CHAPTER 23
PANSY thought perhaps it was too much to hope that following her dismissal from St. Mungo's as a patient, she would never have to set foot in the medical institution again.
She had never liked coming here, and not even this visit was an exception to her rule.
When she was a little girl, she had long since associated the magical institution with grief, losing a loved one, considering she had watched her Pop-Pop on her mum's side draw in his last breath here in one of the wards, and then recovering from the aftermath of that ruddy giant's attack on her had taken its toll.
Though the institution itself never actually exhibited a feeling of grief. Far from it, in fact. The waiting room where Norah manned the front desk reception area was always teeming to the brim with witches and wizards who suffered from some bizarre magical accident or creature-inflicted injury.
The long trek up the winding staircase, if you didn't fancy taking the elevator, offered brief glimpses into forays of nameless and rare maladies, and the talking portraits, were, for lack of a better word, well…strange.
Not even the feeling of George's hand intertwined through hers as they chose to take the stairs to Verity's private room was easing the anxiety now forming as a pit in her belly. However, they were both here for Verity, she tried to tell herself as they came to stop once they reached the corridor she was in.
This was perhaps the first time she could visit her friend, for yes, Pansy thought highly of Verity Raywood and thought of the witch as a close friend by this point. To visit and knowing Verity was hurt nagged at her, causing her chest to tighten to the point of discomfort, and Pansy fought against the lump forming in her throat and tried to blink back the tears now welling in her eyes.
She swallowed down hard at the feeling of George giving her hand he held onto a light but reassuring little squeeze intended to comfort her, and it did its job.
She breathed out a steadying breath and chanced an affectionate glance at him. They were here now.
Verity wouldn't be alone, whatever she had gone through, she would have her and George to help her through the worst. Pansy reverted her gaze towards the door in front of her and raised her knuckles to knock, though before she could, the sound of Verity's soft and mystical voice reached her ears.
"Come in."
Trying her hardest not to look bewildered, Pansy clutched onto the small plush Niffler close to her chest that George had bought for her from the St. Mungo's gift shop and a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and a couple of Chocolate Frogs.
"Hi, Verity." George forced a small smile as he opened the door just wide enough for himself and Pansy to squeeze through, and then gingerly closed it shut behind him, waving his wand to conjure an extra chair so he could sit down, insisting that Pansy take the chair that was closest to their friend's side.
Pansy's eyes raked over Verity's form as for a moment, tension met her upon entering the blindingly white private room. She stood, dazed for a while at the witch sitting against a mountain of piled pillows at the bed's headboard.
Short blonde hair just slightly longer than Norah's but not by much in contrast to almost bone-white pale skin and bright sky-blue eyes. It was Norah at that age.
It was her and she almost spoke her cousin's name, wracked with guilt that she'd not had a chance to see her cousin yet since Norah had regained consciousness, but hoped to when she and George returned home for lunch.
But when Verity opened her mouth and cheerfully asked for them to sit down, it definitely wasn't Norah's voice and Pansy was jolted out of her musings and looked guiltily down at the offering of a gift she and George had picked up at last minute. She fingered the slip of paper Professor Slughorn had given her stuffed in her coat pocket, hoping when she delivered it to Norah, that it meant that things would finally be looking up for her and her family.
She made a mental note not to let Ollie bugger off with his wife back to their place, assuming they hadn't yet left the Burrow by the time she and George got back until he'd told her the whole truth.
"We…er…got you some of the good stuff and a stuffed Niffler. It was either the Niffler or a stuffed Basilisk left to choose from on the shelves in the gift shop downstairs and you've never really struck me as the type of girl who's liked snakes, Verity," she stammered, smiling softly.
Verity smiled, though it looked like just the effort caused her pain, as her grin looked more of a pained grimace as she affectionately patted the top of the stuffed animal's head.
"He's adorable, Pan. Mr. Weasley, sir, thank you so much," she said shyly, lowering her gaze. Verity didn't look nearly as beaten as Pansy had initially feared.
She had a light bruise on her cheek, near her eye, and her neck. Had some pretty dark bruises on both of her arms, but she looked more or less okay, which was an utter relief to see.
"Will you be getting out of here soon?" George asked, worried, though there was a slightly joking tone to his voice. "Mum would bloody murder me if you didn't get to attend the little party she wants to throw for you since you're leaving us on Friday, Verity."
Verity smiled shyly as she reached out bandaged hands to take the sweets and the stuffed little Niffler Pansy handed over. Verity nodded, her blue eyes growing glassy and distant. Pansy recognized this as the Seer having another one of her visions of the future. She hadn't believed her coworker at first, during her first day on the job when the two had gone to lunch and she had asked Verity to tell her about herself when she had revealed that she was a Seer.
