Chapter Thirty Two
(One pissed off Parkinson and a whole lotta luck—both good and bad)
Neville ran faster than he ever ran in his life, an unconscious Pansy cradled in his arms. She wasn't responding and her pulse had turned sluggish the moment she passed out but sluggish wasn't dead. Barely. It made Neville's only goal getting her to Susan's care as quickly as possible.
He didn't have time to think about how things might have been different. They could have gone after Pearl together all those months ago. He could have looked for Pansy a lot sooner. He could have followed his gut when it said there was something off about Lou, even if she seemed like Bobbi's sister. He could have parked his car somewhere a damn wolf wouldn't have busted it.
Could have, would have.
Now he could only focus on running. And watching the shadows for any movement. He never considered himself lucky. Not once in all his 30, nearly 31 years of life. Just the opposite actually. Unlucky in everything from school to work to love and life.
But that night, running through the dark wolf infested woods, Neville realized he was the luckiest man on earth. He didn't run across another living being for miles. He hit the road Marcus told him about after running for what felt like 20 hours and turned south not daring to think the asphalt made them safe.
He kept running through the dark, feet pounding against the street, before he came up on a small farm. The only light came from the house on the far side of the field, a bright flood light that illuminated the field of tall wheat grass. A rolling fog coming in with the dark of early morning.
His eyes went immediately to the old, rusted bedford truck parked next to the barn. He skirted the edge of darkness, running through the field in a wide arc before he came on from the opposite side of that barn, hiding himself from line of sight of the house. He set Pansy down in the grass as easily as he could, ignoring her unnatural stillness. Then he tried the driver's side door.
As far as inconspicuous vehicles went, the bedford wasn't even on the list. It would definitely get attention but if he made it out of here he would be happy to return it. If he could even get the thing started.
The door opened but as he expected, the rust bucket wouldn't be driving anywhere. There was nothing inside, no seats and no engine. Not wasting time, he shut the door quietly and made for the barn. Unlike the truck, the barn was kept in good condition. The door locked.
"I will come back and fix this," he promised before he attempted to push the door in—but then he heard it. Soft movement through the grass that had Neville holding his breath, searching to find the sound again.
Was it paranoia that had him imagining a wolf prowling through the dark, tall grass that surrounded them?
Moving slowly, trying not to draw anymore attention to himself than necessary, he came around behind Pansy and pulled her into the darkness between the barn and the woods beyond the house. "Please wake up," he whispered into her ear. "This isn't nearly as fun without you."
But she remained unconscious and unmoving.
Neville hopped back up and cautiously peered around the corner of the barn, looking to the grass. From between the tall blades of wheat that looked almost silvery in the dark came a snarling snout and razor sharp teeth. A wolf with pure gold eyes stalked gracefully into the clearing between the field and the barn, his fur a slick black and his limbs far thicker than that of an average wolf. He seemed more like a bear than a wolf in the body, but those teeth were unmistakably wolf.
They sat down on their back legs and peered directly in Neville's direction, despite the fact he stood completely in the darkness. But he wasn't surprised, Posy could see easily in pitch black. Something in the look of the wolf's eyes said it would be foolish for him to continue running.
So he stepped out into the light and prepared to fight, bunching his fists. The wolf stretched out and shook his fur before letting out a sharp bark that sounded... amused? Golden eyes peered directly into his and with a wolfy grin, they trotted off following the line of grass and disappeared into the dark without another word.
Neville waited to the count of ten, expecting a horde of wolves to suddenly descend on him. But none came.
He turned to the barn door and pushed in, making a hole in the wall where the door used to be. Maybe the owners had a newer truck to replace their once beloved bedford?
Nope. They had something far, far more outlandish than an old, rusty truck. But the keys were in the ignition and when he turned them, the engine purred to life.
He couldn't believe his luck.
oOo
On the 3rd Floor of St. Mungo's, Susan, Chip, and Connor stood together, watching carefully at the door of Hal's room. Per Susan and Draco's request, there would always be at least one Auror on duty at the Hospital due to the recent change in policy. Because Susan was unsure of what would happen to a werewolf on the Full Moon who was also in a coma, she asked specifically for Connor.
But also because Bobbi had softly mentioned to her earlier that she needed a few hours alone.
Her cousin was in the kind of agony Susan had only ever observed before. For one to lose their sibling? She couldn't imagine. If Bobbi said she needed a few hours alone, Susan would do what she could to make that happen.
She turned her attentions to Hal. No one knew his last name. And she wondered what he looked like before his face had been pummeled into mulch. If he remained human through the Moon, Susan was afraid he would never wake up. It meant his mind was far too gone to respond to the magic that would begin the metamorphosis. But if he turned, the chances of him coming out of his coma were very good. She hadn't said anything to Posy or Neville about it, because she didn't want to give them false hope. She would rather present them with straight news instead of maybe's and what-if's.
"1 minute, Healer Bones."
"Thank you Chip," she remained steady, watching over Hal for any sign he would begin the change. But as he had since Neville brought him to Mungo's he remained still, lying face up on his hospital bed. A bare face. They had to shave his beard to attend his wounds. No movement at all besides the steady rise and fall of his chest. No indication that he was about to contort and shift into a four legged beast with sharp teeth and claws.
