12
IT was horrible. Norah could not recollect the last time she'd seen an uproar of this caliber, the most recent example she could force herself to think of was but a few precious hours ago when Father had trashed the Malfoys' study after learning that her uncle, his brother, Bryce, was dead.
The argument between the two partners and Brennan was heated, insults being flung about by her partner in his rage without so much as a care in the world.
And the shouting. Merlin's Beard, the shouting.
A quick glance to her immediate left at the other werewolf in the Order, Remus Lupin, she thought his name was if her memory of her conversation with Dumbledore served her correctly, was bothered by it too, as their wolfish hearing was still coming down off the latest full moon. He flinched in discomfort.
The sheer volume of Brennan's hoarse, raised voice as he and the pink-haired witch continued to argue amongst one another, was enough to give Norah the beginnings of a splitting headache that threatened to crack her skull wide the hell open.
The only thing Brennan hadn't resorted to yet was violence of the physical kind, either the magical way or the Muggle way against the two currently trying to calm him down over the devastating news of the man's father's death, or devasting in his mind, at least, though Norah swore she saw no hint of compassion or sadness in the man's crystalline eyes.
Enough. This has gone on bloody far enough.
Merlin's left buttock, but she was going to hate this. Norah closed her eyes tightly for a moment, taking a long, deep breath to calm down her temper.
"Stop!" Norah protested, bounding forward, and allowing herself to forsake her natural timidity and shyness towards her new partner for the time being, for they would do her no good here.
Norah cringed as she placed her hands squarely against Brennan's chest in the attempt to separate the volatile man from the other two, Lupin and Tonks before things escalated and got wildly out of control and wands were drawn, and then she'd really be in trouble.
"Stop!" she screamed, cringing at how weak her voice sounded, but still desperate to make her voice heard. "This—this is enough, Brennan!" she shouted.
Norah knew from the instant her words left her mouth that they had hit their mark, the moment Brennan opened his mouth to argue, but faltered in his movements when she hesitated, and put a small, pale hand on his shoulder and gripped him tightly.
She flinched, but only because Brennan did so the moment that she set a hand on him, and it was then that the dawning realization struck Norah Jameson immediately, as though she had been hit squarely in the chest with a well-aimed, solid Knockback Jinx.
He thought she was going to hurt him. His body stiffened and Norah's wolfish hearing perked up at the sound of hearing the dark-haired man let out a barely audible hiss, though she and Lupin heard it.
Ollie staggered backward, jerking his shoulder away from Norah's hand as though the very feel of her hand upon his had burned his skin hotter than an Incendio Charm.
For a moment, she felt insulted. His cold gaze was fixed upon her, completely impassive and unreadable. Norah huffed in agitation. She recognized this look.
He was a Legilimens and skilled in Occlumency, just like Norah was.
Seeing him up close and personal like this, now that there was slightly better lighting down here in the living room parlor than there had been in the upstairs bedroom she'd woken and found herself in, Brennan seemed a more solid figure than before.
Except for his listless, cold blue eyes. Those hadn't changed, though Norah swore she caught the flickering of something unreadable dart in his eyes.
His cold gaze soon shifted, however, towards the other werewolf and his mate, who had cautiously stepped forward, as if they meant to protect Norah.
Brennan's expression turned positively murderous as he began to stalk towards the pink-haired witch, though he faltered in indecision when Norah steeled herself and planted her feet firmly between them. If he wanted to get to that woman, then her new partner would have to go through her.
Norah could not immediately explain it, but she could tell the witch and her mate meant her no harm, judging by the sympathetic glances Lupin and the other woman were shooting her.
She silently shot the pair of them what she hoped was a grateful look with her eyes, trying to thank them for attempting to intervene on her behalf, but that it wasn't necessary.
They must have gotten the message of whatever silent meaning Brennan was trying to convey. Perhaps the man was using his skill of impossible telepathy as a Legilimens to communicate with the pair.
For Lupin shot Brennan an admonishing look, though he placed one arm around the woman's shoulder and began to steer her in the direction of the doorway, heading towards the kitchens, though not before pausing and casting one last glance towards Norah, a strangely sympathetic look in his eyes.
Norah dug into the man's mind and was utterly stupefied to learn Brennan was solely responsible for saving her life tonight. Lupin offered a slight incline of his head, confirming her worst suspicions and fears. She felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach, but before she could open her mouth to speak, Lupin interjected, preventing her from speaking.