It had taken two predictions from her friend before Pansy came to understand and could respect that she'd been telling the truth. She now learned to never doubt her friend's gift and abilities.
"In another three hours, but you two will leave in the next fifteen minutes. Your father, Mr. Weasley, sir, he'll call for you both to come home, you'll be needed at the Burrow, there will be something of an incident, but it will turn out fine," she predicted in a glossy voice, before coming back to herself a bit and remembering they were asking about her welfare. "I don't have any serious injuries." She stuck out her bottom lip in a slight pout that Pansy couldn't help but smile at, being reminded of Norah. "This whole thing was really kind of blown out of proportion, I don't see why they made me stay these last few days. I'm fine. I'm not hurt. The Healer told me that when she popped in for a spell a half hour ago, she was getting my discharge paperwork for me to sign. Then I'm free to head for home."
Pansy nodded. "Good. You…er…have a safe place to stay then? And what about Charlie, will he come to visit you once you're out? Doesn't he leave to go back to Romania at the end of summer?" she asked in a small voice, scooting her chair closer to Verity's bedside and moving her hand close so that Verity could hold it if she wanted.
Pansy had come to learn that the Seer's emotions tended to go into hibernation, considering the scope of her abilities and how her ability to see the futures of everyone around her, never let her rest. A normal person would want comfort from a friend after being beaten and kidnapped, but she knew that Verity Raywood might not.
"He will," Verity answered in that mystical voice of hers. "But he's not a part of my future. Draco is," she admitted, shooting Pansy a sly little look and watching as the blood drained from Pansy Parkinson's face at her admission.
Verity smiled as she reached for a packet of the Chocolate Frogs and chucked one each to Pansy and George before unwrapping hers. As usual, as any sane person would, the blonde examined the Chocolate Frog card and smiled, her twinkling blue eyes taking on a brilliant sheen as she held up the card that had come with her treat.
"I don't have this one in my collection yet," Verity teased.
Pansy nearly choked on the bite of chocolate in her mouth as Verity held up a card of a dark-haired wizard with long shadow-raven black hair, a sallow face, and an expression of utmost discontent.
Professor Severus Snape's newly added Chocolate Frog card.
Pansy proceeded to choke on the leg of the Chocolate Frog she was in the middle of eating and George had to dart out of his chair to come to where she was sitting to thump her on the back. George didn't know whether he looked like he should laugh or be worried, and so the red-haired wizard settled for silent as an apt reply.
Between the news that Verity would one day date and possibly marry her ex-boyfriend, and now, she'd not even realized that her former Head of House had gotten his Chocolate Frog card, it was too much to take in at once.
Verity frowned and raised an eyebrow at Pansy in confusion. She set Professor Snape's card aside on the small night table next to the stuffed Niffler plush Pansy had picked out, especially for her.
"Are you…alright, Pan? I—I thought you knew Snape got his card by now or didn't you know? When Harry testified on his behalf after his death and Rita Skeeter wrote that awful biography on him two weeks after his burial, they decided to give him his card."
The blonde scrunched her nose at the mention of the tabloid reporter who was one bitch of a witch.
Tabloid reporter Rita Skeeter, famous for her poison pen stories was someone Pansy sincerely hoped never to encounter and hoped Ollie and Norah wouldn't either, considering the scandal about Ollie's outburst that was now plastered all over the front page of this morning's edition of The Daily Prophet.
She hoped never to encounter the witch for she felt sure that it would be her last. If Skeeter ever dared to show her face to her or anyone in her life that she cared about, Pansy didn't trust herself not to kill the witch where the bitch stood if she did.
"Fine," Pansy blurted out, coughing a bit. "J-just…just choked a bit. N-no, I didn't know Snape was on the Chocolate Frog cards. Guess you'd better hang on to that one, Ver, it might be worth something someday now that the book on the man's life has hit the shelves. And Draco?" she squeaked, eyeing Verity Raywood with wide, unblinking eyes.
The Seer nodded, sighing in quiet exasperation before sitting straighter and more upright against her pile of fluffed pillows. She looked away for a moment, getting that glazed-over look in her blue eyes that Pansy adequately decided to label the Seer's 'Vision' face.
But Verity must not have wanted to talk about Draco, for she promptly changed the subject.
"You talked to him, then?" she breathed out in her soft voice. "To Professor Slughorn? He told you about Auror Brennan's Obscurus?"
George slowly turned to look at Pansy, his mind swimming. He'd known that Pansy's intentions for leaving him this morning were to visit Professor Slughorn, and ever since she'd left, he'd been confused as to how a former Potions Professor could help her cousin's husband out of the ruddy mess he was in.
