, Roxanne. Then again, they may not be. How am I to know the difference?"

She pulled her much neater locks into a low ponytail then turned to face the glamorous wizard. She noticed that he wasn't looking like his normal immculate self. "Have you ever heard the French proverb 'faith can move mountains'?" She asked cocking her head.

He gave a curt nod. "Yes, I am familiar."

"Others having faith in you alone won't win you this war. You have to have faith in others. Me, for example."

Her blasé shrug infuriated him. The defiant tilt to her chin, the crossed arms, the bold stare; every little thing about her infuriated him. The fact that she was right was most definitely the worst. Her death had been a major hiccup in Voldemort's accension. If she could find someway around his charms, surely she could find a way to escape Grimmauld Place. It was wisest to use her to his advantage. But then they came back to the undeniable point of him not being able to trust her.

For what it was worth, she didn't trust him either.

"Was there anyone present who could legitimize your story?" He asked, returning to his usual serene state. He ran the wrinkled digits of his left hand through his snowy beard.

She nodded and wiggled her fingers carefully. The skin felt tight, much too sensitive. She wished that he would take the chain off her, just for a little while, so that her hands would heal. "Remus Lupin and Sirius Black and the house-elf Kreacher all assisted in some way. The former two will be able to testify. I doubt that the house-elf will be cooperative." She doubted that he would ever admit, short of his master ordering him to do so, to assisting blood-traitors like them save another.

Dumbledore nodded sagely. "I will speak with them shortly. I advise you to remain in your room for the time being." He turned for the door.

Her eyes widened. She knew that words unspoken were the most dangerous of all when it came to Dumbledore. In this case, it was his avoidance of a time frame. It meant that she wasn't allowed out until someone came to fetch her. Something to the same effect had been said shortly before she was thrown into a cell all those years ago. Then she had feared that they would let her rot in that filthy, dank cell. Now that fear returned, rearing its ugly head inside her chest and ripping at her innards.

"But I didn't do anything wrong!" She protested. It was in vain. He continued as if she hadn't spoken at all. Her entire body deflated as the tumbler clicked, locking her into the cramped room.

Time passed like molasses. Since she couldn't leave the dark colors seemed to suck what little dim light she had out of the room. She swathed herself in blankets but it didn't soothe her all that much. The fibers were too scratchy and smelled of her sweat from her previous nightmare. Every lump in the mattress was more pronounced. The walls closed in further and further the longer she sat there staring at the door.

It could've been a few hours or an entire day – she wasn't sure – when a knock startled the stifling silence out of place. She tried to speak but her throat was too dry and thick so she coughed a few times to clear it. "Enter," she called. Her favorite pink haired witch stuck her head in. "Tonks," she exclaimed.

"Wotcher, Rox," she greeted.

Roxanne took in her friend's full Auror garb as she stepped fully into view. "Are you going on another mission?" She asked, easing her numb legs over the side of the bed. She had been sitting for too long in the same position.

"Nope. I'm busting you out of here," Tonks said with a grin.

Roxanne's heart stuttered in her chest. "You're doing what now?" She asked in a scarce whisper.

The grin faltered somewhat. "Well, not permanately. We're going to St. Mungo's. Emmaline Vance has been asking for you."

"She has?" Surprise flittered through her. Emmaline hadn't been conscious for long. To think that she remembered anything with what had happened made Roxanne shudder. The poor, poor witch.

"Yeah. Dumbledore gave us permission to take you to her. Let's go," Tonks said brightly, grabbing at Roxanne's dangling hand. Hissing through her teeth, Roxanne snatched it to her chest protectively and her bell shaped sleeve fell away to reveal the redness. "Roxanne," Tonks paused, confusion and worry marring her usual sunny disposition. "What happened?"

She hesitated. "I don't know what you've been told about Emmaline Vance. She was here yesterday. I tried to help her and … this happened." She displayed both hands now.

The sight had Tonks wincing. "We'll get a Healer to take a look at those while we're at St. Mungo's."

Roxanne pulled her sleeves down over her hands and nodded absently. "If we have time. I assume we have a curfew?" She strode through doorway, Tonks catching up to walk in step. Roxanne's strides were longer than Tonks so the latter had to walk at a brisker pace to keep up.

"It's almost two now. Dumbledore wants us back here by half past three. He says that he doesn't want us to get caught up in the crowd," she explained.

"Good," she said, "that's good."

They ended up in the drawing room. Roxanne glanced over the rug to see the blood stains had been removed. In her mind, though, they were still fresh and crimson and leaking out of-

"Ready?"