"Miss, ah… forgive me, but I don't know your name?" he questioned, his quiet tone polite but apologetic.
Something Norah could appreciate considering the tense atmosphere of this room.
"Jameson, Mr. Lupin. Norah Jameson," Norah announced in what she hoped was a kind voice, though she flinched at hearing the faltering dip and crack in her tones, paying Brennan behind her no mind, and keeping her gaze fixated on Remus Lupin.
"Please. Call me Remus, Miss Jameson. I prefer it. May I call you Norah?" Lupin asked courteously, offering the young blonde witch a kind smile when she returned the gesture and inclined her head in agreement.
She swore she felt Brennan bristle behind her, but she paid the man no mind at all.
Lupin furrowed his brows in a slight frown, having sensed the man's shift in countenance, but, like Norah, chose not to address it, sensing Jameson wanted to deal with Brennan's abhorrent behavior and hash things out with her new partner on her terms. A trait that he respected and admired in her.
Anyone in Lupin's mind who could hold their own against the likes of Augustus Rookwood would surely prove an invaluable member and asset to the Order, and Remus strived to do what he could to make Norah feel welcome, hoping Tonks would, too.
"If you are feeling up to it, following your…conversation," he answered in a clipped tone, the shift in his voice directed towards Brennan as he fixed the man with a rather pointed glower, "Mrs. Weasley is hosting a dinner in the kitchens. My partner, Tonks and I," Here, he shot the pink-haired witch standing beside him an affectionate smile, "would love for you to come and meet the others."
"Th—thank you, Mr. Lupin," Norah stammered, swallowing down hard past the lump in her throat.
The pink-haired witch took a cautious half-step forward towards Norah and ducked underneath Lupin's arm and shot Norah a kind smile that the young blonde werewolf didn't know what to make of.
"We're glad to have you in the Order, Miss Jameson. Merlin knows I could use a woman my own age to converse with around here," the woman called Tonks muttered politely in a low voice. "The first few weeks when you're new are the toughest, so if there's anything you need from either me or Remus," she jerked her head towards Lupin in an affectionate way, "please don't hesitate to ask and we'll do what we can to ensure you're comfortable here. And Ollie will too, won't you, Ollie? She's your partner, after all!" Tonks added in a cold tone, shooting Brennan a truly venomous glower that Norah did not bother to turn around to gauge the man's reaction, but if she had to hazard a guess, he was probably not taking this criticism well at all.
"Yes," Brennan answered in a hardened tone, the edges around his voice rough, which caused the fine hairs on the back of Norah's neck to stand upright, as his tone did not suggest he particularly wanted to.
Norah stiffened and bit down on her bottom lip. She was not at all looking forward to the conversation she was about to have with the man, but if it was going to be the only way to mend things and get the man to calm the hell down, then so be it.
Tonks continued, either oblivious to Norah's growing discomfort or, she was choosing to ignore it. Probably the latter if the werewolf had to guess.
"If there's anything you need, Jameson, anything you want to talk about, you can always come to me. I like to hope that in time, you and I can be friends. I want to support you, given your…special circumstances," Tonks murmured in a dark, somber voice, her grey eyes clouding over momentarily, and Norah could tell the slightly older witch was thinking of how Rookwood had attacked her earlier tonight, and perhaps of her lycanthropy.
Norah had to figure most if not all of the Order members would know of her condition by the end of tonight, considering how fantastically awful this bloody night had gone so far.
"Oh," Norah squeaked, unable to form an adequate response right off the bat. She simply gaped at Lupin and Tonks, who stood in the doorway of the living room parlor looking at the young blonde witch with such a sympathetic and kind expression, their eyes jointly filled with unusual tenderness.
In truth, she'd not expected anyone in the Order of the Phoenix to be so kind, not after hearing rumors of what some of the members did to Greyback's people.
But Norah felt moved by Tonks's generosity at perhaps becoming like a friend to her.
Impoliteness, brazenness, rudeness, all of the character qualities that Brennan stupidly possessed within his personality, and she would deal with in a moment, these were things that she could easily handle, growing up with Greyback for a father.
However, in her current state of unease and general vulnerability, considering the hell of a night she'd had, the kindness that came from these two standing in front of her felt like a stab to her heart. Norah could feel her eyes starting to tear up.
