Chapter Fourteen: The Carpal Tunnel of Love

Chapter title taken from the Fall Out Boy song.

"Your boyfriend didn't seem too happy to see you with me."

At half past noon, a purple interdepartmental memo fluttered onto Rosalind's desk, marked urgent:

Dear Officer Rosalind,

I had a strange visitor speak to me this morning. I am starting to remember more details but I need to speak with you right away.

Adriana Holmes

"What's that?" Draco looked over her shoulder, reading the note. He had become much more comfortable around her since their night on the rooftop.

"It's from the werewolf victim. She said she needs to talk to us," Rosalind replied. "When do you think we should head over?"

Draco glanced at his watch. "The sooner the better. I'll go notify Bowen and we can leave."

Moments later Draco nodded to her and she grabbed onto his arm tightly, holding her breath. With a faint pop they vanished, Apparating to St. Mungo's hospital.

The atmosphere was rushed and frazzled. Not even the Welcome Witch wasn't even smiling. Healers were being followed by anxious assistants, who were being harassed by even more anxious family members of patients. To the left were the stairs for the Creature Induced Injuries division and they headed to the first floor. A door with a paper nameplate reading A. Holmes was on their right, and seeing that the Head Healer was nowhere around, they walked in.

Adriana was unrecognizable: patches of hair were missing, her nails hardened into a decaying, ugly yellow, and her pretty face was pockmarked with scars-she was looking more like an animal. She recognized her visitors however and made an attempt at a small smile.

"Hello Adriana," Rosalind greeted kindly. "How are you feeling?"

She huffed out some air, moving a frazzled strand of hair from her face. "I would be lying if I said I felt good."

"What's wrong?" Rosalind asked as Draco opened his mouth. She stepped on his toe to keep him from saying something insensitive again.

"I don't really know honestly," she rubbed her forehead with a mangy hand. "I swear I had a visitor this morning but the Healers keep telling me I didn't and I was imagining things. But she was so clear and visible, I know I couldn't have possibly made it all up." She scrunched her face, thinking hard. "It was that same girl I saw at the village before I was attacked. She had long dirty blonde curly hair with a bow in it. She spoke in a soft voice, I feel like she was convincing me to do something. But then..." She furrowed her brow, struggling to recollect her thoughts. "Everything went white. I remember feeling lightheaded, like I was in a trance. Next thing I knew the Healer's assistants were telling me my body levels were through the roof as if I was under a lot of stress. I told them what happened but they insist no one was here."

Draco and Rosalind glanced at each other. He tightened his lips and bit his tongue, letting her control the situation.

"How long do you believe she was in here for?" she asked slowly. "Do you remember any other details, the time she was here, what she was wearing, specific words she could've said?"

"I'm not too sure..." She sighed. "Probably an hour before I wrote you. She looked like she hadn't changed her clothes for days, she said something about being able to help me but I told her no. Then everything went white."

Rosalind crossed her arms, stroking her chin. "Is it alright is I inspect you for a moment?" The young girl nodded. She approached her carefully, examining her head and torso. Her head was clean, but there was a faint scratch on the right side of her chest-signs of magic.

"Oh no," Rosalind said as she rubbed the area. Adriana winced in pain. "You've been hit with a faulty Memory Charm. Whoever did it either cracked under pressure or has never done it before."

"What makes you so sure?" Draco asked skeptically.

"I'm quite adept at Memory Charms," she answered darkly. "You always want to strike as close to the head as possible-the cerebrum to be exact, because the brain deals with memory. If you do it right the target won't remember the last half an hour of their lives or more."

Adriana's eyes widened. "I had my memory altered? But why?"

"You must have given her an unexpected answer, or maybe someone was coming into the room and she panicked," Rosalind replied. "Don't worry, it wasn't your fault, you have nothing to worry about," she added when her face paled in horror. "The Healers will take care of you." Draco left to speak with the Head Healer while Rosalind stayed behind to calm the girl down. "You did the right thing by asking us to talk to you," she reassured her. "Thank you for trusting us."

Adriana smiled half-heartedly, feeling slightly better. "Thank you for believing me. I was starting to think I was going mad."

Rosalind patted her shoulder. "You're not mad, you're perfectly fine." She smiled at the girl, departing with Draco upon the arrival of the Healers.