And after the other night, since they had taken it a step further and he had spent the night with her, he had been confused. Happy, elated, sure, but painfully confused. At first, he'd entertained the notion of going to Dad with it but decided he would figure it out on his own. He'd not thought to even ask her if her visit was a success. Though before he could ask, his shop assistant shyly spoke up, disrupting his thought process.
"I guess not, or I would have seen the outcome in your future."
This was a surprise. Pansy gave a startled jolt and straightened her posture, leaning forward in her chair.
"Wait. What?" she exclaimed. "You can't see my future? Or Ollie's? What about Norah?" she asked, suddenly growing worried.
Verity squirmed and suddenly looked uncomfortable. She had gone paler than usual and her posture was suddenly tense. She barely moved her lips when she spoke.
"I see multiple futures, Pan, nothing is ever fixed, it's always constant, always changing, I've seen…something in your future, about your family, and you, but it's complicated, difficult to explain. I am not sure that I could tell you both. Or that I should," Verity quietly explained, though she sounded and looked almost ashamed as her brows furrowed into a slight frown.
The edges of her mouth turned down as she fidgeted with one of the wrappings on her hand that was coming loose.
Pansy was tempted to smack her hand away but didn't do it.
She lifted her gaze and looked towards Pansy and George, eyeing both of her coworkers with an odd look neither of them could place.
The edges of Verity's lips twitched upward in a slight smile.
"I've seen something in your future…" she began, to which George, to Pansy's surprise, let out a sharp groan and ran a hand through his hair as he sat back in his chair. She frowned, feigning hurt feelings. "What is it, Mr. Weasley, sir? You don't believe me?" Verity asked.
George rolled his eyes and lifted his gaze to Verity's questioning blue eyes, before flicking his gaze to Pansy and then back to Verity.
"What's the catch?" he asked his shop's assistant with a grunt.
Verity halted, blinking in confusion the way Pansy had a moment ago.
"Beg pardon?" she asked her supervisor, kindly but guarded.
"Seers typically require payment in exchange for their services, Ver," George muttered, fighting the urge to scoff at her sudden revelation.
"That's true," Verity admitted with a casual shrug of her shoulders, a rather subdued expression now beginning to form on her face.
She looked towards Pansy, and the beginnings of a rather mischievous grin Pansy was sure she must have learned from Fred and George in the three or so years she'd worked for the wizards, formed on her lips.
"I did just take your last Chocolate Frog without you even noticing."
Pansy paused and then looked down at her hands, which had previously been cupped around her sweet chocolate treat for the day. Then she heard an audible snapping sound of a piece of chocolate being broken up.
Across from her, Verity had broken off one of the Frog's legs and polishing off the last remains of her Chocolate Frog. She took her time chewing and swallowing her bite of chocolate before resting her head back against the pillows and closing her eyes.
"Consider this my payment for revealing my vision to you, Mr. Weasley, sir. Pan," she offered with a satisfied sigh, eyes still closed. Though she smiled cheekily as if she couldn't feel Pansy glaring literal daggers into her flesh just now as Pansy's face flushed red.
"It better be good," Pansy growled. "I wanted to eat that."
"Sorry to disappoint you, Pan, Mr. Weasley, but not exactly. It's about Auror Brennan." Verity paused and peeked open one eyelid.
Pansy was silently seething and positively angry now as her breakfast from earlier had worn off and her stomach growled, begging for sustenance. The Frog would have held her over until lunch when she'd been told by George that his mum was making meatballs, which were, in George's words, to die for.
"Enlighten us, then, Ver, please," she snapped sarcastically.
"A difficult decision waits for you in the future, Pan," she predicted, her tone serious now as she opened both eyes and looked at her with a level gaze. "It concerns your family," she said gravely.
"Wait, is this decision about whether or not he'll lose his job, because Slughorn, he—" she stared to say, but Verity cut her off.
"No. This is a decision that's much more serious," Verity continued somberly, lowing her voice so the multitude of various Healers making their rounds through the hallway just outside wouldn't hear.
She continued, despite George and Pansy exchanging worried glances. Pansy herself had trouble catching all of her words.
"And no matter what…all of you will be changed, forever," she said.
"Changed?" Pansy blurting out, blinking owlishly at Verity.
"Yes," Verity answered quietly, locking her gaze with hers, her blue eyes sparkling like sapphires in the light, alongside Pansy's dark eyes. "I saw the two routes the two of you could take, but I don't know which path you both will choose. You'll decide together. As I mentioned before, it's going to be a difficult decision for you, and you won't have much time to make it. Your cousin, Norah, too, will help."