"Um, thank you, Tonks a—and Lupin, for your kind words and concern for my well-being. I'll take them into consideration, but I'm sure I'll be fine," she answered, perhaps a little too coldly than she really would have liked, saving the worst of her hostility she was about to unleash on Brennan in a moment once the two of them were alone, before ducking her head so neither of them would start to see her tears.
Lupin nodded his agreement, gripping onto Tonks's shoulder, sensing Jameson's growing discomfort and recognizing the two new partners needed a moment alone to hash things out.
"Of course, Miss Jameson," he answered warmly. "Well, if you get hungry, Molly always makes plenty of extra food. Tonks and I will save you a plate if you're interested," he offered kindly, not blaming Norah at all for not knowing how to react to their offer or seeming to give off a rather cold response and hostile vibe in response, though Remus attributed that to Ollie's behavior towards her, and in general, for right now.
"Thank you, I—I would like that very much. We'll be along shortly," she muttered, still actively averting Lupin and Tonks' gazes as she struggled to reign in control of her tears, refusing to let Brennan see it.
She was not about to give her new partner the satisfaction of seeing just how much he was getting underneath her skin and making it utterly crawl.
"Of course," replied Lupin warmly, dipping his head towards Norah as a show of friendship and respect. "Whenever you two are ready, we'll save you a plate," he said quietly, giving Tonks's shoulder a light, reassuring squeeze, casting one more slightly distrustful and admonishing glance towards Ollie over his shoulder as he steered Tonks out of the living room parlor and allowing the man and his new partner a moment to hash things out in private.
Norah watched Lupin and Tonks leave, not bothering to turn around until she watched their figures round the corner of the entryway of the parlor, and their footsteps had faded to nothingness as the pair made their way towards the kitchens, which sounded like it was bustling with activity.
Norah slowly swiveled her head back around to regard her new partner, feeling a muscle move in her jaw as she fought against the desire to say something to Brennan that would really put his current behavior to shame and shut the man up for the night.
For a moment, she wished that she could, but considering this was her first night as an Order member, Norah did not want to cause any more harm than she already had, and for that, her temper would remain spent, and she would not cry in front of him.
She inhaled a deep, shaking breath and began, nervously fidgeting with her fingers, weaving her knuckles in between her white-boned fingers.
"Brennan," she began, her tone firm but respectable enough (she hoped it was, at least!) and Norah forced herself to fight down the warbling crack and kept her voice strong but contrite. "I think I owe you an apology for…for earlier," she stammered. "I endangered your lives and Mr. Lupin's tonight when you…saved me from Augustus Rookwood," she whisper hissed through gritted teeth, turning her head sharply to the left and squeezing her eyes shut to avoid looking the man in his narrowed blue eyes.
"That's an understatement, Jameson," he barked hoarsely. He proceeded to glower at her with icy blue eyes currently only showing one emotion: pure rage.
Anger began to bubble to the surface once more, bristling within Norah's chest as a fiery heat at the man's careless and heartless words, but she tampered it back down, refusing to let Brennan see.
Norah swallowed thickly and continued her piece, even though a dozen or so angry retorts flitted to the forefront of her mind, just begging to spat from her tongue in poisonous venom, but she needed to be the bigger person and apologize to the man, knowing full well Dumbledore was right.
The only way their partnership was going to work was if they both made amends, and Jameson had correctly assumed that it wasn't going to be Brennan to take the initiative and make the first step towards reconciliation, or at the very least, an understanding.
"Whatever," she growled, baring her sharpened canines. "I'm trying to apologize to you, the least you can do is hear me out and listen for a change, if you're even capable of that, Brennan," Norah hissed, hardening her own tone until it was clipped and curt in response to Brennan's aggression. "I do owe you an apology, despite the way you behaved towards me tonight, and if you ask me, you should apologize to me first."
Watching the man's already pale face lighten a shade as his lips parted open in shock and outrage was almost worth it and gave Norah a sick satisfying feeling in the pit of her churning stomach, though she continued speaking before he could interject.
"I endangered your life and Lupin's tonight as well. I was self-centered and selfish in thinking I could take on a Death Eater without any help. I'm sorry. I am."
Ollie froze, wondering if he'd heard the young blonde werewolf correctly. He lifted his gaze slightly to better look Jameson in the eyes, thinking his new partner certainly looked apologetic.