"You gave him a wolfsbane potion earlier?" Connor asked for the second time. It wasn't that he was scared or didn't trust her abilities. He was just as distracted as they rest of them after Charlie's death and the attack on the Ministry. And no one knew for sure where the hell Neville had gone.
She explained to both Bobbi and Harry earlier that she did her best to convince him to go after Pansy, because what she knew about Faery collars had Susan extremely worried about the state of Pansy's mind. But then she had to admit she hadn't a clue where Pansy might've been.
The only clue they had was a hastily scribbled note in Nev's handwriting that said he had a lead and Ron saying he was asked to watch over Posy for the night-maybe longer. Nev said Vistain had her, but none of them knew where that could be.
It meant she couldn't focus on him right now, there was nothing she could do about it. What she could do was right in front of her. Watch over Hal, pray he transforms. Get him through the night whether he did or not.
"Of course," she answered Connor. "If he transforms, the change might be violent, but he should be clear of mind afterwards."
That was the best case scenario.
Under his breath Connor continued, "Do you know where Bobbi went?"
"You know her, she needs a few hours to process," Susan answered back in a small whisper. "It's been a rough few days."
"Don't have to tell me," Connor crossed his arms, leaning his head all the way back as he rested against the inner wall of the room. She counted to three and on the third Connor focused his attention back on Hal. "Let's do this, wolf."
Chip stirred as well, his watch chiming pleasantly. "Time."
Susan waited and the seconds kept counting by, one at a time as it always did. No movement from Hal. Not a twitch or a tremor to be seen. The three of them waited, watching without a word, all of them counting as seconds turned into minutes. Chip was the first to break. "Drats!" he called out, kicking at the door frame.
"Chip!" Susan reprimanded.
"Sorry, I was rooting for this guy Susie," he blew out a hard breath before walking down the hallway.
"He picked that up from you, you know?" Connor said, his voice growing ever more tired.
"What?" she asked, turning to him when she realized Chip was off to make rounds. He was her personal assistant but a healer was a healer. And they were all stressed.
"'Drats!'" Connor said, mimicking a high pitched voice. "I even caught him saying, 'Sweet Hufflepuff!' earlier. He got that from you, Susie B."
"Better than some of the language I hear coming out of you Aurors," Susan walked into Hal's room and took exactly one moment to wish things were different before she began hooking Hal up to the monitors. She had unhooked him earlier in preparation of the coming Moon. "Much better than Neville-"
Whip speed, Hal reached up and wrapped his fingers around her arm, his hold crushing. By the time Connor rushed over to help Hal blinked open his eyes. Wide saucers of wolf amber and full of fear. Nearly 15 minutes after he was supposed to transform.
And terrified. "Hal! You're fine, give in to the change!"
She tried to pull away, Connor trying to pry Hal's hand from her wrist. "Let her go!" Connor shouted.
"It's fine," Susan gasped even though it wasn't. Anymore pressure and her wrist would-
Crack!
"Oh Sweet Hufflepuff!" Susan screamed as her wrist broke. Hal's hold on her loosened but only because he began convulsing, his head jerking back and forth violently. "Connor! Hold him down! Now!"
"Your arm!"
"NOW."
Spittle flew from Hal's mouth as he continued to twitch back and forth and he finally let her go. Connor pinned Hal's shoulders but the wolf threw him off, rolling over onto the floor. The hospital bed fell the opposite way, mattress and bed frame separating mid air, and turned on it's side with a loud crash of noise. Hal tumbled over and knocked Susan off her feet. His big body steamrolling the room.
He began whimpering, arms flailing wildly. He knocked over the monitor stands and managed to swing Connor across the room. Hal rolled onto his belly, still convulsing and foaming from the mouth. Then up onto all fours.
"C'mon, Bones," Connor grabbed her from behind and dragged them from the room.
"He needs our help," Susan argued. It seemed like Hal wanted to change but something was stopping him. "He's hurting."
The whimpering turned into panicked yips that came deep from Hal's throat. He wasn't just hurting, he was scared too. But Connor dragged her from the room and into the hall despite Susan's attempts to crawl back in Hal's direction. Her old trainer put her against the opposite wall and slammed the door shut, shouting for Chip at the top of his lungs.
Susan wasted no time, left hand coming up to check her right wrist, using her thumb and forefinger to feel the bones before taking a deep breath. "Oh yeah, super broken," she looked up at Chip who skidded to a woefully clumsy stop right in front of her, kneeling down. "I'm fine. Secure the door."
From behind which came a loud crash of noise that sounded as if the bed was being pushed against the wall violently, followed by a long howl that sent shivers down her spine. It wasn't right, it wasn't wolf. But a human howl that turned into grunts and cries as Hal finally began to shift. They could hear his bones cracking, loud snaps that couldn't be pleasant. The poor guy had already been damaged beyond anything she'd seen before the shift. Susan couldn't imagine the kind of pain he was enduring right then just to transform. The change didn't heal physical wounds. It usually opened them up during the shift before settling once in the new form.
"Give in Hal!" Susan shouted through the door after jumping to her feet. There wasn't any other choice for him.
"You said you were fine!"
"Hold the fucking door!"