Pansy frowned. She wasn't sure if her coworker and friend were speaking the truth or just trying to get some kind of rise out of her. Either way, she knew immediately that she did not like it at all.
"Listen, Ver, I…"
But before she could speak, a woman's voice, an older witch's, interrupted what Pansy had been about to ask.
"Excuse me, dearies, but I am afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave now, I need to see to the needs of my patient, if you would please," came a woman's voice, a Healer, Pansy noticed, as she and George swiveled in their chairs to find a rosy-cheeked Healer, an older frumpy sort of woman with greying hair swept up in a comb.
The short witch held a clipboard in her hands containing a copy of Verity's medical records, her discharge paperwork, the treatments applied, and a receipt for her stay, the payment method of which could be worked out at Gringotts. Pansy and George saw no other choice but to comply as they both shot Verity a look for confirmation.
Only when Verity nodded, a look of assurance in her blue eyes that this was how the events were meant to unfold, did they move from their chairs and head to the door, just in time for the Healer to call out to Pansy that a message was left at the front desk reception in the lobby, intended for Pansy.
The kind, matronly-looking Healer who somewhat reminded Pansy of Madame Pomfrey a bit, apologized that she could not relay all the details of the message, just that their presence was requested at the Burrow.
"Your father requests you home immediately, Mr. Weasley, sir, says it's a matter of utmost urgency, says Miss Parkinson is needed, that someone is in a right grave state, my dear, and to come at once," the Healer stated.
The witch furrowed her brows in a frown as she glanced down at the piece of scrap paper attached to the top of her clipboard as she had hastily scribbled down the message their temporary replacement for Norah had scrawled down to give to him when she came up.
Pansy and George lingered in front of the open doorway, each other's expression of dread mirroring the other.
"Ollie," they spoke in unison, a cold wave of fear washing over both of their bodies, rendering the couple feeling as though they'd been doused in ice water. They mumbled a hasty goodbye to Verity, who promised she would see them next Friday at the Burrow for her going-away party that Mrs. Weasley was insisting upon throwing for her.
Pansy and George politely but hurriedly excused themselves, quitting the scene of her room and leaving the St. Mungo's Healer to see to her work. As George took hold of Pansy's arm and led her down the hallway towards the elevator, Pansy felt as though the air around her clamped.
She suddenly felt dizzy and lightheaded, wondering what happened, though she tried to focus on the Seer's words, remembering that Verity had made mention of an 'incident', whatever that meant, in the end, things would turn out alright. She just had to trust her friend and take the Seer at her word that her prediction was true.
Even still, the notion of not knowing what was going on had her swallowing down hard and a glimmer of sweat started to glitter on top of her scalp as she and George stepped into the elevator.
Neither one of them said a word, though both were wrapped in annoyance and fear at the vagueness of Verity Raywood's prediction, or how the blonde's bright blue eyes had followed them to the exit.
They had lingered here too long and now, Ollie and Norah were calling them home.
PANSY could not shake the cold feeling of dread that had wound its icy tendrils around the feeble quivering muscle within her chest, not even the moment their feet touched down on the grasslands a few hundred feet away from George's parents' home. She could practically feel George's reluctance and nervousness to approach the Burrow, almost fearing that whatever would stumble across, wouldn't be good.
As she turned to the side to face him, the poor wizard was looking so flustered as a hand found its way to his thick red hair and he ran his fingers through his hair, accidentally tousling it in irritation.
She took a moment to steady herself as her senses came back to her, studying the countryside, unable to explain away the peace that was starting to wallow in her soul. She felt…at home here. Peaceful.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she asked, speaking of the Burrow, and the countryside of Ottery St. Catchpole as she cast a glance at George, hoping that he agreed with her sentiment, that he would catch the hidden meaning of her words, that she could stay here, forever.
But then she noticed George wasn't even paying any attention to their surroundings, just her. He didn't take his eyes off her as he spoke.
"It is," he concurred, speaking of the countryside but wanting to speak of her as well.
And before she could say another word, he leaned forward and kissed her tenderly. He broke apart from the tender embrace after a moment and linked her arm with his to guide his girlfriend towards the Burrow.
As they approached, Hermione and Ron came stalking out the front door of the Burrow, hurrying to greet them, both of them wearing disgruntled expressions on their faces.
"What? What is it?" George uttered cautiously as his brother and Hermione came closer towards where they stood rooted to the spot.
Ron and Hermione exchanged worried looks with one another. Hermione was the first one to speak.
