After what felt like hours and a multitude of spells later, between the three of them they had her stable and of the stasis charm, she was comfortable, albeit still not conscious. A large angry welt was appearing on her head swelling parts of her face.
Pansy stood chewing on her thumbnail as she stared at the usually stern woman. She looked so frail and small in the hospital bed, it was a shame that there was no one here to provide any comfort to her, not that she needed it. Pansy had been incredibly relieved to find no sign of an animal attack, and sent a silent prayer up to any deities listening, thanking them for that one small blessing.
"Does she have any family?" Owens asked quietly. Stood just behind her she wasn't able to see his face, but he sounded only as affected by the sight of her as she was.
"Her son and daughter-in-law are in the Janus Thickey ward, and her grandson… wasn't at home," Sloane replied, glancing at Pansy and catching her eye. She blinked and turned away. She knew that Messrs Ichabod and Chorley would never have been called if Neville hadn't contacted them and she certainly hadn't sensed any accident alarm wards when she'd been there before.
"So, what do you think happened? To her face, I mean," The American asked motioning to her face with his elbow as he pushed his hands into his pockets. "Looks like she hit her head pretty bad,"
"We found her at the bottom of the stairs. It looks like she fell, did you notice the mass?" Sloane asked, looking at Pansy again, using this as a lesson. She nodded.
"Suspected stroke causing her to fall?" She asked numbly.
Sloane nodded, she felt a slither of relief before concern darkened her mood again. If she was here, then there was no one with Neville, stopping him from doing something stupid.
"If you'll both excuse me, I need to see to something," she said with a nod before leaving the room. The two men nodded as they watched her go. She felt their eyes on her back as she escaped.
Panic rushed through her veins, stealing her breath as she thought about him alone in that house, not knowing if his gran was alive or dead. Pansy grabbed the nearest piece of paper and quill, scribbling a quick note before rushing to the roof.
The pigeon coop loomed in the darkness. The hospital had learned long ago that owls carrying messages through the capital was too suspicious and so, relied upon London's greatest animal. Seen as nothing but rats with wings to the Muggle commuters, they were the perfect messengers, ignored by the Muggle population, they could fly great distances and would always return home.
Pansy glanced at the scribbled note, making sure it was legible before rolling it up and sliding it into the ring around the bird's foot. Throwing the bird into the night sky, she watched as it disappeared quickly from sight. She muttered her message again, hoping the gods would hear this plea too.
Don't do anything stupid, Neville. Gran is stable. I'll come over soon.
Turning back towards the door, she stopped as a figure loomed in the orange light. She felt trapped suddenly, there was no other way off the roof. The figure stepped forward, and Healer Owens came into view. She let out a breath, not sure what she had been expecting.
"Thought I'd find you out here, You okay?" He asked, moving closer. She nodded holding herself against the cool air, the adrenaline jacket having worn off already.
"I'm fine," she said easily, she almost sounded like she believed it too.
"No, you're not. You're freaking out. People say I have this uncanny ability, like Legillamens. I know things about people,"
She was sure he meant it kindly, but she shivered, the hair on her back prickling. She lowered her eyes from his for a moment as she schooled her thoughts. She had never been as proficient as Draco at Occlumency, but she knew enough to shield at least a little. She rose her eyes to his face, focusing on his lips as he spoke.
"I'm fine," she repeated, and she moved to step around him.
"Pansy, wait," She paused for a moment, not looking at him but feeling hyper-aware.
"I need to get back to work,"
"I wondered whether you would remember me," he snorted "I guess we know the answer now,"
"What?" She asked, her mind reeling. "Remember you?"
"You were pretty young," Pansy saw the slight lift of his shoulders. "and always so surly in those pick frilly dresses your mother made you wear," He laughed at her now.
She narrowed her eyes at him, almost forgetting to lower her eyes from his.
"The things I remember, the secrets…" She felt fear wash through her at his words. Blinking as she calmed her mind again, she turned and jogged towards the stairs wanting to be around other people. No one knew she was up on the roof.
"Pansy!" He called after her, but she ran. Ran from the man with the dark blue eyes who haunted her dreams, and from the secrets he held.
She stepped into the green flames and was whisked away through the floo. Feigning illness, she finished her shift, scared about running into Healer Owens again or about what could be happening at Longbottom house without her or Augusta there to supervise.
Stepping out of the fireplace, she expected to find the cosy but sparsely decorated living room. What she stepped into was a disaster zone. Glass shards in the carpet glinted in the fading light from the green flames behind her. The glass cabinet lay in splinters as the foot of where the grandfather clock stood.
It was so much to take in, and it took a moment before she noticed the blood on the wall. Her heart stopped at the bloody handprint. It couldn't be as bad as she thought it was. Refusing to let the fear take over, she pressed on. She moved through the house following the trail of destruction and blood. Knowing he hadn't attacked August as an animal was a blessing. However, she was starting to wonder how much of this damage was from before and how much was after. She swallowed, her ears straining against the silence.
"Neville?" She called out, stepping carefully towards the kitchen where the destruction seemed its worst. Pausing at the door, she marvelled at the sheer chaos. Werewolves were strong, Everyone knew that, but this was something that had to be seen to be believed. The kitchen cabinets had been cleaved from the wall and shredded. Glass lay in this room too as the door and window frames sat crooked and empty. She shivered in the night air as it rushed around her, as though highlighting the damage.
"Neville?" She called again, She heard something scuffle in his room. Stepping carefully around the cupboards she closed in. raising her hand, her fingertips made contact with the wood of the door and pushed. It creaked unevenly on its hinge as it opened.
"Stay away," a small voice came from a huddled form in the corner. "I'm dangerous!"
She pressed ahead, seeing his clothes and skin smears with browning blood.
"Shush," She said, as she lowered herself next to her, "Let me look at you,"
"Please, I'll hurt you too," He said huddling.
"No, you won't," she soothed as she reached out to touch his arm. He jumped back as though her touch was painful.
"Don't! Please! I'm dangerous,"
"Neville, Please. Let me help you," She pleaded.
"No one can help me, just go and leave me alone," She stared at the brave, strong man that huddled in a ball afraid of his own shadow. It was time she found her own Gryffindor courage, he needed her now more than ever.