"That went better than I presumed it would," he admitted. "She seems to like you more than me."

"That's because I approach her better." Rosalind retorted. She felt a strange pulsing in her pocket, burning her sides. She rummaged through the small batch of coins she had, the Galleon Hermione gave her now had a message etched on the edges. It read that there was a meeting at the Burrow tonight at seven o'clock. Shit, she thought. She had almost forgotten she was now a member of the Order.

"You alright?" Malfoy asked when she remained quiet.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Want to stop by the cafe?" she asked to distract him. "I'm starving."

Draco nodded his approval and they headed to the top floor. It seemed that every floor was worse than the last. Misery trailed behind them like a parasite.

"What do you want?" he asked as they waited in line.

"I don't know, a sandwich probably," she said scanning the menu. Nothing seemed appetizing. They ordered their food as Rosalind went to grab them a table, not noticing the tall lanky man beside her. She bumped into him, almost spilling his tea.

"Oh drat," the young man said. "I didn't even see you there." He was tall enough to look straight over her head.

"George?" Rosalind asked with a laugh, giving him a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"One of my regular customers has come down with a case of dragon pox," he said lifting up a box of remedial tea. "I was stopping by to pay her a visit."

"Oh that's sweet of you," she said as he bowed his head.

Draco appeared by her side, food in hand. "Food's ready," he said setting it down at the only table for two. He glanced up at George, whose posture immediately stiffened. "What are you doing here, Weasley?" he sneered.

"That is none of your business Malfoy," he replied coldly. "I didn't expect to see you here either."

Draco sat down, waiting for Rosalind to join him. George stayed put, unhurried to leave. She could feel their glares piercing her, waiting for her next move.

"Well I hope she feels better," she said to George in a false cheery tone, slowly making her way to the table.

"Yeah, so do I." George's face stiffened. "See you tonight." He left without another word, leaving Rosalind feeling guilty.

She sat down, eating her food slowly and no longer hungry. "What was that about?" she finally asked.

"What was what about?" he replied nonchalantly.

"I could feel you both glaring daggers at each other."

Draco grinned. "Your boyfriend didn't seem too happy to see you with me."

"You weren't exactly welcoming," she observed.

"Neither were you, you basically asked him to leave," he said between sips of tea. Rosalind opened her mouth in annoyance before Draco continued. "And you already know the bloke doesn't like me so that didn't help."

Rosalind scrunched her face. "That's not true, we're working and I'm in work mode right now."

"Right." He took another sip, still smirking. "I wouldn't be surprised if he already told you he doesn't want you around me."

Rosalind crossed her arms, avoiding looking at Draco in the eye. "He didn't. He knows we work together."

"So that's why you acted so awkwardly before he left? Because he understands the situation?"

She scowled, annoyed that he was enjoying making her uncomfortable. "What's it matter to you? This doesn't affect you."

Draco grinned, setting down his tea cup. "What affects you does affect me. That's part of working together. And don't change the subject because you're upset I'm starting to be able to read you now."

Rosalind scowled. "Stop being a little shit head," she said with a half smile. "You don't know my life."

He laughed. "Please. I probably know more about you than he does."

Rosalind threw a crumpet at him, face reddening. "Can we stop talking about my personal life? We need to get you a girlfriend so I can start making fun of you too."

He laughed dryly. "Good luck with that one." He pulled some Galleons from his pocket to pay for their meals and they headed back to the Ministry.

Rosalind sat in her rickety desk, shoving all thoughts of what Draco had told her to the back of her head instead focusing on the conversation they had with Adriana. She wrote in her report almost verbatim what she had disclosed, including the bit when she concluded she had been hit with a faulty Memory Charm. The girl mentioned she felt like she was being asked to join something but apparently gave the wrong answer. She remembered how Draco hypothesized that certain people could be targeted, like Squibs, and laughing at how ridiculous it sounded at the time.

"Do we have access to the reports from other recent attacks?" she asked a busy Draco who was pouring over his own notes.

He looked up, removing the quill from his mouth. "Yes. Just go to the file room. You can find anything in there if you look hard enough. Why?"

