A/N: So sorry for the wait! I just moved into a new place in preparation for school. It's been a hectic week, and I'm actually hacking into someone else's wifi right now to post this since I haven't set mine up yet eheh. A long chapter – Christmas always warrants a long one, right?
There's a hint of mature elements here, but nothing serious. I guess it's solo F if you want to get technical about it. Sorry, no Remus action.
gypsyfurface: Thanks for the heads up about the faulty posting and for still taking the time to leave me a review! I definitely agree about Remus working at the apothecary - that much time together probably will result in some difficult interactions *hint* eheh.
Marylin C: Hello! Happy new year! I'm so glad you all are liking Claire. She's become much more important than I could have anticipated at the beginning, but I'm excited about where she's going. And your comment about narrator POV is spot on - I definitely take it into account while writing. I'm so sorry to hear about your breakup and this new heartache of yours, but each relationship makes us a bit stronger in the end, right? Good luck! I'm rooting for you!
Eirithdiel: Hahaha that scene would be really sweet, but you know I'm all about the anguish. I'm throwing a wrench in there with this one, so there probably won't be a whole lot of sweet scenes in the near future. Sorry! Thank you for the wonderful review though! I hope you're doing well!
Nikos Pyrr: To be honest, I didn't think of it much either until just recently, and it just so happened to fit perfectly into this part of the story! Serendipity, right? Will and Claire are turning out to be a lot of fun for me though, so I'm glad you enjoyed it! Thank you so much!
missalex3030: Hello! I love the twins too! I'm a little sad since they probably won't be showing up much in the near future, but I'm hoping to inject them in there again soon. I hope you're doing well! Thank you again as always!
Disclaimer: I own none of this!
Source: Rowling, J. K. (2003). Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Scholastic: New York.
December 30, 1989
Dear Remus,
It's late, almost morning. I had a dream about you again. It was the first one I'd had of you in a while, perhaps a year, but unlike all the others, I didn't wake up unhappy. I felt strangely at peace.
I don't think I can tell you the dream. I feel like it makes it less significant, right? It's like a secret for me and me only, a treasure to hold close to the heart.
But I had to tell you, didn't I? I wanted to dangle it in front of your face. I wanted you to beg me to tell you what it was. A little sadistic, isn't it?
But it was happy, and I'm happy, and that ache I usually feel after dreaming about you is hardly there at all. Does this mean that I'm over you yet?
Maybe not, but it's exciting. I can honestly say that I hope you're well, and I hope you're happy because I'm happy. I hope your sleep is filled with happy dreams tonight as well.
- Rowan
Chapter 37: The First Bite
I.
"Fuck!"
Rowan shoved her goggles unceremoniously up onto her head to rub at her eyes. She let out a deep sigh as darkness pressed into them with the pressure of her palms, letting out a loud yawn. Claire looked over at her with a tired smile.
"You should really get some sleep," she said. Rowan shook her head.
"No, I'll work another hour. I just need to walk around a bit," she said, standing up from her stool with a tall stretch of her arms. She heaved herself for the door to the shop. "I'm going to make some coffee. Want some?" she asked over her shoulder. Claire nodded.
"Yes, please!" she called. Rowan nodded tiredly and marched up the stairs.
In the back room lab on the ground floor, a series of cauldrons brewed quietly alone. Rowan peered over them with an approving nod. They were all basic potions needed for the shop stock. All the critical research took place in the basement. She placed the lid back on the cauldron of Tooth Whitening Solution and headed to the counter, where her kettle sat.
Rowan let out another yawn as she set the kettle to boil and leaned against the counter. Peering out the window, she saw the moon high and blue in the sky. It was half-full, a couple of weeks away from the full moon. Rowan smiled softly, leaning her cheek into her hand as she listened to the soft rumbling of the water in the kettle.
Her mind wandered lazily to Remus, as it had been doing more frequently as of late. He'd taken to working at the apothecary as easily as she'd expected. His easy loping grace and natural warmth pleased all of her customers greatly, even those who had guessed at his condition. Stewart and Eugenia had been thrilled to see that Rowan had taken Eugenia's suggestion to heart, and she'd had to avoid some knowing grins from the married couple.
The rest of her patients had taken to him well also. A couple of the more skittish subjects opened up in a completely different way in his presence, much to Rowan's delight and surprise. The sight of one of their kind working successfully and happily was certainly uplifting, especially around the stressful holiday season.
It seemed almost too good to be true. Remus had fallen into the routine beautifully. She'd even had him brew a couple of simple potions for the shop, and though they weren't quite up to par with hers, they were certainly passable for normal use. She'd had to hold herself back from throwing her arms around him with happiness at the bashfully delighted look on his face at her approval.
Rowan sighed. Their new dynamic as employer and assistant was going better than she could have hoped, but the constant proximity was growing harder and harder to bear. Their hands had brushed on more than a few occasions, and he'd even caught her staring dumbly at him one too many times. She wanted to drown herself in one of her cauldrons with embarrassment. She was acting like a hormonal teenager again! Why couldn't she just get her libido under control?
That's what it was, right? Her libido was making this difficult. She hadn't been touched for much longer than she'd ever be able to admit, other than to Mina or Alfred, and it was beginning to take its toll on her physically. Perhaps she needed to pursue a physical relationship again, something casual and easy. She'd done it before, and though none of those "relationships" had ended well – she'd been called a cold bitch in more ways than she could count – if she didn't resolve this soon, she was going to do something incredibly stupid.
Rowan groaned. This was different though. Sure, she'd used different men on a few occasions, but Remus had never been around to possibly see any of those instances. There hadn't been any risk of running into Remus or accidentally letting those secret moments slip in casual conversation.
Oh, but she needed it! She closed her eyes and thought of those long scarred fingers, the shape of his bottom lip as he chewed it while he worked. His clothes, so baggy and worn, did nothing to hide the slim form she used to know so well. She supposed he hadn't aged well by conventional standards, but the chiseled lines in his face and the hard angle of his jaw seemed more appealing to her than they ever had. Remus was a man now, in every sense of the word. Whatever softness from their youth was clearly gone. The planes of his chest and back were hard. The thinness of his limbs did nothing to conceal the underlying strength there.
Her fingers fell into her lap of their own accord, dancing up the length of her thighs. She remembered the way those large hands used to grip the muscle there, the way his fingers had languorously pulled and pried at her deepest desires. Her fingertips pressed against the soft flesh of her hips, smoothing down the crease between her thighs and pelvis. Her head fell back slightly. Remus' face came to mind, the heat of his chest pressing against her back. The deep rumble of his voice flickered against her ear.
Bend over for me. That's it. Good girl.
All those times before in her flat, all the ways he used to press her into her kitchen table, into the counter, over her bed – no one had ever touched her like that. None of the other men had ever even come close. Her fingers flitted lower until she finally touched herself at the apex of her thighs. She gasped, head thrown back.