Roxanne flinched at the sound of Sirius's deep, rough voice. She glanced down to see that he had the length of her chain gathered in one fist. "Yes. Should we disillusion that?" She asked, gesturing to the chain.

He looked down at it in distaste. "Uh, yeah. You're probably right. Moony? You've always been better at charms than me."

"Good idea," Remus said with a singular nod. He withdrew his wand from within his shabby robes and dragged the tip from Sirius's end to Roxanne's ankle. Unless you knew it was there and were looking directly at it you would definitely miss it. It was nearly invisible.

Roxanne twisted her foot this way and that and gave Remus a grateful smile. "Nicely done."

He gave the slightest of smiles in return. "Thank you, Roxanne." The strangest sensation fluttered in her stomach. Frowning, she pressed her knuckles above her bellybutton and grimaced at him.

"Well," Sirius said in an unnecessary boom and brought his hands together in a resounding 'clap'. He looked from Remus to Roxanne to Tonks. "Let's go."

"I'll go first," Tonks volunteered. She winked at Roxanne as she passed her to the fireplace then spun away in the green flames.

Remus waved towards the fireplace. "You two should go ahead. I'll be right along." Sirius agreed and stepped over the grate first, Roxanne squeezing in beside him. Even though she knew that he'd be right along like he said she gave a tiny wave anyways.

After the swirling, sucking, pinching side-effects of Floo travel had passed, Roxanne and Sirius stepped out into the marble hall. Putting a half foot of distance between them Roxanne began dusting the ash from her blue dress then her hair. She turned over her shoulder at the sound of the Floo activating behind her then grinned slightly as Remus appeared. The ash in his sandy blonde hair nearly matched the grey streaks already there, blending in further when he raked his fingers through to be rid of it.

"Let's go," Tonks chirped, linking her arm through Roxanne's. The two witches walked ahead with the two wizards trailing close behind. Roxanne was secretly glad that she was surrounded by the people she was most familiar with in this era. The sterility was unwelcome. She was used to the dirty cell before her death and the gloomy house of the past few weeks. This place was too sterile, too white, too subdued.

There was an Auror posted outside of Emmaline Vance's semi-private room, another inside the door. They both nodded to Tonks who greeted them brightly in turn. "Can you wait outside?" She asked the Auror standing inside the room, jerking her head in the direction of the open door. The Auror hesitated then complied. There were no other patients sharing the space currently so they were able to speak freely.

Roxanne approached the bed cautiously. Emmaline was lying there partially reclined with bandages covering all four limbs and a sheet bunched at her middle. Roxanne suspected that there were more bandages hiding underneath. Delicately she cleared her throat. "Feeling better, dear?"

"Yes, thanks to you," Emmaline said. It was obvious from her hair gathered in a haphazard topknot that she hadn't been granted a shower since being admitted to the hospital. The tendrils curling around her discolored face didn't have their usual silvery glitter.

Immediately she was shaking her head. "You should be thanking Sirius. He's the one that saved you from those – those Death Eaters." She tugging her sleeves down further and pushed her hair out of her face. It had been strange to hear them referred to as that instead of Knights of Walpurgis. She had to admit that this title suited the followers of Voldemort better.

Emmaline raised her brows. The motion pulled at a healing gash that reached for her temple. "I remember that. Roxanne, correct?" Roxanne nodded once, shifting closer to where she felt Tonks hovering nearby. Emmaline kept her large eyes directly trained on her though, not giving the Auror a second thought. "I remember you very clearly. You were telling me everything was going to be okay, right before I passed out. The very last thing I saw was your face."

"You shouldn't have been awake for that," Roxanne said shaking her head. "The process isn't always comfortable for the recipient, especially when the injuries were as extensive as yours. I'm sorry we couldn't finish." She gestured to the bandages.

"You did enough to save my life. I'm lucky to be here," insisted Emmaline.

"It was a group effort," Roxanne insisted in return.

Emmaline cracked a wry smile (as much of a one considering the multiple splits in her lips). "Humility suits you. Were you a Hufflepuff?"

A strange emotion flushed her cheeks. It felt a little like shame and a little like joy. Neither made sense. "No," she whispered at last, "Slytherin."

"Didn't you say that the Sorting Hat tried to put you in Hufflepuff?" Sirius piped up for the first time. Roxanne really wished he hadn't.

Behind her, Tonks gasped. "It did?" She practically squealed.