"Because," Rosalind scooted closer to him and made sure no one else was around. "Remember when you said whoever is attacking these people could be targeting them for a reason?" Draco nodded. "What if they're looking for very specific people, like the poor or Squibs?"

Draco raised his eyebrow. "Are you saying werewolves are attacking Squibs to make them feel like they're part of the wizarding world?"

"Yes," Rosalind whispered. "And what if they helped that night we were in Azkaban?"

Draco looked unconvinced. "Death Eaters don't see werewolves as equals. They're not branded with the Dark Mark."

"But maybe someone else does," she pressed. "Maybe someone else is trying to send a message-and maybe that's why your father didn't escape."

Draco gave her a long, hard look. "You think my father stayed behind because he knew of a plan but didn't agree with its message?" His tone was harsh.

"Well...is it possible?" she asked hesitantly, hoping she hadn't crossed the line.

Draco pondered for a moment. "I suppose it could be. Unless he had another plan in mind."

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "Who knows." He ignored her, returning to writing his report.

Rosalind sighed, leaning back into her chair. She wished Draco was more enthusiastic about her theory but understood that speaking about his father was a touchy subject. She waited for him to start up another conversation but it never came, so she set off for the filing room by herself. A bored looking wizard was at the door, quill and parchment in hand.

"Can I help you?" he asked in a dry voice, peeking down her shirt.

Rosalind held her tongue and instead stiffened her posture, smiling innocently. "Yes can I please take a look at the reports for the recent creature attacks? It's urgent."

"I'm sure it's very urgent," he replied sarcastically, pushing the parchment towards her. "Write your name and badge number along with the files you're requesting."

"Well you see that's part of the problem," she said sweetly, positioning her chest closer to his face. "I don't know exactly when they're from." She fluttered her eyes at him. "Is there any way I can go back there for just five minutes? I promise I'll put them back."

The wizard eyed her with a thin brow. "You're not authorized to do so."

"C'mon," she leaned forward, inching her fingers closer to him. "I just need a few things." She drops her voice to a near whisper, touching his arm gently as he shakes his head, muttering about no authorization. "Imperio."

His eyes glaze over, a gleeful smile overcoming his face. "Please, help yourself."

Rosalind grinned and went to work, ignoring the pang of guilt in her chest. She thumbed through several files, pulling out photographs of gruesome scenes: several young men and women had their faces ripped off, wrecked to pieces with brute force. No, that wasn't what she was looking for. There was another file that contained a map of criminal activity in the last year. That could possibly be useful. Inside it contained a list of the wizards, witches and Muggles alike who had reported strange activity or sounds of an ambush in their area. Rosalind could hear the bored wizard coughing loudly, signaling that her time was up.

Draco glanced over her desk, inquiring look on his face. "What's that?"

"Research," she said simply, spreading the maps and photographs. Arrows squirmed around the edges of the pages, notes that others had left snaked their way around the border, begging to be read. It looked like whoever had last seen the file was on to something: Muggles were being attacked to be killed, yet wizards were being attacked to be kept alive. But the motive? Rosalind tapped her toe on the cold floor, scratching away at a roll of parchment beside her. There had to be a connection-she was onto something, but couldn't quite describe it.

Chairs screeched loudly and footsteps were heading to the hallway, signaling that their shift was over. She grunted as she attempted to copy and paste the information onto her own notes but there was an anti-duplication charm placed on it.

Draco snapped his notebook shut, tucking it neatly into a briefcase. "See you tomorrow, Morana. Take it easy with your little friend." He gave her a slight simper and departed.

Rosalind walked home alone, enjoying the crisp air and warm sunlight. She trotted through the cobbled street of Diagon Alley and Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, a small urge to step inside. George was obviously irked about what happened at St. Mungo's but it probably was best to not bother him at work. Maybe she could catch him early at the Burrow instead.

"Hello dearie you're early!" an enthusiastic Mrs. Weasley greeted her. "Come on in, Harry, Ron and Hermione are already here as well." She walked into the dining room where the Golden Trio were seated. "Go on, make yourself at home." She smiled warmly and left for the kitchen to finish dinner.

Hermione smiled and motioned for her to join them. Rosalind took a seat, smiling shyly, still intimidated by them. Harry and Ron gave her a friendly greeting before continuing their conversation about Quidditch. Ginny soon joined them and she and Hermione were the odd ones out.