"Norah's developed a slight fever and Ollie's putting up a fight at not being allowed in to see him while Mr. and Mrs. Weasley works to bring down her temperature. Given his rather arrogant nature, your parents feared ignoring Norah's demands that you lot come home before she lost consciousness would lead to unnecessary damage to himself and perhaps the Burrow, so we came out to warn you that whatever you find in there, won't be pretty. Last we saw, I think Auror Brennan was heading for the backyard for air," Hermione spoke up, huffing in indignation.
"O-oh," stammered Pansy, unable to formulate much of a coherent reply, as her mind still felt like it was reeling from all that had happened. "I—I see. Thank you, Hermione, for—for letting us know," she commented, for she did not know what else to say to Ron's girlfriend. "Well, then…I guess, if Norah's in no condition to calm him down, then I guess I'll see if I can get him to calm down and hopefully get the rest he needs and he can quit bothering everyone here," Pansy sighed. "I'm sorry for all of this, all the trouble we've caused," she apologized, downcasting her gaze.
But Hermione shook her head, taking Ron's arm and pulling him forward.
"None of this is your fault." Though as she spoke the words, Hermione looked worried, and it was at that moment that a startled shout that sounded like it came from the second floor of the Burrow ripped through the air, courtesy of the open window. Ollie's voice.
"C'mon, Pan, let's get inside and see what's wrong before he blows up the house," George murmured urgently, not letting them waste any more time as he grabbed Pansy's arm and began to pull her forward.
Ron and Hermione did not follow them. Instead, the couple Disapparated to do Merlin knows what, probably shag somewhere in private for all she cared, but right now, Pansy couldn't manage to pretend to care.
Once they were inside and reached the second story of his parents' home, George turned right and all but sprinted down the short hallway. Pansy kept the pace only inches behind her boyfriend.
Her mind couldn't fathom what the problem was. Fear seized at her heartstrings, and a thousand terrible thoughts ran through her mind. She needed to be with her mate, to help him and Norah through whatever was going on. George was the first one to reach the door through which another of Ollie's angry shouts had come.
Pansy followed, nearly knocking George out of the way on accident to see what was wrong.
Ollie was knelt into a crouch by Norah's bedside, while Mrs. Weasley and the begrudging Healer Jones from earlier this morning, stood on either side of the bed, continuously fussing over the blonde.
Pansy drew in a sharp gasp that pained her lungs. Norah did not look well at all.
She was shivering and shaking madly, her teeth chattering against the cold sheets that Mrs. Weasley and the Healer draped over her body and across her sweat-soaked brow to bring down her fever.
"A fever?" Pansy asked, already knowing the answer.
Ollie nodded, turning towards Pansy, his face even paler than usual.
"She's burning up," he commented in a voice choked with emotion. Though he tore his gaze away from Pansy the moment Norah called Ollie's name, her eyes open but she appeared not to see him, despite Ollie clutching onto his wife's hand and speaking softly into the shell of his wife's ear.
He tried to reassure Norah she would be a wonderful mother to their child, that he was right here where he was sitting and not anywhere else, and begged his beloved wife to open her eyes and look at him.
"Is there anything we can do?" Pansy asked worriedly, reaching for George's arm, and looking towards Mrs. Weasley and the St. Mungo's Healer. "Can George or I help?"
But no sooner than the words were out of her mouth did Norah open her eyes as Mrs. Weasley was mopping at her brow with a cold cloth wrapped in ice, her lids fluttering as her blue eyes were hazy and unfocused. Still far too weak to move, she lay staring at Ollie as he sat by her side, clutching onto her hand as though it were a lifeline.
Her first focus was her husband. Her mind began to swim out and out of the depths in which she'd rested for a few hours, and her husband was the first thought that was the light in the murky darkness of her subconsciousness. She woke in confusion, at first unsure of where she was and desperate for Ollie.
Her mind swam with the foggy memory of being trapped in that awful house with the kid, Verity Raywood. She remembered the fear when it became clear to her that she was probably going to be killed by Lestrange, only to wake up hours later in a warm and comfortable bed. Ollie. He'd been there, she'd seen him.
They had spoken. She'd been so certain her husband had been a ghost, come to take her to their heaven. But then she realized they were both alive. As her lids fluttered open and a tired groan escaped her lips as she struggled to sit up against the pile of pillows resting at the bed's headboard, other faces swam into her line of sight. Pansy was there, and the twin, George, she thought.
Ollie sat beside her, smiling in wonder down at Norah.
"Thank Merlin, babe, you've come back to me," he whispered in a choked voice, reaching to hold onto her hand.
Norah couldn't help but grace her with a weak smile of her own, as she brought up a hand to caress Ollie's face.
"Was I gone that long?" she asked, hoarsely.