Not just her expression, but everything else as a whole as well. The bruised brow, her bandaged hand, her ankle, all of them combined together painted a truly pitiable picture of a young witch and werewolf who did not understand the way the rest of the world worked and had learned a lesson the hard way around.
Ollie thought it truly saddening that Jameson was forced to learn it this way. And painful.
Though, Jameson wouldn't soon forget it and that, to his mind, was a comfort, at the very least.
Ollie squeezed his eyes tightly shut, letting out a shaking breath. It made him so utterly furious to think what Rookwood would have done to the woman, hurting her, torturing her, and with absolutely no other reason for it other than to see the poor girl suffer.
He slowly opened his eyes, not wanting to allow his anger to get the better of him, as it had several times tonight, though he felt it was futile. In fact, he was quite furious.
Not necessarily at Jameson, though the prickly young blonde had already proven she had a tendency to get under his skin, but at Rookwood who'd needlessly hurt her.
He wanted to reach out his hand and offer some form of physical comfort to his new partner to the terrified, trembling creature before him, but in no way did he want to scare the werewolf further, so Ollie maintained a respectful distance and spoke softly, careful to keep his voice low and quite even.
Nevertheless, his meditation was not enough to keep the anger bottled within him from seeping unbidden to the surface. Ollie glared at Brennan.
"If you ever," he growled angrily, jabbing a finger at her uninjured shoulder, "ever do something so stupid like that again, next time, the only help you'll get is from Merlin, Jameson! Not me! What were you thinking, wandering around the street at night?"
"It won't happen again, Brennan," Norah insisted desperately, not breaking eye contact for even a moment, though something unreadable, an emotion Ollie could not quite name, flickered through her pale grey-blue orbs, rendering him captive for a moment. "I swear it. I can give you my word."
Norah drew in a sharp breath that pained her bruised lungs and waited for the man to speak, hoping that he would, at a minimum, accept her apology. She heard the man let out a defeated sigh.
"See to it that you don't. I don't want to have to save you for a second time. You've already proven to be more trouble than you're worth at all," he growled in a rough, grating voice. Norah resisted the urge to growl in frustration, though she supposed that was as close to an acceptance of her apology as she was going to get. "You've done more than enough, Miss Jameson. Let me see your hand," he snapped, lowering his gaze where his piercing blue eyes settled on her bandages, which had started to come unraveled and fresh blood seeped through.
Norah shirked back and recoiled as the man advanced on her, like a panther stalking its prey.
"No, it's—th—that's not necessary. Besides, it's not as bad as it looks," Norah offhandedly. "You—"
Though before she could turn on the heel of her black boot to make a beeline for the upstairs spare bedroom to change her bandages before coming back downstairs to the kitchens to join the rest of the Order for the supper in the kitchens, she felt a strong, slightly calloused hand grip her shoulder.
Norah froze, her body instinctively stiffening and recoiling at the gesture, though she made no move to pull away.
She'd had enough of strange wizards touching her for one night, thank you very much! Norah pivoted at the waist and stood there in shock and surprise, not sure how to place the current expression Brennan wore. It was a mixture of concern, fear, and something else she could not place.
"Brennan, let go of my arm," Norah growled, suddenly feeling breathless for some strange reason.
The young witch was corrupted with fear towards the sudden shift in the volatile man's temperament, how he'd been screaming and yelling at Lupin and Tonks over the news of his father's death not even five minutes ago, and now was tending to her wrist delicately, almost like a friend or lover would help.
Though his movements, Norah could still smell the hesitation that reeked out from the man's gestures, the little furtive glances that he shot Norah.
Ollie ignored her command, not relinquishing his hold on the small appendage as he deftly began to unravel the bandage and examine her wrist tenderly.
Her new partner gazed down at it as if he found it to be the most interesting thing in the whole world. He even took a second to run his thumb over a scar just above her first knuckle.
"Does it hurt?" he asked in a much more subdued voice than before, which Norah thought strange, but had no time to question it. "Rookwood, that man, he almost killed you," he growled, turning his gaze away as he waved his wand and conjured a roll of fresh gauze, and began to re-wrap her bindings around Norah's hand.
Norah hesitated and looked down at her wrist for a moment, considering it.