"I've been meaning to ask you, how was your date with George?" Hermione asked as the others blabbed on.

"It was good," she answered honestly. "He took me to Hogwarts since someone informed him I've never been there before." She shot Hermione a playful look and she smiled knowingly. "It was a ton of fun and I really enjoyed it. We've been seeing each other a lot. He's a really sweet guy."

"So what's the problem?" she asked seeing her expression.

Rosalind shrugged. "There isn't. Well..." She looked around to make sure the others were still engaged in their own conversation. "He knows I work with Draco but he acts so weird about it. He told me he doesn't like him and doesn't want me to be friends with him. We ran into him today at St. Mungo's and I think it upset him I didn't really talk to him because I was already speaking with Draco about a patient we visited for one of our cases."

Hermione set her tea down, choosing her words carefully. "Well you do know why they don't like each other don't you? A Death Eater killed his twin brother."

"What? No I-he hasn't talked about him much actually," she said crestfallen.

"Well maybe you two should get to know each other a little more rather than just physically," she said as Rosalind's face flushed beet red.

"You're right," she said face still burning. "But it's not like I had a choice to work with him, we were assigned to each other. I guess I don't know why I feel guilty about it," she concluded.

Hermione smiled reassuringly. "I think he might have been a tad jealous he gets to spend so much time with you. You should talk to him, I'm sure he'll understand."

"I hope so," she said unconvinced.

A group of voices echoed by the door, and a flood of wizards took their places at the table. There were a few new faces, who Rosalind learned to be that of Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, and Dean Thomas. They gave her an amicable greeting, and Luna spoke to her about strange creatures called nargles.

"Good evening everyone," Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice boomed throughout the room, immediately bringing it into silence. "We have much to discuss tonight. There was a recent breach of security at Azkaban, as some of our fellow members witnessed firsthand. There are no leads as of yet as to who or what caused it, except that it was likely not human." He scanned the room, taking in the stoic reactions. "If anyone has any information or theories, don't hesitate to come forward." Murmurs erupted, and several members voiced their opinions. It couldn't be giants, the damage was not sufficient enough; the guards couldn't have helped either, they were all dead by the end of the night. An older witch argued that someone from the Ministry could have been involved but that was quickly shot down.

Rosalind cleared her throat, raising her hand. "I have a theory, sir." The Minister nodded, signaling her to speak. "I took some time today to look through several files of attacks in the area, particularly ones from magical creatures. The past few months upwards to the last year there has been a pattern of the poor, the sick and other groups normally considered weak that have been targeted. I don't think that was an accident." She looked around, waiting for someone to yell out her idea was stupid. "A victim in one of my cases was attacked by a werewolf and had a strange visitor at St. Mungo's today that appears to have asked her to join something. She doesn't remember exactly because she was hit with a Memory Charm, but she remembered enough information that she had a vague description of her visitor. She also happens to be a Squib, and I think that could have been the reason why she was targeted. She was selected in a way, to possibly join something that is trying to send a message."

The entire room eyed her suspiciously, causing her palms to sweat.

"And what message would that be?" the Minister asked.

"Well magical creatures are not very high up in the social hierarchy. Werewolves worked with Death Eaters before but were not seen as equals, they were never branded the Dark Mark. What if-what if there is a group that is fed up? Tired of being seen as second-class, as not human enough or too animal like?" She raised both hands in an attempt to get her point across more but was met with silence. She sighed. She shouldn't have said anything. No one cared about what she had to say-what was she thinking?

"What if they're working with the Death Eaters?" Dean Thomas piped in. "I don't think it's a coincidence that almost all of them escaped."

"Not all of them did there was one who didn't-"

"Malfoy probably ticked someone off so they left him in there!" Dean retorted. "He's probably the dodgiest out of all of them I wouldn't be surprised if he was planning another war!"

Kingsley Shacklebolt raised his hand and Rosalind bit back the remark she was going to throw at Dean. He thanked Rosalind for her contribution, and continued speaking to the Order. Rosalind crossed her arms, letting out an annoyed grunt. Why the hell did she open her mouth?