A shudder of laughter at Norah's pitiful attempt at a joke escaped Pansy's throat, and her dark eyes danced as it felt as though a weight were lifted off her heart. It was such a relief to see her cousin alive and she was going to recuperate and would have the best of care here if they stayed at the Burrow.
"Long enough, Nor," Pansy nodded in a small voice, smiling softly as Ollie leaned down and kissed his wife, while Norah relaxed into the tender embrace.
When the couple broke from their passionate greeting, Ollie helped Norah to sit up at her request. She tried to stretch the soreness from her muscles but was immediately halted by the pain in her abdomen from where Lestrange had kicked her repeatedly.
Ollie instantly quieted his wife with the gentle touch of a hand on her shoulder.
"Can you remember what happened?" he asked, ready to relay the details of her ill-fated attempt to protect her cousin and Pansy's friends.
Norah fell silent, pondering her husband's question for a moment, recognition dawning on her face as she nodded. Then she turned her head to Ollie, and she frowned.
"Oh, I remember, Ol," she whispered, another shiver traveling down her back as visions of Rodolphus Lestrange jeering at her flitted through her mind. "I'd like to forget it." She turned towards the St. Mungo's Healer expectantly.
"Jones," she croaked out in a reedy-sounding voice. "My marching orders, sir?" she asked, trying to smile at her coworker as the Healer stood at the foot of the bed, not wanting to intrude upon the private moment between the married couple.
Healer Jones allowed a hopeful smile to find his wary face.
"Your fever has broken," Healer Jones reported in a crisp and professional tone. "Your wounds are healing, Mrs. Brennan," he relayed to the group in the cramped bedroom. "You will need some time to recover, but I would say you're through the worst of it. I recommend some fresh air, as a start, perhaps a walk would do you wonders, and perhaps some light chicken broth and cold pumpkin juice to start. Other than that, I hope to see you back at work next week and never as my patient again, Mrs. Brennan, you hear me?" he told her, a slightly teasing tone to his voice.
"Yes, sir," Norah shot the Healer a wane grin. Behind the Healer, Pansy and George smiled at the happy news.
Ollie continued to kneel beside Norah, gently gathering his wife in his arms and giving her another kiss with the day and a half of longing that had been denied him. She met his embrace with equally sweet passion, her heart relieved that he'd come through this incident unscathed. She was glad it had been her and not Ollie who'd been injured. She wasn't sure she could have survived watching her husband suffer more than he already had.
Ollie gingerly helped her off of the bed and to stand on her own two feet, hovering inches from his wife.
"Merlin's answered my prayers, babe," Ollie smiled at Norah, certain that he was the luckiest wizard alive on earth.
Pansy stepped forward, eager to help her cousin and Ollie in whatever way she could.
"Could I take you for a walk? Maybe some fresh air will help you feel better," she questioned, flicking her gaze towards Ollie's exhausted face and the darkening circles that were becoming more prominent under both his eyes.
Norah noticed her cousin's pensiveness and was eager to speak to Pansy privately, seeing the look of adoration in Pan's eyes as she looked into Weasley's eyes.
She wondered at the obvious strong bond that was forming between them as it had for her and Ollie when she was Pan's age. But she still wanted Pan to be careful, not wanting to see her get hurt.
"I'd like that," Norah started to say, though before she could, she heard Ollie vehemently protest.
"She's my wife, Pan, my responsibility. I can handle it from here," he balked and bristled at her.
Pansy, however, showed no signs of relenting and giving in to Ollie's barking and snarling at her. She had inherited Norah's stubbornness over the years of spending so much time with her cousin, and staunchly refused the Auror's offer, shaking her head no and pursing her lips into a thin line.
"I don't think so, Ollie. Ollie, mate, no offense, but you look like shit. You should sleep. Why don't you go home, get some rest, and I'll take Norah for that walk, just us girls, what do you say, mate?" she spoke up, while Mrs. Weasley politely excused herself and escorted the St. Mungo's Healer downstairs to let him use their Floo fireplace.
She bit down on her lip and waited, hoping the Legilimens wouldn't dip into her mind and learn that Pansy was secretly hoping to talk to her cousin alone, to give her the name of Professor Slughorn's contact and to ask her cousin just how the bloody hell Ollie had become such a monster.
She suspected the man would never reveal it, and Norah was perhaps her best bet to learn the truth.
Ollie looked questioningly towards Norah, unwilling to move from her side.
He'd not left her side since bringing her back to the Burrow, except to have breakfast this morning with Pansy, and he was fearful to leave his wife's side now. A part of him felt as if somehow, it was his sheer will that kept his expectant wife healthy and recovering fully.