"I am fine."
"Not if he escapes mid-change!"
A crash. A bang. Something big slammed into the door and sent all three of them flying across the hall, but the door didn't break. They rushed back to brace against it but Hal didn't try to break through again. His raspy gasps for breath turned into a choking gack sound, as if he couldn't breathe. The sound so loud even the barrier of the door couldn't muffle it.
"Hal," Susan called once more through the door. "Don't fight it, you were in a coma and it delayed the change but you are alive. You can make it through this!"
They listened to the struggle on the other side of the door for far longer than it usually took for a wolf to transform. 10 minutes turned to 20 before the cracking of bones and Hal's obvious panic died down to soft, pain-filled whines.
"Open the door," Susan ordered. She'd be damned if she let Hal bleed to death on her watch.
But Connor didn't budge. "Might want to give it a few more minutes, Bones."
"Get out of my way, Connor. You aren't my trainer anymore, I'm the boss here," she reminded him with authority. And Hal needed attention ASAP. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder to show she meant he better get a move on.
"Fuck," Connor pushed off the door with a frustrated huff but Susan was already there, turning the knob.
Everything in the room, the bed, the stand, the monitors, chair for visitors, it had all been smashed to bits and pieces. All of it bloody, chewed on, or stomped to dust. And the biggest wolf any of them had ever seen lay in the middle of the destruction, snout buried in his paws as he whined.
Rich brown with soft gray undertones, Hal looked up when they entered the room. He sniffed once. Twice. Spots of blood on his snout and teeth. Back rounded, Hal rose up slowly until he straightened in a stand, blocking the ceiling light with his hugeness, his front arms long and lean with sharp claws that could shred. He stepped forward and Susan heard both Chip and Connor swear.
Hal must have been 9 feet tall when standing.
She held up her hands in surrender. "Hal, I gave you wolfsbane potion earlier. Do you understand me?"
Amber eyes darted between the three of them before a small nod.
"You've been in a coma for nearly two weeks now, nod if you understand me."
He did.
"I cannot let you out to run, you were too hurt physically when you came to the hospital. But no harm will come to you here. Nod if you understand?" She could stash him in her office. The couch would be just big enough.
He didn't nod, but he did come down on all fours. And then darted forward with more speed than she would have thought possible for something so large, bumping his snout into her broken wrist.
She hissed in pain, pulling her arm into herself. "Hey! Is that the thanks I get?"
Hal let out a long, low whine before going to bump her again. She didn't understand but apparently the others did.
"Susan! You said you were fine!" Connor shouted so loudly it startled her.
"Oh god, Susan!" Chip yelled at the same time.
"I am fine! It's just broken!" she argued. But when she looked down at her wrist, she spotted what the problem was. It wasn't that her wrist was broken.
There was a large bite mark halfway up her arm.
Oh drats.
Hal must've snagged her during his convulsions. "He was human when he bit me," she assured them, though it didn't seem to work. Then she looked down, though it wasn't that far, to Hal. "Listen to me, I'm fine. I need to know that you are in control of yourself right now before we let you out of this room."
From behind both her friends made sounds of disapproval but she remained steady. If she was infected then she wouldn't have to worry about it until next month. Hal needed her now. She took a deep breath waiting for a response and happily noted a spark of human intelligence in his wolf colored eyes.
After a tense minute he hunched down on all fours before collapsing completely, head bowed down in her direction. Yep, no wolf would ever cede authority to her. Hal was definitely in control.
"Follow me," she turned and tapped Chip on his shoulder. "Please get antibiotic cream and fresh bandages and take them to my office."
"No," Connor argued, his head shaking in anger. But when Susan went to argue he continued, "Don't let anyone see your arm. Cover it up first."
"Fine," she switched tactics. It'd be easier to boss them around if they were doing something they actually wanted to do. Like take care of her. "Connor will go get the supplies I need, Chip please get my robes from the back of my office door. Go now."
She turned around, making it obvious she expected her orders to be followed, and knelt down beside Hal coming to her knees. The wolf whined low before licking at her wound in apology. The amount of germs… but she couldn't think about that right now. She had been prepared with flex-bandages made specifically to stick to wolf fur without hindering their movement. And Hal had a lot of wounds.
She began wrapping him for the night. They would fall off harmlessly in the morning when he changed back, which made them perfect for a wolf as injured as Hal. "Stay still big guy," she said in a soothing tone as she worked. "I know it hurts."
Another whine.
"I'm sure you have a million questions, all of which I will answer to the best of my ability in the morning. For now, try to relax and don't move more than necessary."
Susan continued to wrap Hal's wounds, circling his torso until it was nearly completely covered and gathering a fair amount of blood on herself. Half way through, Chip returned with her robes and a frown. "Let me wrap your arm before you do that, Healer Bones."
His clipped professional tone made it clear he was more than unhappy with her. But this job wasn't tough for nothing. "It can wait, it's not bleeding."
Hal however was. And to Chip's credit he didn't argue, just knelt down beside her and helped bandage the remaining wounds. It took some doing and fierce concentration to get them all, wolf anatomy didn't line up with human. The same wounds the human sustained weren't the same on the wolf. But they got it done.