She barely ate, still annoyed that Dean kid completely shut her down in front of everyone. George hadn't spoken to her yet either. He sat by his older brother Percy, who he seemed to have nothing in common with.

Once dinner was over she helped Mrs. Weasley with the dishes and cleaned up the table, hoping George would talk to her. She hadn't seen him alone all night, even though he was clearly bored by whatever Percy was droning on about. He avoided every attempt at eye contact she made with him, as if he was still bothered. Once the chores were finished she said goodbye to the group, departing for the door. She had only taken a few steps when a longing voice spoke behind her.

"You didn't think I'd let you leave without saying goodbye did you?"

She scowled, facing him with a saddened expression on her face. "I didn't think you'd notice."

George frowned, taking a seat on the cobbled half wall. "I notice more than you realize."

"Like what?" she asked curiously.

"Like you don't think anyone takes you seriously."

She frowned, taking the seat next to him. "Perhaps you could be right." She twirled her thumbs, a nervous habit. "I guess I'm tired of feeling like my voice is never heard."

George smiled, wrapping his arms around her. "You shouldn't. You're a beautiful and smart witch with a lot of potential. I'm sure your family is very proud of you."

Rosalind's breath stiffened. "I'm not so sure about that." He gave her a concerned look. "I don't have a family George, they're all gone. My parents-they died. A few years ago. So other than my sister I don't have anyone."

He held her tightly, stroking her head. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I should've asked sooner." He looked sympathetic, his eyes brimming with tenderness.

"Don't be, it's not something I talk about often." She tensed her jaw. "But also no one asks."

Several moments pass where they don't say anything. She held his hand, leaning her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her forehead gently, wiping away a single tear. "I apologize about earlier today. I know I was being a git."

She smiled, glad he changed the subject. "It's alright. I know I didn't handle that too well. I was meaning to talk to you about that."

"About me acting like a git?" he asked playfully.

"No," she laughed. "About earlier at St. Mungo's. I thought you were mad at me."

George twisted his mouth, curling it into an awkward shape. "I wasn't mad, exactly." He hesitated, rubbing his nose in the process. "I was happy to see you but when I saw Malfoy there as well I sort of let this little green monster get the best of me. He doesn't come out very often."

"So what happened that made him come out?" she asked.

"Don't know. I suppose I like you more than I thought." He rubbed her head, pulling her closer. "I haven't felt like that in a long time."

Rosalind could feel her face flushing. George seemed to have a knack of doing that to her. "Like what?" she pried, eager for more.

He shrugged. "Infatuated? Enamored?" He smirked, looking down at the grass sheepishly. "I don't know what the exact word is. All I know is that when I'm around you I feel whole again, like no one else is around."

Rosalind's heart swelled. "So do I," she said in a low voice.

"I mean it." He kissed her lips adoringly. "But don't let that get to your head, I know you like me too." He winked, sending shivers down her spine.

"So what if I do?" she teased. "Whatcha going to do about that?"

"I'm going to make you mine," he said confidently, looking straight into her auburn eyes. "Someday." He cupped her face and kissed her again. "I know you're not ready for a relationship and I'm not sure if I am either, but I'm willing to try if you are."

Her stomach lurched, her mind racing for the right words. She averted her eyes, fixing them at the garden gnomes tip-toeing around the yard. "I'm not sure I'm quite ready for that yet," she whispered. "I really love what we're doing now, how we're taking it slow." She shifted her body to his, staring into his eyes. "I love spending time with you George, you make me really happy, there's just a lot of my life that you don't know about and I'm not sure if you would accept it."

He leaned his head away from hers, taking a moment to answer. "We don't have to talk about the past. Not if you don't want to. I'll tell you anything you ask me as long as you do the same. We can take this as slow as you'd like. I need my own time to heal as well."

Rosalind smiled, glad that he was so understanding. "I think that's a good start."

He grinned, pulling her into a deep kiss. "I was hoping you'd say that." He held her hand proudly, kissing the top of it. "Now get over here." He held her in his arms, happier than they both had been in ages.

So Rosalind and George's relationship is somewhat established, but since they're not technically together there's room for drama (dundundun!). The next chapter is one of my absolute favorites because it was so much fun to write. A few familiar and new faces are coming up :) Next chapter: Dance, Dance.