He wanted to be the one to hold her arm, to help her change her clothes, bathe if she needed help, and tend her wounds. To take her for that walk would get some color returning to her complexion. It was as if being separated from Norah for even a few hours would leave them both vulnerable. But Norah must have been able to sense his thoughts, for the blonde Veela gently clasped his jaw in between her hands and gave him a brave smile.
"Go ahead, love. You've tended to me nonstop for hours," she acknowledged, her blue eyes brimming with tears as she told him with just a look how grateful she was. "You need rest too," she told him with concern. "I'll be alright. Pan and George are with me, and so are Arthur and Molly if I happen to need anything. Vimly's probably worried for you, you should go home, let her take care of you for a while," she chuckled lovingly.
"If you're sure," Ollie begrudgingly conceded, lowering his face, and closing his eyes.
He wanted to keep his wife's presence with him. Slowly, he opened his eyes and reluctantly stepped away from his wife. He crossed the room to join George at the door, who quietly mumbled that he wanted to talk to his dad about something, recognizing Pansy wanted the alone time with her cousin, probably to talk about Ollie.
Norah smiled sweetly at Ollie as the Auror was led out of their bedroom by George, with Ollie gingerly closing the door behind him, though he stood trying to glimpse his wife for as long as he possibly could. Pansy and Norah moved to stand by the window, watching as George escorted Ollie off of the Burrow's property.
As Ollie headed towards the tall swaying reeds with the intent to Disapparate and head for home to let Vimly see to most of his needs while he slept for a few hours and regained some much-needed sleep, her husband had to sense the both of them staring at him.
Ollie turned around, looking for the source of the prickling sensation at the back of his neck until he spotted his wife and his wife's cousin at the window.
For a moment, their eyes locked, and no one made a move, then, he smiled at the women with a wane little smile, turning on the heels of his boots and Disapparating.
Though Norah and Pansy both still felt Ollie's eyes on them until they moved away from the windowsill.
Pansy waited patiently on the bed while Norah showered and opted for a change of clothes, choosing a pair of comfortable black lounge pants and a thick grey off-the-shoulder sweater to keep warm from the chilly May air.
Once they were outside and enjoying the fresh air of the countryside, Pansy could sense Norah relax.
She felt her cousin's affectionate gaze on her as the walked away from the Burrow, Pansy's arm wound around Norah's, as Norah's gait and equilibrium were slightly off.
They walked in silence for a while, a thousand unspoken emotions hanging between them. Norah's gait was slower than her usual long hurried strides, for which Pansy was grateful her cousin wasn't attempting to overdo it and tax her body even further. Her wounds were tender, her body still feeling flushed and feverish.
But Norah paid no attention to the prickling itch of her wounds, or how bruised and battered her whole body felt from the one hell of a beating Lestrange had given her. Her thoughts were only focused on Ollie, hoping it wouldn't be too far off in the future where her wounds would heal, and she could wrap her body around the man she loved and let him make slow passionate love to her. She wanted that.
Pansy's voice pulled Norah from her desirous thoughts of Ollie.
"Should we sit somewhere?" she asked, her other hand coming to rest on her wand secured safely in her belt. "Are you tired?" Pansy's worried gaze found Norah's soft blue eyes. Pansy began to fear maybe her idea of a walk had been misguided, and it was taxing her cousin far too much already.
Norah nodded. "Maybe for a couple of minutes," she agreed, as the wind tousled their hair and blew her wispy fringe off of her cheeks.
Pansy needed no further encouragement and waved her wand, conjuring a couple of cushions for the two to sit on underneath the shade of a particularly large elm tree, though the skies above their heads were still dull and grievous.
It was Pansy who first broke the awkwardness that lingered between them after they sat in silence for what felt like several long minutes, feeling the breeze whip through the air, enjoying the sound of the rustling swaying reeds of tall grass.
"A-are we just gonna sit here, Nor?" she began hesitantly. "I—I mean…surely there's something we could talk about," she stammered.
"What do you think of Dominic or Elena, Pan? For a name?" Norah asked casually by way of conversation, sighing with amusement as a soft smile found her face. "We'll have to start coming up with baby names soon," she confessed, her hand instinctively drifting to the flat of her stomach. "Dominic for his brother if it's a boy, or Elena, for my mother, if we having a girl, Pan."
Pansy nodded, though she reddened with embarrassment at the mention of Ollie's brother, a twin she'd never known he had.
"Both are great names, I think either one would suit your kid well, Norah, b-but…I…." She hesitated, chewing on her lip, unsure whether or not she should even ask the question that was now burning on the tip of her tongue, begging to be asked.
She knew she would have to broach the topic, as Norah needed the slip of paper that was in the pocket of her coat, but she did not know how to begin such a difficult conversation. Norah slowly turned her head to regard her cousin.