"I don't think it's broken, but it does hurt, especially when I move it around. I thought earlier Rookwood might have broken it, but it looks better than it feels, Brennan, so let it alone. I think my shoulder might be dislocated though," Norah added with an afterthought, as though that little injury the St. Mungo's Healer had missed and overlooked was information barely worth mentioning.
Ollie blinked owlishly at this strange young creature, wondering how she could be so calm and blasé about an injury that was causing Jameson pain.
It was disconcerting to him, troubling how Jameson's level of concern for her own well-being was so rapidly deleting, like she didn't even care.
"You're lucky he didn't kill you, Jameson!" he snarled through gritted teeth, his temper swelling to the surface as for some reason, visions of Jack's face, Father, flitted through the forefront of his mind. "How the hell can you be so calm about this?!"
His head snapped up so fast that Norah had to move her head back to avoid connecting with his.
He did not shout, but Brennan seemed so shocked, so confused by the casual manner of her response. Norah stared at him, hardly daring to believe her wolfish hearing.
So, that was the root of his aggression. Brennan was…worried about her, then?
Norah sighed softly, not sure she was ready to talk about it, and in truth, Norah really wasn't at all. She had been terrified under that streetlight, the event as a whole had been terrifying. It seemed like it had taken an eternity for Lupin to reach her earlier.
"Well, he probably would have, if given more time. I was lucky Lupin showed up when he did," Norah sighed, not noticing the darkening, cerulean hue in the man's bright blue eyes, burning with a fathomless, smoldering rage at the mention of Remus. "I think I'm more or less okay, just tired."
Ollie stared at the young blonde witch and wolf, and couldn't help but shake his head incredulously, in disbelief of the way his new partner was behaving.
Not only did it bother him for reasons he could not explain that she did not know Ollie had been alongside Remus in the rescue tonight, but the way she was talking disturbed him greatly.
Did Jameson even realize what Rookwood would have done to her? What the Death Eater would have done to the wolf if Remus and Ollie had Apparated on sight when they did?
Death Eaters killed indiscriminately, but Lord Voldemort's followers were known to keep their victims alive and torture them when it was convenient for them, as his father had once done.
A man like Rookwood would have delighted in keeping a tiny werewolf, and a female at that, who was barely over 5'4, and that with those black-heeled boots she was currently wearing, as his plaything for weeks or even months on end, before finally killing her.
Jameson was lucky the creep had less than ten minutes alone with her to do whatever he wanted.
She had no idea what Voldemort's followers were capable of. Ollie bit down on his bottom lip, wanting to yell at the young woman, to tell her never to do something so stupid and foolish like wander the streets alone after dark, especially without him by her side as her newly appointed partner in the Order.
Augustus Rookwood had certainly been rough and cruel with Jameson, but it was nothing to what could have been.
The werewolf needed to understand that, but perhaps that conversation would be better saved for after dinner.
Right now, Jameson was looking utterly apologetic and miserable, not to mention quite ill and exhausted, and a shouting match, a lecture from him wasn't what she needed.
"We should pop your arm back into place, Jameson," Ollie suggested, moving with a careful tenderness so as to not startle the young witch, putting his fingers on Jameson's right arm. Anger surged within him, but not at Jameson for this one.
How could the St. Mungo's Healer possibly have overlooked and missed this injury? Couldn't the wizard tell his new partner was in considerable pain?
He watched, pained, as Jameson flinched at a jab of pain that seemed to shoot up her arm from her dislocated shoulder.
Norah bit down on her bottom lip to stifle the pained scream that threatened to escape from her lips, not wanting to draw the attention of the rest of the Order currently settling down to dinner in the kitchens.
She sniffed, breathing fast as she begged for help from him.
"Fix it, Brennan," she snarled in a hoarse voice.
"James—" he started to say, but she cut him off.
"Just bloody pop it back into place and fix it!" she snarled, in tears, her pain dominating reason. When Brennan's mood darkened, only then did Norah swallow down the lump in her throat and tamper down her own temper. "I—I've been through worse, Brennan. Just fix it for me. Pop it back. Now."
Brennan hesitated, his bright blue eyes brimming with unshed moisture, anxiety.
Norah sensed the man's reluctance and blew out a deep, shaking breath.
"You've done this before?" She whispered.
"No," he answered in a casual manner that sent a chill down Norah's spine at the way that he said it.
He lifted his gaze and watched a lump bob down her slim neck and a brief flicker of fear in her eyes.