Susan patted Hal's nose gently. "Did I miss any?" she asked softly, though she knew she hadn't.
He rolled over, pushing himself in her lap, like a giant Dane who thought himself a lap dog. Once he was belly up he stretched his legs and let his tongue roll out. "Oh yeah," she felt herself smiling despite the stress. "Clearly near death."
"Can I wrap your arm now?" Chip asked in an even more clipped voice.
"Yep," Susan pushed Hal from her legs and came to a steady stand, her finger twirling through the air with a corralling motion. "Everyone to my office, let's go."
Susan took her long sleeved Healer's robes from Chip as he handed them to her, covering up her bloody blue dress slacks and the lighter blue blouse. And the massive bite mark on her arm she didn't want to think about. The robes were Healer Yellow in color and gave her the strength to leave the destroyed and bloody room to continue on her night.
Her shift should have ended hours ago.
Instead of going home though, she let Chip supervise as she tended to and dressed her bite mark within the privacy and comfort of her own office. It wasn't deep, the wound. It just broke through the skin but seemed all the more scary for it. When he was satisfied with her work, not that he would ever say so, Chip left her to deal with Hal and Connor. The latter brooded in the corner silently but Hal was in good spirits.
It took a few tries to get up on her office couch, his legs not quite strong enough to hoist his weight up but he managed it before passing out from sheer exhaustion. Susan wasn't surprised in the least, not after the energy he expended to transform. It usually took a few minutes to change. Maybe up to ten on some occasions. It had taken three times that for Hal to fully transform and Susan didn't envy him the headache that was likely to come with that kind of exhaustion on top of all his other wounds.
"Healer Bones?" And a knock.
"Awena," Susan acknowledged the Aide who had been with her the longest. "Can you gather a few and clean up Hal's room. Full disclosure, it's a downright disaster. Anything on the docket, give to Chip."
"Right away boss," Awena nodded once which sent her messy dark bangs swaying across her forehead before she turned in a circle and marched away with purpose.
The relief of having a staff again after being solo for so long made it easier to endure these long shifts. She fished out her stethoscope and began examining Hal.
"Old wolf is tough, you know he'll be fine, don't you?"
"We're about to know for sure."
"All you damn Fernard's are too stubborn for your own good, you know that?" he shouted in frustration.
"I'm a Bones, O'Donnell, and if you can't calm down get a replacement and go home," Susan kept her tone professional though the look she shot Connor certainly wasn't. What did he want? Her to baby him? She realized he wasn't exactly having the best day, and he always got moody when Bobbi was struggling and there was nothing he could do it fix it, but he was an Auror. He needed to keep his cool.
But whatever Connor was about to say drowned out when the entire building shook.
"Shit."-"Earthquake?"
"I'll check it out," Connor offered.
"No," Susan shook her head. "I need you here, with Hal. Pretty sure he'll be sleeping until tomorrow but just in case. Safety first."
"Take your own damn advice," Connor mumbled badly under his breath. She still heard it.
Brat.
Then she patted Hal gently on his snout and left the room in search for whatever caused her hospital to shake ad ignoring the put out look on Connor's tired face.
"Uhhh-" she finally got out when she made it down to the bottom floor where the receptionist was standing on her desk, hands over her mouth in complete shock. The entire desk had been shoved to the far wall and the front door had been caved in. By a rainbow and narwhal painted VW Bus with eyelashes on the headlights and a peace sign on the hood. Just behind the destruction and now dented vehicle, the early morning light peaked through and hit her eyes, making her suddenly feel tired and unsure.
Surely this was a dream?
"SUSAN!"
The shout chilled her to the bones, got her adrenaline pumping harder than it had all night. Real fear clawed at her throat and it rid her of any exhaustion she might've been feeling. Neville sounded panicked. Susan rushed over and pulled the side door in a hurry.
"Holy fuck," Susan whispered, losing her cool as Neville rushed out from the driver's side, shoving past her, and grabbing at Pansy. Her throat closed up and eyes went watery as she came to a complete stand still.
The woman lay passed out on the floor of the bus, drenched in blood, a hole in her side, a rib missing? The skin of her neck cracked and rubbed raw, a grayish tint turned black spreading out like an infection.
"Susie? Where? Susie?" Neville cried out desperately. It spurred her into action, spine snapping straight.
Neville right on her heels, she rushed up the stairs she'd just come down and into the first available room she spotted, screaming for Chip the entire time. The hysterics worked. Three Nurses Aides showed up followed by Chip not even a minute later.
Neville placed Pansy on the bed as Susan began cutting away the dirty, bloody fabric she assumed used to be clothing. Seeing his hands all busted up and bloody cradling Pansy's dirty face caused a bad twist in her stomach she didn't want to think about.
"Get her cleaned up," she directed her help to areas that needed immediate attention. Several pairs of hands went to work, tending to cuts and trying to plug the hole in Pansy's side. Chip appeared and joined them without breaking their stride. No magic meant they had to go Muggle.
And her screaming must have been loud enough to even reach the top floor because Draco rushed in only a minute later. Susan looked from him to Neville.
"Diamond?"
He shook his head, a bitter taste flooding his mouth.