God, you feel so perfect, Rowan.
"Remus," she gasped.
The pressure was building as she pressed her fingers against that spot. Frustration was welling. It wasn't enough! Her own fingers had never matched up to his. She needed more pressure, something deeper-
But she couldn't finish. Rowan shrieked and fell back backward as a flash of fire appeared before her. Crashing to the floor, Rowan groaned as she felt her hip begin to bruise and looked up with panic and embarrassment, eyes widening as she recognized Fawkes' golden shadow. Dumbledore's voice echoed from the flame.
"Arthur Weasley has been attacked. Aurors to the Ministry; Rowan, to St. Mungo's. Bring your most potent anti-venom."
And with that, the flame stretched its neck into a silent cry and vanished blindingly. Rowan stared dumbly into the deep darkness for a moment before Arthur's smiling face sprang to mind. She scrambled to her feet just in time to see Claire burst through the door.
"Rowan, I heard a crash! Are you okay?" she asked frantically. Rowan noted the ache in her hip from where she'd fallen, but she stumbled forward to grasp Claire's shoulders.
"Arthur's been attacked at the Ministry. Fetch a vial of Acromantula venom, dittany, and bezoar!" she rushed. Claire stared wide-eyed for a moment before drawing herself up fiercely. She dashed down the stairs while Rowan rushed around the back room, grabbing her coat and a couple of empty vials and droppers. Claire's stomping rushed back up the stairs, hands fumbling with the requested materials. Rowan summoned a bag from the corner and dropped the items in before looking at Claire once more.
"Lock up and go home immediately. Do not leave until you receive word from one of the senior members that it's safe. Understand?" she breathed. Claire nodded again.
"I understand. Go. Be careful," she said quickly. Rowan squeezed her hand and then spun for the door. As soon as her feet hit the cobblestone, she was gone.
Remus rushed down the corridors of St. Mungo's darting around Healers and patients. Thankfully, it was very late in the night so there were few obstructions, but his mind was certainly not on passerby.
After receiving Dumbledore's message from the portrait of Phineas Nigellus, Remus had immediately left 12 Grimmauld Place for St. Mungo's. Though he'd wanted to wait to see Harry and the Weasley children, the rest of the Order members needed to know what had happened. Rowan and Molly needed to know what happened.
Finally, he managed to find the Creature-Induced Injuries Ward. He let out a small sigh of relief before continuing in.
"Excuse me, sir! You can't go in there!" shouted a Healer as he rushed by. Remus felt frustration seize him as he turned to shout back, but a large looming form obstructed his view. Remus' eyes widened as he took in the dark bushy eyebrows and moustache.
"It's fine. He's with me," came the deep happy voice. The imposing Healer looked down at Remus with a crinkling smile. Remus felt his own face stretch in return.
"Lescos! Merlin, how are you?" he cried, shaking the older man's hand happily. Lescos grinned and squeezed Remus' hand firmly.
"Just fine, lad. Great to see you," he greeted. He then nodded to the room behind Remus. "But we can catch up later. Your mate's not in great shape. Winnie's in there already with Molly administering that anti-venom of hers. Your friends are in my office. You can talk in private there." Remus nodded quickly.
"Thank you so much," he said quietly. Lescos nodded once more.
"Get going, laddie."
Remus didn't need to be told again. He turned and rushed down the hall for Lescos' office where he was sure Moody, Kingsley, and Mina would be looking for answers.
"Is he going to be okay? Is it working?"
Rowan nodded numbly but didn't look up from her work to address Molly. She was hunched over Arthur Weasley's pale and wheezing form, administering the mixture of anti-venom she'd quickly concocted with one hand and a Blood-Replenshing potion with the other while a senior Healer ran over the black-purple ointment with a glowing wand and a series of complex incantations she didn't recognize. Rowan let the soft murmurs of her impromptu partner wash over her as she trailed her fingers and the dropper of anti-venom over the worst of Arthur's bite wounds. She suppressed a cringe as Arthur flinched and groaned as the anti-venom seeped into a particularly deep wound. The dark ooze sizzled and smoked as it hit his infected blood, releasing a smell reminiscent of burning rubber.
She'd been at it for nearly an hour now. She couldn't believe how much anti-venom he needed. The gashes in his skin were terribly deep – screaming and bloody. Arthur had been completely unconscious from the blood loss by the time he'd arrived, and it was growing harder to balance the two potions at once. It seemed that the more she administered the anti-venom, the more blood flowed from the wounds, and though she was relieved to see that it was the infected blood that was seeping out now, Arthur was surely not going to survive if he didn't even have enough blood to circulate oxygen throughout his body.
But the blood was beginning to flow red again. Slowly, slowly, the dark infected liquid began to run bright once more, and Rowan was able to stop the flow of anti-venom. She wiped away a large puddle of the dark blood from the deepest of his wounds and saw that they were now a healthy red – they'd managed to pull the poison out.
With a heaving sigh, Rowan slumped back into her seat, assessing her work carefully. Her eyes trailed over Arthur's form, noting that she hadn't missed any wounds. The Healer continued to work, however, trailing his wand over the wounds with his wand glowing light blue in the white light of the hospital room.
An old memory emerged of Lily hunched over the broken body of her godmother in the old Potter house in the dark wake of the Death Eaters' attack that had taken John Potter's life. Hadn't Lily also recited something similar over Julia? This old Healer had that same determined expression, the same tense shoulders. Would Lily have been the one healing Arthur now if she hadn't died?
Rowan looked down at her hands. Her robes were certainly ruined. A sickening mixture of purple, red, and black blood stained her arms and clothes. It was embedded beneath her fingernails, in her hair, on her face. She realized dully that she'd worn her lab coat to the hospital and would need to buy another. She could hardly believe so much had come from one man. The pallid tone of Arthur's face told her that it shouldn't. It was remarkable that he'd survived even this far, considering how much he'd lost.
Rowan shook herself. She couldn't be entertaining such dark thoughts now. Arthur had made it to the hospital in time. He was going to be fine. She looked down at Molly, who was still trembling at Arthur's side, knelt on the floor with his good hand gripped between hers. Her eyes were red and puffy, full of tears. Her gaze was glued to his face, lips quivering still. Rowan made a move to place a hand on the woman's shoulder before realizing the filth there. She pulled her hand back.
"He's going to be all right, Molly. Look, his wounds are closing up," she said, gesturing to the wounds which were now coming together. Though they remained open, their depths were shallower. The blood was pooling at the surface as it was pressed from the flesh. Finally, the Healer's soft voice also came to close, sitting back into his seat with a deep sigh.
"This is one of the worst snake attacks I've ever seen. He's incredibly lucky that you all got him here so quickly," he said in a wheezy voice. Molly's eyes widened with fright.
"Is he going to be okay?" she gasped. The old Healer rubbed his eyes tiredly but then gave her a bleary smile.