"It's…easy, Brennan…j—just pop it—SLOWLY!" Norah, without even thinking, instinctively reached for fistfuls of the man's black woolen sweater as she felt the man's strong hands grab onto her dislocated shoulder and heard the crunch of bone forced to pop back into place, sending her body in an explosive, mortifying pain that she did not know how to silence.
And Ollie heard the loudest, most ear-piercing shriek that made the noise she'd given off earlier when captured by Rookwood sound like music to his ears.
He dug her head beneath his jaw and suffered his new partner's muffled screams as she clawed on his arms, digging through the thick material of his sweater, leaving angry red ribbons on his firm skin.
If not for her broken ankle, Ollie guessed Jameson would have already kicked him to the next city over. When her fit subsided and the convulsions died to mere sniffles, Ollie exhaled a sigh of relief.
He peeked at his partner's face and was met by her tear-filled blue eyes and a deep, scowling frown.
"Th—thank you," she gasped out in a half-choked sob. "Th—that wasn't so bad," she coughed.
"Wimp," Ollie snapped as he swept the woman's bangs out of her eyes and off of her small forehead. "Some tantrum you have, Jameson. So…wolfish."
"No, I-I…wasn't ready," she protested faintly.
Ollie narrowed his blue eyes in a teasing, somewhat playful manner. Seeing no room for excuses, Norah let out a soft, embarrassed chuckle despite her furrowed brows as she glowered at him.
"Really. I wasn't." She gave a weak punch at his chest and shoved him backward, turning on the heels of her black boots to head towards the kitchen.
It was a strangely warm, tingling feeling Jameson left Ollie with.
He was warm and it felt rather good.
Norah paused, a hand on the doorway to steady herself as she limped on her newly-mended ankle to make for the kitchens to join the rest of the Order.
"Brennan, just for the record, I don't usually react like that," Norah snapped in a hardened voice.
"Mmm," he grunted wordlessly by way of response to her statement, repressing the urge, and finding it a bit difficult not to roll his eyes at that.
"You should have told me," Norah accused hotly.
Ollie shrugged. "It won't be long, Jameson, and you'll be good as new," he said, forcing a smile, though it did not reach his blue eyes.
Though he was loathed to admit, and least of all to Jameson herself, he did not like to see the young witch in pain and hurt. However, he was glad at least that, despite their rocky beginning, she seemed at least willing to make amends and try to start over.
It did worry him, however, that the werewolf did not see the gravity of her situation.
She was behaving as though she'd accidentally fallen down or something, not narrowly escaped weeks, possibly months of brutal, endless torture followed by a cruel and painful death at the end of all of it at Rookwood's hands.
Ollie was torn between feeling glad that Jameson seemed less affected by the situation that she probably should have and feeling upset that Norah Jameson did not understand how dangerous the world around was.
Though the werewolf had seemed extraordinarily unaffected by tonight, and she now seemed to have all but forgotten her previous anguish towards him.
Although forgetting her pain would be nice for the werewolf mentally, it would not help Jameson to avoid these types of situations in the future, especially not as an Order member.
A healthy fear of Lord Voldemort's followers was a good thing, yes. Perhaps Norah Jameson's strange, prickly behavior and lack of concern was attributed to a simple case of still being in shock over the turn of tonight's events.
Ollie forced himself to shove all of those unhelpful thoughts out of his mind for the time being. He could worry and fret over that stuff later. For now, he needed to concentrate on getting through this dinner in one damned Merlin bloody piece, and for him and Jameson not to kill each other, and he grunted again as he followed her out.
His one thought that plagued his mind was a simple but poignant one, and as he followed Jameson into the kitchens, not bothering to stifle the small, crooked grin that snaked its way onto his face as he heard Mrs. Weasley shout at Mr. Weasley for something, Ollie could have sworn Jameson looked back at her.
And he could have sworn she smiled at him.
What a night, he thought to himself.
Unbeknownst to the Legilimens, the flustered young werewolf as she entered into the kitchens to meet the rest of the Order was having the exact same thought.
What a night…
Well. My shipper's heart says glad that those two made minimal progress, where it counts, though it's still a while yet before they come to truly trust one another and start to open up, though I sense a night watch in their near future that seems like it would be good for that sort of thing, though for now, coming up in Ch. 13, Norah survives her first Order dinner, which does not go exactly as smooth as it possibly could. Talk about rough first nights, indeed!