So bad he trembled violently, buzzing with fight and failing to stay still. He'd driven so fast he wasn't sure how he managed it in that ridiculous bus, cutting corners at speeds that shocked even him. He felt as if he were still running, his body numb and shivering from all the energy he put out during the night. Wondering if some wolf was about to take him out. But he knew his time was up.
He still clung to Pansy's face, which had been horribly still for too long, and leaned in to put his mouth against her ear. "You better wake up, Parkinson. You hear me?"
"Get him out of here," Susie ordered.
He was so tense, his muscles felt like rocks, his heartbeat a drum in the back of his head. Sweat dripped down every inch of his skin but the howling hurt inside him told him he hadn't made it. She felt too cold, unmoving as a mountain when she usually danced like the wind. It'd been too long, a sinister voice whispered in his ear. He'd been too late and he failed to keep his promise to Posy.
"Longbottom," Malfoy said behind him. "This way, come now. Let the Healers work."
Afraid to let go, it took all of them to pry him away. His hands came away bloody and shaking and a keening sound he'd never heard before came from… somewhere. He turned to identify the source of the sound and found Malfoy holding his hands up as if taming a great beast.
"Mr. Longbottom, you need to calm down and let the Healers work," he repeated, his tone soothing.
The sound was coming from him. Wet streaks made down his cheeks and true panicked delirium caused him to tremble so bad he got dizzy.
He shoved past them all and stormed out into the hallway, collapsing into the far wall. He closed his eyes and opened again. Found he was in a different room. He jerked up, realizing he'd passed out from exhaustion. His hands were bandaged and he could feel the stitches in his cheek and brow, a cast on his wrist. His clothes were clean and his own, jeans and a long shirt, but an IV stuck in one arm. He tore at it and hopped to his feet, rushing from the room and calling for Susan.
It felt as if no time had passed, the panic still in full swing.
He shouldn't have fallen asleep. Rest he desperately needed, but he never slept anymore and the disorientation at not knowing what time it was or how long he was out was worse than being physically tired. Stumbling down the hallway, he spotted the room he put Pansy in and Connor, who stood directly by the door.
"LB! You've only been asleep for 30 minutes," he shouted, attempting to stop him from entering.
He shoved Connor far harder than he meant to, sending his friend stumbling across the hall. "Sorry—I just want—"
Neville stopped at Pansy's bed and looked down.
She was so pale. The dirt and fight cleaned away left her in nothing but her scars. So many more than she once had.
"Neville," Susan's voice sounded from behind him. "Let's talk."
"Talk then," he mumbled, his mind hazed and loopy. Posy called it Frog Thoughts. That feeling of being tired to the point where thoughts jumbled up and jumped around aimlessly.
"Better do it here, Susan," Harry said.
Neville hadn't noticed him sitting there in the corner, the chair facing the bed. The one where Pansy laid.
"Talk, Susan," Neville demanded.
"Sit, and I might," she threatened, pulling out a small backless chair on wheels. She also had a cast on her wrist but it was the other hand that lifted towards him.
He blinked and found himself sitting again, Susan checking his pulse and looking at her watch. His muscles felt harder than ever. As if he wore a metal suit beneath his skin. It made moving hard and when he brought a hand up, the one Susan didn't have a death grip on, to his opposite shoulder to try to rub away the tension, he found his body felt like stone. He couldn't rub in. His skin didn't move.
"Stay still, Nev," she warned. She sounded as if she were speaking to a child. "I didn't have time to check you. Just hook you up to fluids and pray you didn't have a heart attack and die."
"What's wrong with Pansy?" he bit out, not really caring about his own state at the moment. So his muscles hurt? What the fuck else was new?
He was pretty sure the Strength Potion combo with Pearl's Glim concoction had turned his muscles into something else entirely, but he couldn't stop staring at Pansy's unmoving face.
Couldn't stop waiting for her to open her eyes and start yelling at him.
He got the damn collar off from her neck. He got her away from Vistain. He got her to Susan. He killed and stole and committed countless crimes to do it. He needed to hear that it was enough.
"Connor, close the door."
Harry stood at his back. Susan stood in front of him.
She said, "Pansy's alive. She's breathing on her own. But that Faery Collar was on for too long and it's done irreversible damage to her brain. Even if I had magic, this is not something that can be fixed. Do you understand me?"
Neville dropped his hand into his lap and continued to watch Pansy's face. Even magic wouldn't be enough. Because he'd been too late. "You're telling me that I'll never get to talk to her again."
That was the worst part, he realized. No banter. No yelling matches that turn into fights. No chasing her through Diagon Alley, throwing taunts at one another.
No more wicked grins and bright eyes daring him to do the impossible.
Was 'Fuck you' the last thing he would ever say to her face?
"I gotta get Posy," he said, instead of crying. "How… how long?"
"Maybe a few days. Not long, Neville. But… She isn't hurting."
Neville stood and left without another word to his friends. Somehow he made it up two floors and to the Floo room in a haze. But no matter how much powder he threw into the flame it wouldn't ignite green. He turned and found Harry standing in the doorway with his keys out.
"I'll drive."
Harry made for a good friend. The hour long drive to Woolsey Way went by in silence, Harry didn't try to talk to him. Didn't ask what happened or how he was. By the time they pulled up in Neville's drive way the sun had fully risen and Neville hadn't a clue how to break the news to Posy.