"It was a long time ago," Roxanne mumbled, shoulders pulling up like a guard. That didn't stop Tonks from throwing her arms around the other witch, nearly knocking them both forwards onto Emmaline. "Sorry," she said, pulling her hands from the bar she had grabbed to stop their fall.

"Yeah, sorry," Tonks echoed. Her arms still caged Roxanne, chin resting on her shoulder, so that even though her volume dropped Roxanne could hear her clear as day. "I can't believe you were almost a Hufflepuff! Why didn't you tell me?"

Twisting her arm in Tonks's grip, she patted her exuberant friend. "Because it was a long time ago," she repeated.

"I bet you would have made an excellent Hufflepuff," Emmaline mused, giving her an affirming drop of her chin.

"Can we talk about something else?" Her tone came out a bit sharper than she intended so in a softer one she continued, "Have you had any problems, Emmaline? May I call you Emmaline or would you prefer Miss Vance?"

"Emma's fine," she informed her lightly then continued with a stiff shake of her head. "And no, I haven't had any problems. There's an Auror at my door both day and night. I doubt anything would happen. This is St. Mungo's after all. If this place isn't safe, where is?"

This struck Roxanne. "Nowhere," she deadpanned.

Emmaline blinked. "What do you mean?"

Slowly, she shook her head. She couldn't believe… Emmaline was old enough to have participated in the last Wizarding War. How could she not understand? "We are never safe. Not you, not me, not the enemy, not the Muggles, not Light families or Dark or any riding the fence. Strategically speaking, this would be a prime place of attack."

Discomfort strained the air. Remus cleared his throat to disrupt it but this worked only marginally. "I don't believe that's something Emmaline wants to hear right now," he stated, a frown tugging at the ends of his mustache.

"It's the truth though," Roxanne retorted, turning around to face him. Her chin lifted defiantly as her hands flew to her hips. He looked taken aback by her vehemence but she pressed on anyways. "This is war. This isn't a game where you have set boundaries that both parties agree to follow. There aren't rules. I know for a fact that the Dark Lord will do anything – and I do mean anything, Messer Lupin – for victory. I am not going to lie to this woman who nearly died last night for this war by telling her that she's safe. It would be an insult."

Sirius chuckled slightly. Anger flared in Roxanne's chest; did he think this was funny? Death isn't funny and neither is war. She has had tastes of both and could confidently say that they weren't. It wasn't fun in the slightest.

"Life of the party, you are," he joked, winking cheekily at her. Remus scoffed and rolled his eyes but there was a definite grin threatening to break loose. Tonks giggled. Even Emmaline spared a chuckle. They were all glad that the tension following Roxanne's speech had broken.

Roxanne rolled her eyes. "Perhaps we should be going. Emma needs her rest."

"Perhaps you're right," Emmaline agreed, suppressing a yawn.

A softly grinning Tonks reached over to squeeze one of Emmaline's bandage-free toes. "Feel better. We'll come to visit you soon," she promised. Remus, Roxanne, and Sirius all nodded behind her.

Remus shut the door gently once they were all out, as if Emmaline were already sleeping and he didn't want to disturb her. Sighing, Roxanne made for the direction they had arrived. The slither of metal on ceramic caught her attention and she noticed the charm Remus had placed was beginning to fade – rapidly. The sooner they left this sad sterile place the better.

"Where do you think you're going, missy?"

Stopping dead in her tracks, Roxanne raised her pale brows in surprise at her pink-haired friend. "The Floo is this way, isn't it?" She asked jabbing her thumb over her shoulder.

She scoffed playfully. "Did you think I forgot? We need to get those hands of yours checked out." She gestured to where Roxanne was once again tugging her bell sleeves down.

Worry crumpled Remus's brow as he faced her. "They're still not better?"

"How come I'm the only one who doesn't know what's going on?" Sirius demanded, pouting petulantly. Roxanne wouldn't have been surprised if he stomped his foot right then.

Defiantly, Roxanne tucked her hands under her armpits. "It's not an issue of any importance. Really. I'm fine."

"No you are not fine," said Tonks, real frustration starting to leak into her voice. "Your hands look like overcooked cheese pizza." Behind her, Sirius scrunched his face in disgust.

There was a missed beat as clear confusion crossed across her face. She cocked her head to the side. "What's peat-zah?"

Sirius opened his mouth to explain but Tonks cut him off. "Nope, uh-uh. Changing the subject isn't going to get you out of this. Come on." She latched onto Roxanne's elbow and yanked her in the direction opposite of where she had been going. Roxanne, knowing that she had been bested for now, looked over her shoulder longingly to where she knew the empty Floo grates were waiting.