"Yes, he's going to be just fine," he said. Molly let out a whimper and pressed her face to Arthur's hand. A fresh wave of tears broke and spilled over his palm.
"Oh, thank god," she cried. "Thank god!" Rowan smiled softly and rubbed Molly's shoulder consolingly.
"That was quite an inventive anti-venom, madam. I've never seen anything like it," said the Healer to Rowan, standing from his seat. "Acromantula venom, bezoar, and dittany, was it?" Rowan smiled modestly.
"Yes, the Acromantula venom is peculiar in that it attacks other venoms when combined with bezoar. It's one of my own concoctions. I've never had to use it before now though," she said. He nodded eagerly.
"Genius. I never would have thought of that. Perhaps we should commission a stock of that potion from you," he said. Rowan smiled.
"I'll be sure to give Lescos a batch," she said. The Healer nodded again, like a wise crane.
"I'll admit that I've been hoping to meet you for quite some time now. From that Wolfsbane potion of yours and from what Healer Farago has told me, your reputation certainly precedes you," he said. Rowan felt her cheeks go pink.
"Oh, you're both being very generous," she said. He smiled and guided her out of the room to allow Molly and Arthur some privacy.
"Well, you've certainly made our lives much easier with our werewolf patients," he continued. "In fact, we just received a young man with his first bite just yesterday. Terrible injury – I'm not sure he would've made it if it hadn't been for your work." Rowan's lips tightened sadly. Though the number of new cases had decreased dramatically since her publication of the Wolfsbane, it seemed there were still some patients she couldn't reach in time.
"Has he been infected?" she asked. The Healer nodded gravely.
"I'm afraid so. I don't think he's quite understood the severity of his situation, however – still in shock, the poor boy," he said sadly. Rowan grimaced.
"Perhaps you should speak to him in the morning. I think it'd be good to let him make contact with you as soon as possible so that he knows his options," came a voice. They both looked up to see Lescos smiling down at them.
"Healer Farago," greeted the older Healer.
"Healer Smethwyck," he greeted back. "You mind if I steal her away for a moment? She's got some friends here looking for her." Rowan suddenly remembered the rest of her allies there waiting for answers. She glanced down to the older Healer. He nodded at her to go.
"Of course. Thank you for your hard work. Hopefully I'll see you again before you leave," he said. Rowan smiled and nodded.
"I hope so too. And thank you. Really, I can't thank you enough for saving Arthur," she said. He smiled warmly up at her before turning down the other corridor. Rowan looked back up at Lescos.
"Who's here?" she asked.
"Alastor, Kingsley, and Mina brought him in. Remus just arrived. He's been telling them what happened I think," he said softly. Rowan frowned.
"How does he know?" she asked. Lescos guided her down the corridor by the shoulder.
"I'm sure he can explain better than I. It's quite the fantastic story," he said quietly. "We'll get you cleaned up and then join them." Rowan nodded and followed grimly.
The silence in Lescos Farago's office was heavy as Remus' story settled in. Moody and Mina looked almost angry while Lescos and Kingsley's expressions remained cool and neutral. Remus dared a glance to Rowan in the corner. Her face was pulled into a dark grimace, hands fidgeting and peeling over each other nervously.
She was no doubt worried about Harry. He'd certainly saved Arthur's life – they were deeply fortunate that he'd seen into the snake's head – but the suggestion that Voldemort and Harry's psyches were connected was the last thing a godmother wanted to hear. Remus watched as Rowan's eyes squeezed shut, head bowing tiredly. He could see dark crescents beneath her nails and could only guess that they were of old blood from Arthur. He wanted to scoop her into his arms as he always had before in the face of dark times, but he remained in his seat, peeling his eyes away from her.
"So where is Harry now?" asked Mina quietly.
"He's at Headquarters with the Weasleys and Snuffles," said Lupin. She nodded warily before looking back down with that dark brooding look.
"He'll need Occlumency lessons," growled Moody.
"I think Dumbledore's already planning them with Severus," said Remus. Rowan looked up with an angry flare in her eyes.
"Snape? Can we really expect Snape to teach Harry? You can hardly call his potions lessons passable. How can we expect him to teach Harry anything?" she asked acidly. Remus grimaced.
"I'm sorry. You'll have to talk to Dumbledore," he said.
"Why isn't Dumbledore teaching Harry?" asked Mina accusingly. Rowan nodded fervently in agreement. Remus could only offer a contrite grimace.
"I don't know. I'm sorry," he said again. Rowan shook her head tiredly and leaned her elbows onto her knees. She took a deep breath before moving to stand up. Remus stood quickly to meet her.
"I'm going to go see him – Harry, I mean," she said. Remus caught her by the hand as she turned for the door.
"Winnie, you need to get some sleep. You're about to pass out on your feet," he said sternly. Rowan shook her head.
"I'm fine. Harry needs me. I have to-"
"Rowan, Remus is right," piped up Kingsley.
"Yeah, Snuffles is there with him. You're of no use to him if you can barely even stand," agreed Moody. Rowan looked between all of them dazedly. Remus could see the torment trickling down her face. He stepped closer and squeezed her hand.
"Let me take you home. You can get some sleep and go see him in the morning. Okay?" he murmured. Rowan's lips tightened, the conflict still swirling there.
"Harry will be fine, Winnie. I'll stop by Headquarters and check in on him," said Mina, standing to join Rowan. She glanced over at the Auror, who offered her a soft smile, but still, she didn't look convinced. Remus raised a hand to her cheek. Her eyes flickered up to his face with surprise. They were bloodshot with heavy bags forming beneath them.
"Winnie," he whispered. Her lips tightened, eyes scanning over him. Finally, her shoulders slumped, and she nodded.
"Okay," she mumbled. Remus's hand dropped to her lower back with relief. He pushed her gently for the door before glancing over his shoulder.
"Moody, Dumbledore said he'd like it if you stopped by the castle in the morning," he said. The old Auror nodded.
"Aye," he grunted. Remus then shot Lescos another grateful smile and a glance to Mina. She offered him a solemn, approving nod. He then followed Rowan down the corridor where she was waiting at the lift, looking frail and worn. He didn't even bother holding himself back from sweeping her into his arms as he reached her. She didn't fight him.
"Are you sure you're going to be okay?"
Rowan nodded numbly as she and Remus reached the apothecary. She pulled the collar of her coat up higher as a cold wind blew down the streets of Hogsmeade, a shiver trembling down her spine. Remus' voice was partially lost to the howling wind, but its deep rumble still hit her deep.
When they reached the door, she glanced up at him. He was gazing down at her intensely with searching eyes. She remembered vaguely the heat she'd felt earlier that night as she thought of him and was surprised that she could no longer feel it, even with him so close. She really was tired, she thought grimly. Perhaps it was best that he'd insisted on her coming home first.
"Thanks for seeing me home," she said softly. The corner of his lips twitched upward into a soft smile, and then, to her surprise, he pulled her in once again.