And all Harry said was, "I'll stay here until you're ready."
Neville didn't feel anything as he lumbered around to the back and opened the gate. He found her curled up on the porch in her usual spot, a heavy knitted blanket covering all but the rat's nest that was her hair and a very human foot poking out the bottom end.
How was he supposed to face her when he failed monumentally, how did he explain he killed her mother? How was he supposed to explain to Posy she had to wake up to go say goodbye to her sister? That this was the last time either of them would see her.
Heart breaking all over again, he scooped down, ignoring the screaming pain of his muscles, and picked her up. "Little wolf."
She stirred slowly, head poking from the blanket. She yawned, her breath smelling ripe, bright indigo colored eyes making it hard for him to breathe. "Sleepy."
"I know, you gotta take a shower and get dressed though. We have to go to St. Mungo's."
"You found her?" she smiled, big and bright. All the trust in the world that he kept his promise. "I knew you would."
"I," he started, throat closing up. But he powered through, plucking a broken twig from her hair. "Get ready, Harry is going to drive us to St. Mungo's."
Her face fell between one second and the next. "If she were fine, you would have told me right away. She isn't fine, is she?"
He shook his head. "Posy, I don't know what to say. I have to tell you some things. We have time enough to say goodbye, but you have to get ready and come with me now."
"Goodbye?" she wiggled until he set her down, clutching at her blanket and dirt on her pale cheek. "I don't want to say goodbye, Nev."
"Me either," he knelt down in front of her. "But that's what we have to do."
"No!" she stomped her foot. "Is she or isn't she alive?"
"She's alive, Posy. But she's not awake and she isn't going to wake up." He said it as softly as he was capable. It still came out sounding like a growl. " She's not going to wake up. But we have something a lot of people don't get. We have a chance to say goodbye. Get dressed, get in the car, and I'll tell you everything that happened on the way to St. Mungo's."
She blinked, staring him down with a face he was all too familiar with. Classic Parkinson. Pissed off and determined to get her way. Her lip started working. "I'm not going!"
"Posy-"
"I'M NOT GOING!" she screeched, stomping away and clutching her blanket with feigned dignity. She slammed the backdoor hard enough the window next to it shattered.
"Posy!" he shouted, teeth gritting as he followed her. He stepped over the glass but ended up slamming the door just as hard as she had. It didn't do much good for his window. "I fucking mean it! GET READY!"
"I SAID. I AM NOT. GOING!" she screamed, stomping up the stairs.
Loud enough to wake Baby Rosie. Her tiny cries filled the air and Ron stepped into the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, rubbing his face. "S'all okay? Wha happened?"
"YOU BETTER BE STOMPING BECAUSE YOU'RE ON YOUR WAY TO GET READY YOUNG LADY!" Neville screamed at the stairs.
From up above he heard, quite clearly, "I'm stomping because I HATE YOU and I'M NOT. GOING!"
"Not okay then?" Ron ventured, giving him a blurry eye.
"No, not okay," Neville found himself shaking again, leaning against the stove. His muscles contracted with a wrenching pain. Maybe he was turning into stone for real. Maybe he would freeze in place. Why did the thought of turning into a statue give him an ounce of relief? Fuck.
He felt Ron place a helpful hand against his shoulder, resisted the urge to scream again. The touch hurt. A rough throbbing started in his wrist and above him Posy stormed back and forth in her room.
"What can I do mate?" Ron asked, again proving to Neville how great his friends were. They didn't demand an explanation or answers. Just offered their support.
"Go tend to Rosie, Ron. She… she… will be at Mungo's if you care to say your goodbyes." Though the idea of Ron showing up to wish Pansy Parkinson goodbye as she lay on her deathbed made him want to laugh and cry at the same time.
"WE ARE NOT GOING TO SAY GOODBYE!" came Posy's shout down the stairs.
If she wanted a screaming match, then ding ding. She was about to get one. He marched over to the bottom of the stairs and screamed so loud his voice cracked. "IF YOU AREN'T GOING TO GET READY I WILL COME UP THERE AND MAKE YOU GET READY!"
A shout of frustration before she stomped to the head of the stairs, still wrapped in her wolf blanket and twigs in her hair. Tears were swimming down her face and her lip was trembling harder than ever. "You promised," she accused. "You promised you would bring her home safe."
He did. And now he was just another asshole in Posy's life that broke a promise and put someone else before her. "Get dressed," he ordered. "Now."
Somehow his lowered voice seem to get through to her. She turned on her toe and walked away on softer feet, seeming all the more sad for it. A minute later and he heard the rush of water as her shower turned on.
Neville turned and caught Ron holding Baby Rosie, giving him a morose look that went with his damn morose mood. "Thank you for staying the night."
"'Course," his friend shrugged like it was no big deal. Ron settled the baby with expert coo's and Neville mindlessly made them all coffee while waiting. The numbness becoming an ache as more and more time passed.
"Floo's down," he informed as he refilled Ron's coffee.
"I'll get a ride from 'Mione."
"Okay."
Another round of coffee went by in the blink of an eye and Neville switched to water, hoping to soothe his muscles enough he could focus his attention on Posy.