His scent hit her hard again, even as the wind blew around them. She could hardly feel it as he wrapped his long arms around her, but she thought vaguely that he must be very cold, taking the brunt of the breeze. She closed her eyes for a moment as his heat sank into her, breathing deeply as she pressed her forehead into his chest. She knew it must be very late. Perhaps she could excuse her behavior to the late hour and fatigue.
Just another secret in the dark, she thought to herself.
Finally, she pulled away. She couldn't get too comfortable here. He needed to go home and rest, too, after all. She looked up at him again with a small smile.
"Thank you," she said. He smiled, hand raising her cheek again.
"He's going to be all right, you know," he murmured. Rowan nodded dumbly, eyes flickering shut again as the roughness of his hand pressed against her skin. Another light shiver ran down her spine. She told herself it was from the cold.
"Well, I'll see you in the morning then," she said, opening her eyes once more. He nodded.
"Good night." Rowan shot him a small smile one last time before turning for the door. As she unlocked it with a swift click, she didn't look back at Remus. She stepped inside into the dark shop without another glance, heading straight for the stairs to her flat. She fell asleep almost immediately as she hit her bed.
II.
Harry wiped his palms on his baggy jeans as he and the Weasleys made their way along the narrow corridors of St. Mungo's. Despite the fatigue in his bones, he could hardly keep still. Would Arthur be afraid of him? Would he even be awake?
Harry and the Weasleys had stayed up all night in the kitchen with Sirius as they'd waited for news of Mr. Weasley's injury. Just at daybreak, Mrs. Weasley had arrived with happy news – he was going to be okay. Harry wasn't quite sure how he hadn't vomited with relief.
But the relief didn't last long. Although everyone else had taken a long nap after breakfast, Harry hadn't allowed himself to fall asleep, terrified that the dreams might return again. The dream or vision or whatever it was still lingered. The anger and hatred he'd felt towards Dumbledore lingered, and the fear that followed sank into his blood as if he, too, had been bitten by the snake.
Bitten by me, whispered a voice.
Harry had tried to speak to Sirius about this terrifying darkness, but his godfather had brushed it off.
"You're in shock, Harry. You're blaming yourself for something you only witnessed, and it's lucky you did witness it, or Arthur might have died. Just stop worrying," he'd said.
Stop worrying! How could he stop worrying? He had bitten Mr. Weasley! And he'd wanted to attack Dumbledore too! Was this why Dumbledore had been avoiding him? Did he know that this was going to happen? Had he been waiting for it?
Harry was so wrapped up in his dark thoughts that he barely noticed the corridors as they walked briskly through the hospital. The walls were lined with portraits of famous Healers, lit by crystal bubbles full of candles that floated up on the ceiling. Harry mused that they looked like giant soapsuds. Witches and wizards in lime green robes walked in and out of the doors they passed. A foul smell came from one room and a wail from another. Up another flight of stairs and around another winding corner, they finally came across a large ward labeled the "Creature-Induced Injuries" corridor, where the second door on the right bore the words "Dai Llewellyn Ward: Serious Bites."
"We'll wait outside, Molly," Tonks said. "Arthur won't want too many visitors at once. It ought to be just the family first."
Mad-Eye growled his approval of this idea and set himself with his back against the corridor wall, his magical eye spinning in all directions. Harry's throat tightened and drew back too, but Mrs. Weasley reached out a hand and pushed him through the door.
"Don't be silly, Harry, Arthur wants to thank you," she said warmly. Harry's mouth tightened as he walked warily through the doors.
The ward was small and rather dingy as the only window was narrow and set high in the wall facing the door. Most of the light came from more shining crystal bubbles clustered in the middle of the ceiling. The walls were of paneled oak, and there was a portrait of a rather vicious-looking, wizard on the wall, captioned Urquhart Rackharrow, 1612–1697, inventor of the entrail-expelling curse.
There were only three patients. Mr. Weasley was occupying the bed at the far end of the ward beside the tiny window. Harry noted that a curtain was pulled around the middle bed. A female silhouette could be seen against the pale curtain, apparently sitting with a male patient. Harry frowned – that silhouette looked very familiar.
But he couldn't spend much time looking at the mysterious shadow. Harry was pleased and relieved to see that Mr. Weasley was propped up on several pillows and reading the Daily Prophet by the solitary ray of sunlight falling onto his bed. He looked around as they walked toward him and, seeing whom it was, beamed.
"Hello!" he called, throwing the Prophet aside. "Bill just left, Molly - had to get back to work, but he says he'll drop in on you later."
"How are you, Arthur?" asked Mrs. Weasley, bending down to kiss his cheek and looking anxiously into his face. "You're still looking a bit peaky."
"I feel absolutely fine," said Mr. Weasley brightly, holding out his good arm to give Ginny a hug. "If they could only take the bandages off, I'd be fit to go home."
"Why can't they take them off, Dad?" asked Fred.
"Well, I start bleeding like mad every time they try," said Mr. Weasley cheerfully, reaching across for his wand, which lay on his bedside cabinet, and waving it so that six extra chairs appeared at his bedside to seat them all. "It seems there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake's fangs that keeps wounds open. Lucky we have Rowan around – Healer Smethwyck said I'd probably have gone into shock if it weren't for that amazing purply goopy stuff of hers. In the meantime I just have to keep taking a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour." Harry perked up at the sound of his godmother's name.
"Rowan was here?" he asked. Arthur brought a finger up to his lips.
"Shhh," he hushed quietly. He then nodded to the curtained bed. "She's still here, talking to that fellow over there," he said, dropping his voice. "Bitten by a werewolf, poor chap – Lescos thought it'd be good for her to talk to him about his next steps."
"A werewolf?" whispered Mrs. Weasley, looking alarmed. "Is he safe in a public ward? Shouldn't he be in a private room?"
"It's two weeks till full moon," Mr. Weasley reminded her quietly. "They've been talking to him this morning, the Healers, you know, trying to persuade him he'll be able to lead an almost normal life. I said to him — didn't mention names, of course — but I said I knew a werewolf personally, very nice man, who finds the condition quite easy to manage."
"What did he say?" asked George.
"Said he'd give me another bite if I didn't shut up," said Mr. Weasley sadly. "He's pretty devastated it seems, rightly so. He was in a bad state until Rowan showed up. Got an amazing bedside manner, she does," he said proudly. Harry nodded and glanced over at his godmother's silhouette again. It seemed she'd put an Imperturbable Charm on the curtain – he couldn't hear anything they were saying. She looked to be talking quietly to the young man, who was gesturing wildly but remained in the bed. Rowan didn't seem at all afraid, so Harry could only assume that she was safe. He looked back to Mr. Weasley.
"So, you going to tell us what happened, Dad?" asked Fred, pulling his chair closer to the bed.
"Well, you already know, don't you?" said Mr. Weasley, with a significant smile at Harry. "It's very simple — I'd had a very long day, dozed off, got sneaked up on, and bitten."