He didn't blame her for the bad reaction. The morning after a Moon night was never the time to tell a werewolf bad news. He wished to God he didn't have bad news.
He kind of thought there would be more before the day's end, the way his body hurt.
"C'mon!" she shouted rudely, jerking him from his thoughts. "Let's go!"
"Thanks again, Ron," Neville said as they left. He followed Posy to Harry's car and climbed into the backseat with her.
She crossed her arms and pointedly looked away from him. "Hello, Mr. Potter," she said crisply.
"Hey Ms. Lovell," Harry grinned in his mirror. "Seat belts."
He didn't think someone could angrily put on a seat belt, but Posy proved him wrong. Afterwards she angled away from him and pouted for 15 minutes. Meanwhile Neville waited, stomach twisted up and sour. Eventually she sighed and looked over to him.
"What happened to your wrist?"
"Broken."
They looked at each other and Posy's face softened immediately, though he could tell she tried to resist. Resolute, his Little Wolf. Whatever else happened that day, Posy would handle it.
She said, "Start at the beginning."
oOo
Back at Mungo's, Susan itched the bandage over her arm and paced back and forth anxiously. Hal lay passed out on her couch, human again, re-bandaged, never having woken up despite her and Awena having basically shoved him around to get it all covered.
He snored lightly.
And Susan made herself smile for it. No more coma for Hal was the only good news she had that night… morning. She pulled the soft curtain aside and peered into the city. Late morning. Muggles in the street were out and about, heading to lunch and running errands. She wondered what they were worried about?
Bills and appointments and everyday, regular life concerns.
But smile or no, it was hard to forget about Charlie. Her sweet cousin who had been torn into by her own kind. This war seemed more and more senseless as the life lost kept mounting. She couldn't help but think of her other cousins. There were seven of them, six now... Bobbi was the oldest, the boss. Spencer, the gardener who worked at The Conservatory. Down to earth Lou, who was in Egypt the last year, working on bringing magic back to the world. The twins Jo and Benni, who were wicked and loud and owned their own bakery back home. And the baby Ray, who was in the States, trying to finish her schooling.
It brought a tear to her eye, thinking of her family.
Draco stepped in only minutes later and the itch from her bite increased tenfold. She hadn't told him. Only Connor and Chip knew so far, but if anyone else needed to know it was Draco. Because he would be the one to search for her replacement. As soon as the news got out about her bite, people like Emmanuel Winston would cause a big enough fuss it would come off badly for the hospital.
Which was the only thing that mattered to Susan. Even if she wasn't around to run it, she still wanted it to succeed.
Draco looked far more put together than he actually was. She spotted the signs he was struggling, the slight pinch in his jaw, the way he sat into the chair by her desk as if he were falling instead of sitting. She hated to add to his stress.
"Hal bit me," she told him, coming over to stand in front of him instead of hiding behind her desk like she really wanted.
Always, she wanted to hide from him.
Draco went completely still.
She rolled up her sleeve, feeling awkward. That arm had taken a beating between the bite mark and the broken wrist. She slowly pulled back the fresh bandage, showing the teeth marks in her freckled skin. He reached out and wrapped fingers gingerly around her upper arm, bringing the wound closer for his inspection.
"Human," he observed.
"Yes, happened before his transformation."
Draco's piercing blue gaze blinked up at her with a cool anger that did nothing to calm the heat coming from his touch. "This happened last night and you said nothing?"
"A lot happened last night," she reminded him softly. "This… I'm not sure what will happen. Only a werewolf can infect another human. Hal was human when I got bit."
"When he bit you," Draco stated.
"Long after he should have transformed already," she continued, ignoring his attitude. "My resignation is ready."
That pinch turned into a sneer. "You didn't have time to tell me you'd been bitten but you had time to type up your resignation?"
"Not at all. It's been ready for weeks." No power hungry wizards were going to catch her unawares. And they were swarming her life despite her best efforts.
"You know," he began, dropping her arm finally. "I really can't stand you."
Feeling both relieved and annoyed that he let go, she stepped back until she leaned against her desk, securing her bandage and rolling down her sleeve before she spoke. Trying not to let his words hurt her.
"There's no sense in worrying about this now. One there isn't anything I can do if I am infected, and two I might not even be infected at all. If I give you my resignation now and things don't work out like I hope, then at least you can say I gave it to you in a timely manner should anyone else come snooping around."
"You are thinking about the politics of this," he shook his head, exasperated. "Why didn't you tell me? Not as your partner, as… as…"
"As what, Draco?" she snapped without thinking.
They went motionless, unsure what the answer to that question could be. Then Hal snored quite loudly, startling both of them.
"Tory told me everything," Draco admitted after a tense second. He must have been really upset if he was talking about his wife. Then he added, "She... needed me."
The dead wife. The problem was Susan couldn't find it in herself to be angry at how much he missed Astoria. She had been there, at St. Mungo's when both her and Draco had come in the middle of the night, Astoria clutching at her abdomen in pain.
She wished she could snap her fingers and bring the dead woman back to life, erase the hurt left behind when she passed away. But Susan couldn't do that. And she wouldn't hold it against Draco for still loving the woman. Susan could only be true to herself, focus on herself.