"Is it in the Prophet, you being attacked?" asked Fred, indicating the newspaper Mr. Weasley had cast aside.
"No, of course not," said Mr. Weasley, with a slightly bitter smile. "The Ministry wouldn't want everyone to know a dirty great serpent got —"
"Arthur!" said Mrs. Weasley warningly.
"— got — er — me," Mr. Weasley said hastily, though Harry was quite sure that was not what he had meant to say.
"So where were you when it happened, Dad?" asked George.
"That's my business," said Mr. Weasley, though with a small smile. He snatched up the Daily Prophet, shook it open again and said, "I was just reading about Willy Widdershins's arrest when you arrived. You know Willy turned out to be behind those regurgitating toilets last summer? One of his jinxes backfired, the toilet exploded, and they found him lying unconscious in the wreckage covered from head to foot in —"
"When you say you were 'on duty,'" Fred interrupted in a low voice, "what were you doing?"
"You heard your father," whispered Mrs. Weasley. "We are not discussing this here! Go on about Willy Widdershins, Arthur."
"Well, don't ask me how, but he actually got off on the toilet charge," said Mr. Weasley grimly. "I can only suppose gold changed hands —"
"You were guarding it, weren't you?" said George quietly. "The weapon? The thing You-Know-Who's after?"
"George, be quiet!" snapped Mrs. Weasley.
"Anyway," said Mr. Weasley in a raised voice, "this time Willy's been caught selling biting doorknobs to Muggles, and I don't think he'll be able to worm his way out of it because according to this article, two Muggles have lost fingers and are now in St. Mungo's for emergency bone regrowth and memory modification. Just think of it, Muggles in St. Mungo's! I wonder which ward they're in?"
And he looked eagerly around as though hoping to see a signpost.
"Didn't you say You-Know-Who's got a snake, Harry?" asked Fred, looking at his father for a reaction. "A massive one? You saw it the night he returned, didn't you?"
"That's enough."
Everyone looked up to see Rowan emerging from the curtained bed looking very weary. Harry caught a glimpse of a red-eyed young man in the bed behind her just before she closed the curtain once more. He looked as if he'd been crying. Harry felt a deep pang of sympathy for him – even as manageable as the condition was now, it was still a very hard life indeed.
"Your mum said to stop asking questions, Fred. Just drop it," said Rowan firmly with a hard look. He glared but didn't respond. Molly took the opportunity to hop to her feet and begin ushering the teenagers out.
"All of you, out! Alastor and Tonks want to see you, Arthur. The rest of you can wait outside," said Mrs. Weasley, shoving the teenagers toward the door.
"I'm going to talk to Harry, Molly," said Rowan quietly. The older woman nodded.
"I'll update you later then," she said. Rowan smiled tiredly and followed the children out. Harry felt her take his elbow gently, pulling him out of the waiting room for the corridor. Ron and Ginny stared after him, but Rowan had him out of eyesight before they could protest. They pulled around one corner and then another until they came across a large door labeled "Lescos Farago: Head Healer, Creature-Induced Injuries." Harry read the name several times as they waited for someone to answer the door.
A large, imposing man answered the door. Harry nearly stumbled as he was overtaken by the man's shadow. The Healer grinned down at the both of them. Harry recognized the mischief in the man's eyes – this was certainly Aarini's father.
"Morning, Lescos," said Rowan. He beamed down at her.
"Feeling a bit rested, girlie?" he asked. Rowan smiled tiredly.
"A bit," she said shortly. "Mind if I borrow your office for a few minutes?" she asked. Healer Farago nodded with a smile.
"Of course. Take all the time you need," he said graciously. He then turned to Harry and extended a broad hand. "You must be James and Lily's boy. Been a long time, it has. Nice to meet you," he said. Harry smiled.
"Nice to meet you too, erm, again I suppose," he said. The older man beamed again, bushy moustache twitching amusedly.
"Aari says some great things about you. I feel like I have to apologize for her energy. She's quite the handful sometimes," he said. Harry grinned sheepishly.
"She's certainly something," he said. Lescos let out a snorting giggle that Harry was shocked to hear from such a large man.
"Aye. I'm afraid that's probably my fault. I can't help but spoil her rotten," he said fondly. Harry thought that he looked very much like a doting father. He then gave them a nod and stood to the side, letting them slink into the office. He stepped out and looked to Rowan.
"I'll be around, so just come find me if you need anything. Take all the time you need," he repeated. Rowan smiled gratefully.
"Thank you, Lescos," she said. He smiled and closed the door behind him, leaving her and Harry alone. She took no time in waiting to sweep him into a tight embrace.
"Are you okay?" she whispered. She pulled away and pressed her hands to his cheeks and hair, eyes roving over him quietly. Before he could stop them, his lips began to quiver. All of the anxiety he'd been pushing away throughout the night threatened to break through. That lingering anger still swirled in his gut, the rage and hatred.
But also the fear.
Harry was afraid, afraid of what he was becoming, of what he could do. Sure, it was Voldemort's snake that had bitten Mr. Weasley, but it had been him, too, hadn't it? He'd felt his teeth sink into Mr. Weasley's skin. He'd felt himself recoil back and then shoot in again for the kill. He'd wanted to attack Dumbledore, to feel that soft flesh in his mouth once more.
He was afraid.
Rowan seemed to feel the fear in Harry. Her hands stopped roving over his face, stilling on his cheeks. Her lips tightened with conflict and then her arms pulled him in again. Harry wrapped his arms around her tightly. He was so much taller than she now, but he still felt as if she could hold all of his worries. She seemed to hold him up effortlessly.
He needs something – something he didn't have before. A weapon.
It was him! He was the weapon! The Order wasn't protecting him from the Death Eaters. They were protecting other people from him! That's why Dumbledore had been avoiding him. That's why he'd left Harry alone for so long at the Dursleys. It wasn't to protect him from the Death Eaters. It was to protect the Wizarding World from him!
He felt filthy, dirty, contaminated, as if he were carrying some deadly disease. The venom of Voldemort's snake might as well be running through his own veins. He was dangerous, unworthy. He suddenly wanted to shove Rowan away – far, far away from him, where he couldn't hurt her. But her grip remained tight.
"What's wrong with me?" he breathed. "I almost killed him! How can he be thanking me?" he asked desperately. Rowan stiffened and pulled away again. Without hesitation, she guided him down into a chair and then knelt in front of him, eyes burning into his face. Her hands took his, and he marveled at the strength in her small fingers.
"Harry, whatever you saw last night wasn't you. This connection you and Voldemort have – it doesn't express anything about you. You have to realize that it wasn't you," she said firmly. Harry looked at her fearfully.
"But how do you know? How do you know it won't happen again? What if he possesses me like he did with Quirrell? You all shouldn't be anywhere near me!" he argued desperately. Rowan's hands squeezed his almost painfully.
"Stop it," she said harshly. "You are not him, Harry. You're not!" she said, cutting off the angry look that overtook Harry's face. "You share a connection due to circumstances you have no control over, and in this case, we were incredibly lucky that you did! Arthur would have died if you hadn't seen into Voldemort. You saved his life!"
But Harry didn't feel comforted. He felt his eyes begin to burn. He tried to convince himself it was from the exhaustion – he hadn't slept, after all – but the moisture began to well up. He bowed his head, but Rowan saw through it. She reached up and thumbed away the couple of tears that had managed to escape.
"Then why? Why is this happening? How can I stop it?" he asked. Rowan brought a hand up to his head and combed her fingers through his hair soothingly.
"Dumbledore's planning special private lessons to help you combat it when you get back to school. It's going to be all right, Harry," she said. But Harry felt that anger well up again at the thought of the Headmaster.
"Dumbledore? How can he help me if he won't even fucking look at me!" he snarled. Rowan's lips tightened, but she didn't flinch away as he'd expected. Her hands stilled though.
"I can't promise that things will be easy," she murmured, "but you're going to be okay, Harry. No matter what happens, we're going to make it through together, okay?"
Harry wanted to agree. He wanted to wrap himself in Rowan's consoling words, her warm voice, but he knew that even she couldn't protect him from this. How could she protect him from himself? But she was trying so hard to be there for him, so determined to be strong for him, that he couldn't deny her. He nodded weakly, though everything in him felt as if it were sinking into his gut. She gave him a soft smile.
"Okay, let's head back," she said. He nodded again and stood steadily with her. She pulled him into another hug, which he returned half-heartedly. When they headed back into the corridor, Harry tried to hold onto his godmother's warmth that lingered in his arms and chest, but as he saw the gaping, horrified stares and the length of the Extendable Ears hanging out of the Weasleys' ears, he knew that they knew now as well. Shame hit him hard once more, and as they left St. Mungo's he couldn't meet any of their eyes.
III.
Rowan frowned as she stepped into 12 Grimmauld Place. There was a deep voice singing what sounded like "God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs" from deep within the house. She started down the hall carefully, getting closer and closer to the singing.
Rowan hadn't seen Harry for the past day, working hard through the last business day before the holidays. She tried to comfort herself with the fact that Sirius was there for him, but she knew that of all people, Sirius was not the most empathetic or warm. She could only hope that the two hadn't gotten into another row.
Despite Harry's silence, Rowan knew that her words had not comforted him. How could they? She couldn't imagine the horror he'd felt at realizing that he had been the one to attack Arthur – or at least, he'd felt as if he'd attacked Arthur. Dumbledore still refused to answer most of her questions, but if Occlumency lessons were in the future, Rowan knew that this connection Harry had was more severe than she'd anticipated.
Occlumency – it had never been her strong suit. She'd been passable by Moody's standards, but she had a propensity to think – to think and dwell and brood, which made any skilled Legilimens' attempts at prying into her thoughts easier than she'd like. Force of will could only get her so far.
Rowan grimaced. Harry was very much the same, she realized. Would he be able to master Occlumency, and with Snape, no less? It's a delicate type of magic, and though Snape was a master of subtlety, he was not a patient man, nor a kind one. Harry was certainly on the rasher side as well. Would he be able to withstand the vulnerability of having Snape enter his most intimate thoughts?
She shook herself – there was no use dwelling on what came after the holiday. For now, she just needed to make sure Harry enjoyed his time outside of the castle.
The source of the singing became apparent immediately as Rowan pushed into the drawing room. Sirius was standing atop an old hovering broomstick with a long chain of tinsel hanging from his shoulders, which he was pinning to the molding of the walls around the room. He was bellowing the silly Christmas song at the top of his lungs. The twins both wore enlarged Santa hats with their wands brandished, ornaments floating up onto the lopsided, tall tree. Rowan smiled amusedly as the two young men joined in Sirius' off-tune singing. The entire room seemed to be covered in decorations.
"I think you missed a spot," teased Rowan. All three jumped at the sound of her voice. She grinned as the twins galloped over to her.
"Ro-wan!" they sang.
"What do you think?"
"Pretty great, eh?"
"Give us your praise, woman!"
Rowan laughed. "Yes, yes, it's wonderful!" she said gleefully. She smiled as Sirius flew down to her but frowned as she saw the troubled look on his face.
"What's up?" she asked. He shot the twins a sideglance, waiting for them to go back to their decorating before looking back to Rowan.
"Harry's locked himself upstairs and hasn't been down since yesterday," he said lowly. Rowan's frown deepened.
"Not at all? Have you tried talking to him?" she asked. He nodded.
"I went up a couple of times, as did Ron, but he's been asleep all day, or at least pretending to be. I don't know what's happened. Do you?" he asked anxiously. Rowan grimaced, remembering the grief and anger in their godson's face the morning before.
"I have an idea," she said. "Is he still up there now?" Sirius nodded. She sighed.
"Okay, I'll go up and try to talk to him," she said.
"Should I come too?" she asked. Rowan shook her head.
"No, I can't imagine he'll want to talk to a lot of people right now. I'll try to get him to come down," she said. He nodded.
"Okay, just let me know," he said. Rowan waved and headed back for the hall.
As she started slowly up the stairs, she heard a few voices that weren't Harry's coming from the boys' room. She paused a few feet from the door and listened carefully. Relief hit her hard as she heard the sound of happy conversation. She distinctly heard Harry's voice. It sounded concerned, but not angry. She allowed herself to sigh with comfort.
Finally, the door opened, and Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and Harry filed out, all smiling and looking very relieved as well. They stopped with surprise at the sight of her.
"Winnie!" cried Ginny, rushing forward. Rowan smiled as she hugged the red-headed girl.
"Hey there, girlie," she said happily. She then looked up to the trio with a soft smile. Hermione and Ron looked greatly relieved, and Harry looked the most energized she'd seen him in months.
"Long time no see! When did you get here?" she asked. Hermione beamed.
"Just a few hours ago – I had to wait until the official end of term to leave," she said. Rowan nodded.
"Sticking around for Christmas?" she asked. Hermione nodded eagerly.
"Yes, are you?" Rowan nodded.
"I'll probably have to stop by my mother's house sometime to see the children, but otherwise, I should be here," she said. Hermione beamed.
"Are Gillian, Lionel, and Morgan joining us at all?" Ginny asked. Rowan shook her head.
"No, unlike you lot, I'm trying to keep them out of Order business until they're of age. Gillian and Morgan will likely join as soon as they graduate, but until then, I don't want them around here," she said. They all nodded in understanding. Sirius' bellowing voice sang out a particularly loud note, which echoed down the hall. The children grinned.
"Are they still decorating?" asked Ron. Rowan smiled.
"Yep. Looking pretty good too I reckon," she said. The teenagers all grinned and started down the stairs. Harry lagged behind to walk down with Rowan.