"I could cry for about a week," she admitted to him, overwhelmed with the thought of it all. Her dead cousin, the worry for Neville and Posy, the bite in her arm, but more than anything it was the sheer audacity of what she asked of her staff that kept her up most nights.
The hours she made them work, the level of skill required—especially now that magic was so unreliable—all while The Ministry breathed down their necks and people like Emmanuel Winston watched their every move for even the smallest mistake. Who was she to demand so much from so many?
"But I don't need to be held while I do that," she informed him, shaking her head. There was a lot of work left to be done and no time to cry about it anyways. And she had to be there for Neville and Posy because there was nothing to be done about the state of Pansy's mind.
No magic Susan knew of could fix the psychological damage done by the constant erosion caused by the collar. No Muggle Method could even touch it. And in her experience, that was the worst news to give. That there was nothing she could do. Nothing she could even try.
But as she watched Draco's hostile glare turn somber, Susan realized there was another who would be just as affected by Pansy's death as Nev and little Posy. Somehow she forgot that Draco and Pansy had been true friends since school.
"But you do," she guessed, reaching forward to… what? Comfort him maybe.
It was the absolute wrong thing to say and do, though. He shut down completely, not wanting to show any more weaknesses in front of her. With a quick breath, he stood and reached behind her, grabbing the resignation. Then he tore it to pieces in front of her with cool, controlled movement. "I told you I would deal with Winston. And you should focus on your job instead of trying to leave it for someone else to attend to, Ms. Bones."
Susan snapped her mouth shut before she said something quite rude.
"She isn't dead yet," he said a moment later. "She's survived worse before."
It didn't sound like false hope, but Susan knew the facts. Pansy Parkinson was subjected to months and months of physical abuse while being magically coerced. Ironically, Susan thought if Pansy had been less willful there might have been less damage. But because Pansy likely fought the influence of the collar with her usual zeal, the collar had to work doubly hard to control her and caused more and more damage as it did.
She could fix Pansy's malnutrition, she could fix the damage done to her neck, she could fix the hole where her missing rib used to be. But even if she could use her wand, there wasn't anything Susan could do to fix Pansy's mind.
"I'm sorry, Draco," she told him gently. "But, just so you know, I have another copy of my resignation."
He went through such lengths to get St. Mungo's the money and backing it needed to reopen. A headache inducing feat if ever there was one. He was wealthy and driven. He wanted her in this position, it was a vote of confidence and she knew that.
But no power hungry wizards were going to catch her unawares, even if he were the power hungry wizard.
It was another kink in their disaster of a relationship. One they might have discussed had Chip not showed up at her door with a million tasks for her to do. They couldn't have it all, secret kisses and their job. Fact was, she would choose Mungo's over a man no matter how much she wanted to kiss him. No matter if he was the only one she ever felt the need to comfort.
She worked for hours, ignoring the itch on her arm and the one in her heart too. At some point Chip came around with a fresh set of clothing for her and she changed into the spare set of robes she kept in her office. But even Susan couldn't go on forever without sleep.
Once she was sure her staff was set, she slipped into Pansy's room not as a Healer, but as a friend and went straight to Neville where he sat in the corner. He looked beyond tired. His exhaustion was etched into every bit of him from his painful posture to the big bags under his eyes, jaw clenched tightly from stress as it so often was.
Harry stood guard and by Neville's feet was a huge but empty jug of water. She perched on the arm of Neville's chair and placed a hand on the back of his neck, which caused him to hiss in pain.
She didn't have to guess why. His muscles felt contracted and tighter than ever under her soft touch, as if his entire musculature was cramping. He needed rest and fluids but she knew right away nothing would tear him from this room. On the bed beside Pansy, Posy curled up, fast asleep. And the look on her face, even in sleep, broke Susan's heart.
So she did what she could and used her good hand to dig fingers into Neville's neck, attempting to ease the stiffness away and knowing it wouldn't be near enough to bring him any real comfort.
He tried to hold back his gasp of pain, his eyes even watering, but after a moment he leaned into her touch. Craggy face crumbling with relief, she worked on his neck for several minutes until she felt comfortable enough to tease him, to distract him.
"I'm quite cross with you," she said with a straight face.
"Get in line," he said, voice cracking with fatigue. "Quite a long one by now."
"You crashed a bus into my hospital," she reminded him. "I'll go to the front of that line, thank you very much."
"Ha," he said flatly. "Never thought I would do something like that, did you?"
Shaking her head, she tried to smile for him but a knock on the door distracted them both. Looking over, Susan spotted Bobbi and Connor walking in, greeting Harry quietly. And just behind them, Susan did a double take, was her cousin Lou. What on earth was she doing here?
Not a second passed before Susan felt Neville dart from his chair with speed that should have been impossible. He barreled through Bobbi and Connor, sending them both flying to the side, shoving Harry away right after, before he grabbed Lou around her neck and slammed her into the wall with enough force the wood bent and cracked outwards—the sound loud enough it hurt her ears.
But worse was the alien look on Neville's face, one of pure hatred as his grip tightened around Lou's throat. He was going to kill Lou!
Then everyone started screaming.
^_^ Such a light, easy going chapter huh? Got a few more just like it coming up!