"How're you feeling?" she asked quietly. Harry offered a small smile.
"Much better. Sorry for worrying you," he said. Rowan smiled.
"What happened?" she asked. Harry grinned.
"Ginny," he said. Rowan raised a brow.
"What about her?" Harry shrugged.
"She yelled at me," he said. Rowan laughed.
"Maybe I should start doing that too then," she said. Harry cringed.
"Please don't. I don't think I can handle another hysterical woman in my life," he said grimly. "I've got enough with Ginny, Hermione, and Cho. If you were to-"
He paused, eyes widening with horror at his slip. Rowan grinned.
"Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker?" she asked. Harry looked up at her with surprise.
"How'd you know?" he asked. Rowan shrugged.
"I have my sources," she said vaguely. Harry glared.
"Who told you?" he asked. Rowan simply laughed and ran down the rest of the stairs. "Rowan!" he cried after her, but Rowan just laughed and sprinted for the drawing room, feeling much better about this Christmas.
IV.
Christmas Eve at 12 Grimmauld Place was surprisingly light and happy, despite the still grungy, moldy walls and occasional screaming from Mrs. Black. Rowan hadn't spent Christmas Eve away from the orphanage in many years, but even though she felt guilty about not seeing the children until Christmas morning, Rowan was excited to finally spend Christmas Eve with Sirius and Harry for the first time in many years.
As she enjoyed the grand dinner Molly had prepared for the attending Order members, Rowan realized that it had been fourteen years since the last time Sirius had been able to celebrate Christmas. The past two years of freedom hadn't allowed him to enjoy the holiday with any of his loved ones, and if it hadn't been for the attack on Arthur, he might not have gotten to this year either. Although Rowan didn't want to be grateful for Arthur's injury, she couldn't help but be happy to see her dear friend so thrilled.
Remus had even convinced Dumbledore to allow Lyall to celebrate at Headquarters as well. Rowan supposed it wasn't a great risk – after all, Lyall was just as much of a member as her mother or Alfred were, and no one was a trustworthy as Mr. Lupin. Rowan had watched happily as Harry and the elder Lupin were reintroduced.
But that ache had returned – as Rowan spoke with Remus throughout the night, that frustration began to well up more and more once again. It certainly didn't help that he'd become more physically affectionate with her – ever since that long night at St. Mungo's he'd been more liberal with his touches, and no matter how casual they might be, each graze of his hand upon her waist or back made her want to press herself against him until that ache was gone.
And so she'd spent the majority of the evening avoiding his gaze and doing a strange dance around the far corners of the room, just to stay away from him. She'd even insisted on helping Molly with dinner just to stay away from conversation with Remus. She wanted to catch up with Mina badly – they hadn't had much time to themselves at all over the past couple of months – but her self-preservation came first, didn't it?
Still, the evening passed happily with Christmas crackers and more singing from Sirius and the twins. Rowan sat contentedly in the quiet kitchen as the night drew to a close, drinking steadily from her bottle of butterbeer and allowing the momentary peace to seep into her. She let out a happy sigh as she sat back in her seat and listened to the gleeful shouts and laughter that came from the drawing room, imagining all the silly things Sirius was doing now.
"Rowan?"
Rowan looked up to see a pair of bright brown eyes peeking into the kitchen. Rowan smiled.
"Hi, Hermione," she said. "Need something?" Hermione shook her head and stepped in tentatively.
"Just some quiet," she said. Rowan nodded with understanding.
"Yeah, me too. They can be a bit much sometimes," she said. Hermione nodded.
"Mind if I join you?" she asked. Rowan gestured to the seat across from her.
"Please." Hermione took the seat quietly and sank into it with a thoughtful look.
"So… did Harry tell you about everything that's happened recently?" she asked. Rowan frowned.
"With what? Umbridge?" she asked. Hermione nodded.
"Yeah, a lot has happened, and I know you and Sirius haven't been able to write much to him much because she's been reading his mail," she said. Rowan nodded thoughtfully.
"Well, he stopped by the shop in November and told me about this new group of yours, and Fred and George told me how they all got banned from the team," she said. Hermione nodded, a frown forming on her lips as she seemed to think something over.
"What? Did something else happen since then?" she asked. Hermione shook her head quickly.
"No, no, I'm just thinking about Dumbledore's Army," she said quickly. Rowan frowned.
"Dumbledore's what?" Hermione smiled shyly.
"It's what we're calling the DADA group. It was Ginny's idea," she said. Rowan laughed softly.
"Clever," she said amusedly. Hermione beamed.
"So you approve of what we're doing?" she asked. Rowan sighed.
"I guess so. I told Harry that I wanted him to keep his head down, but it'd be unrealistic of me to expect you all to just take this quietly," she mused. Her lips twitched upward into a small smile. "How many sessions have you had so far? Did you find a place to practice?" Hermione smiled giddily.
"Yes! There's this incredible room on the Seventh Floor that turns into exactly what you need! It's an amazing bit of magic! It must have required a great amount of work from the founders to create it!" she said excitedly. Rowan nodded knowingly.
"Ah, the Room of Requirement – I should have thought to recommend that to you," she said. Hermione's eyes widened.
"You knew of it?" Rowan smirked.
"Of course I knew of it. I made good use of that room quite a bit when I was in school," she said cheekily.
"Doing what?" asked Hermione curiously. Rowan's smirk deepened.
"Dirty, unspeakable things," she said teasingly. Hermione blushed. Rowan sat back into her seat with a grin. "So what spells have you guys covered so far? Anything interesting?" Hermione nodded again eagerly.
"Yes, Reduction, Stunning, Disarming, Shield Charms – a whole lot of material!" she said giddily. Rowan smiled fondly. "Oh, and Patronus Charms!" she added. Rowan's eyebrows shot up.
"Really? That's some advanced charm work," she said. Hermione nodded.
"Yes, well, Harry thought it was important, which I can understand after all his run-ins with Dementors," she said. Rowan nodded.
"Yes, it's a very useful general form of protection. The Order uses it frequently as a method of communication as well," she said. Hermione's eyes widened with awe.
"I had no idea you could do that," she said. Rowan nodded.
"Another one of Dumbledore's innovations – really helpful, it is," she said. "I can't tell you how many times it saved us during the First War." Hermione nodded thoughtfully.
"So all of you can form a corporeal Patronus?" Rowan nodded.
"As far as I know," she said. "It's something that Moody and Dumbledore really stress that we practice regularly. You never know when you'll need it."
"Which ones have you seen?" she asked. Rowan paused, scouring her memories.
"Hmm, well Sirius' is a big dog, as to be expected, and McGonagall's is a cat. Mina has a fox, and the Weasleys both summon weasels. Lyall has an owl, I think, and Kingsley's is a lynx. I don't know if I've ever seen Moody's actually," she listed. "My master had an elephant, which was one of the more impressive ones I've seen." Hermione leaned forward with rapt interest.
"What about yours?" she asked. Rowan smiled softly.
"A wolf," she said simply. Hermione's eyes widened again.
"Is it because… because of Lupin?" she asked hesitantly. Rowan sighed.
"I really don't know to be honest. I was already pretty crazy about him when I summoned my first Patronus, so I can't be sure if it was because of my feelings for him or if it would've been a wolf even if I'd never met him," she mused. "My father's Fiendfyre spells took the form of wolves and lions, so it might just be genetics, after all, but I guess I'll never know now." She smiled at Hermione. "So? Have you been able to form one of your own yet?" Hermione frowned with frustration.
"No, not yet. Harry says it took him a long time to get it down, so we shouldn't be disheartened, but I just want to see my Patronus already," she pouted. Rowan laughed.
"I know it's hard to be patient, but I promise it'll be worth the wait once you see it for the first time," she said. Hermione smiled shyly.
"What was it like when you first saw yours?" she asked. Rowan thought back to that moment in Charms at the end of her Sixth Year. She'd nearly screamed with excitement when her silvery wolf had first appeared before her.
"As happy as the memory I'd used to conjure it," she said dreamily. Remus had swept her up excitedly, only letting go after Flitwick squeakily demanded that he release her. Rowan had been sure that it'd be a great source for another Patronus later on.
"Does Remus know about your Patronus?" Hermione asked. Rowan smiled crookedly.
"Of course," she said. Hermione frowned.
"And he doesn't say anything about it?" she asked. Rowan frowned thoughtfully.
"Well, I don't think he's seen it since meeting me again," she said. Hermione's face tightened.
"Do you still love him?" she asked bluntly. Rowan snorted.
"Going for the hard questions again, I see," she said. Hermione's face reddened a bit, but she seemed to stay resolute. Rowan sighed.
"I…" she started breathlessly. Her mind seemed to go blank at the question, eyes unfocusing dizzily. "Who knows at this point?" she said bitterly. Hermione looked at her strangely, and she sighed again. "I think everyone remains in love to an extent after that first great heartbreak, even if they move on or find love elsewhere." She smiled softly at Hermione, who frowned, obviously unable to empathize with this sentiment. She found it somewhat relieving.
"So is that a yes?" she asked. The corner of Rowan's mouth quirked upwards amusedly.
"I suppose so. Yes," she said. Her answer surprised even herself. It was the first time she'd admitted it out loud after so much time. She felt the realization smoke out from her lungs like a ghost.
"Do you think you'll ever be with someone again?" asked Hermione. Rowan considered it momentarily and smiled softly again at the second hard realization.
"I know you want me to say yes," she said, "but quite frankly, no. No, I don't think so." Hermione held her gaze searchingly, almost distraught.
"But why? I don't understand," she said. Rowan smiled wryly.
"No, I don't suppose you would, and I hope you never do," she said simply. Hermione looked like she could tear something apart with frustration. Rowan sighed. "Look, Hermione – sometimes love isn't so simple as just being together. There are always external circumstances, things beyond one's control that can poison a relationship, and sometimes some wounds don't heal, no matter how much time passes." Hermione's wide eyes scoured Rowan's face searchingly. She smiled encouragingly.
"I'm not trying to convince you that it's not worth it. It most certainly is, and I can tell you with near certainty that you won't experience anything like what I did. So don't look so glum," she added, reaching across the table to give Hermione's hand a squeeze.
"But it's just not fair. You, of all people- you should-" sputtered Hermione. Rowan smiled sadly. She was such a kind girl.
"Hey, I've got a lot more going for me than some stupid man, don't I?" she teased. Hermione looked up, red in the face.
"O-of course! I didn't mean to say- I mean-" she sputtered. Rowan laughed.
"I'm teasing you, girlie. Don't get so flustered," she said. Hermione's mouth twisted before pulling into a pout. Rowan smiled.
"Really, you don't need to feel sorry for me. So I got a little hurt. I moved on, and I have many more things in my life that are still just as, if not more, fulfilling. I've got my work, and I've got all of you. I've got more than enough that's worth fighting for," she said. Hermione nodded, smiling shyly at the implication that she was important to Rowan. "So don't worry about me. I'm big and ugly enough to take care of myself." Hermione giggled.
"Both of those adjectives are very inaccurate," she said. Rowan laughed.
"Okay, that's enough depressing talk for now. Let's get back to the party," she said, standing up steadily from the table. She floated her now empty bottle to the counter and looked back to Hermione with a smile. The girl beamed and then skipped towards the door but then recoiled as she opened it.
Rowan looked up with a frown to see Remus standing in the doorway looking very thoughtful.
"H-hi, Professor Lupin," Hermione squeaked. Remus gave her a soft smile.
"Hermione," he greeted simply. The girl looked back at Rowan frantically, eyes full of panic. She gave her a soft smile.
"Why don't you go on ahead? I'll catch up in a minute," she said. Hermione's mouth twisted with conflict. Rowan gave her a nod, and she finally drew herself up, fleeing from the room and down the hall. Rowan listened carefully for her footsteps to quiet before looking back up at Remus.
"How long have you been there?" she asked, already knowing the answer. His lips twitched upward slightly into an almost-smile.
"Long enough," he said quietly. She felt an ache in her chest, but she noted strangely that it was very slight. She simply gave a weak nod.
"I see." She looked around them vaguely. Something seemed to detach itself from her body with a breathy release. The house was still so grungy after all this time, wasn't it? It seemed they couldn't get the stains and mold out of its structure no matter how hard they tried. Perhaps some things were just too old and rotten to be fixed.
"Well, I'll be heading back," she said dumbly. Remus nodded but didn't stop her. She wasn't sure if she was disappointed or relieved.
The rest of the night passed casually enough, much to Rowan's relief. Remus returned to the drawing room not long after Rowan left him in the kitchen, hands full of butterbeers for the boys, apparently unfazed by the conversation he'd overheard in the kitchen. She felt his gaze on her a few times, but there were no more collisions, no more accidental exchanges. That strange detached sensation remained though - she could hardly register any of it at all.
Rowan left Headquarters late in the night with a deep sigh. The glowing moon above reflected blue and white off of the layer of snow that had fallen onto the quiet London street. Unrustled, unfettered – she knew she should feel humiliated, but the anxiety never came. Was that a good sign?
The chill of the late December night seeped into her bones soothingly, into her lungs and gut. She breathed deeply, eyes closed for a moment before looking back out onto the street. She took a step down the stoop, feeling the crunch of the pristine snow beneath her boots. She relished the sound.
Ruined – she'd ruined the smooth sparkling plane of white, and she might have ruined their newly smooth friendship, but she didn't care. She smiled softly to herself, hopping into a particularly deep pile of white powder. As it burst around her, she threw her head back and breathed deeply again, and with a pop, she Disapparated, gone like her peaceful Christmas Eve.