For a moment, Pansy sat staring stiffly ahead of her. Norah could only watch Pansy in utter confusion.
As Pansy grew increasingly uncomfortable in the awkward silence that had now settled in the air between them, she opened her mouth to speak. But she decided against her apparent plan of attack and clamped her mouth shut.
She was squirming on top of the quilted blanket she had conjured for the two of them to sit on like a little girl caught in a lie.
After the third try, with a raise of her eyebrows, Norah decided she would need to lead the conversation and would have to coax Pan into revealing whatever was on her mind.
"Pan?" Norah questioned softly, hoping to settle her cousin's frayed nerves. "Is there something specific you want to talk about? What's wrong? Is it…is it George? Are you having boy troubles again already? You only just started dating!" she asked her cousin, only half-teasing her as she raised her eyebrows coaxingly, a faint smile tugging her lips upward.
"Wh-what?" Pansy exclaimed anxiously. "Ummm, no, I…it's not anything like that, I just...there's something that I think you need to have," she stammered, swallowing down hard and nearly choking. Without warning, she changed the direction of her thoughts, her eyes floating down to the flat of Norah's abdomen tenderly. She dug into the pocket of her coat and nearly fumbled with the scrap piece of paper that Professor Slughorn had given her earlier. "I…er…this is for you, Pan. I—I was worried about Ollie losing his job over what happened, so I thought…"
Pansy let her voice trail off as she silently handed the piece of paper to her cousin.
Norah furrowed her brows into a worried frown as she glanced down at a scrap of paper, upon which there was a single name written on it in fancy jet-black ink, along with the wizard's contact name. Her face paled in shock as she continued to stare blankly at the Ministry worker's name and knew then immediately what it was Pansy had done.
"You…you did this for me? For him?" Norah whispered, her voice trembling with emotion as she finally managed to tear her gaze away from the slip of parchment that would undoubtedly save Ollie's career, perhaps even their lives, and pocketed it carefully. "But…why? There was no need to, I could have handled the situation, why risk it..?"
Pansy inhaled deeply and then looked earnestly at Norah as she nodded.
"Nor," she began, her tone at first laced with perhaps too much sympathy. Her brows furrowed too deep with care, and she tried again. "I know it's not any of my business, to get involved in yours and Ollie's lives, and I had no right to go behind you guys to do this for you if it's not something that you wanted me to do for you." Pansy's face reddened at the personal nature of her confession. "But it's only because I care about you guys that I have to—"
"Out with it, Pan," Norah impatiently interrupted her in mid-flow, frustrated at the young witch's round-about explanations that were only sending poor Pansy in circles. "You and me, we've been through too much, not to be able to speak freely around each other. What's going on? What's the matter? You can talk to me," she asked.
There was a bond between the three of them, and she knew whatever was troubling Pansy concerning her situation with Ollie was coming from a place of love, and not wanting to see either of them get hurt.
Norah's attitude softened considerably as she reached out a hand and touched Pansy's elbow delicately.
"Whatever you have to tell me, Pan, you can talk about it freely, whatever it is. I won't judge you, so c'mon then, spit it out, Pan," she offered her cousin in what Norah hoped was a soothing tone. She studied Pansy with a kind expression, intently watching Pansy.
"Slughorn told me that…that Ollie…killed his mother, his brother, mate. I—I didn't even know he had a brother," she whispered, crestfallen. "Is it true? Oh, Norah, tell me it's not true, tell me it's not," she choked out softly, tears glistening at the edges of her eyes, not wanting to believe.
Norah stiffened, becoming silent for a moment. It was as if strange unseen magic had transported her back to that night, it being one of the first things out of Ollie's mouth on their third date. He had taken her to Hogsmeade, and he'd unceremoniously blurted it out when they'd stopped to admire the Shrieking Shack.
Norah had been playful that night, wanting to go closer towards it for a dare, to see if the place was as haunted as the rumors made it out to be, but he'd refused.
Only when Norah had quietly pressed her date for an answer, did the truth come out, though only after she'd taken him to the Three Broomsticks and it was three glasses of Firewhisky later, that he'd told her everything.
How it was on Dumbledore's insistence that Ollie was allowed to attend Hogwarts and had personally paid a visit to Jack and Elena Brennan to ensure that the parents assented to the nature of his request.
If his twin brother Dominic could attend, Albus had seen no reason why Oliver would not be able to and had practically insisted on it. He used the Shrieking Shack as a means of escape when he could feel his temper swelling and an outbreak coming on. The Shrieking Shack was protected by several powerful enchantments and prevented the building from suffering from the worst of the Obscurus's outrage.
She had heard the words of love and promise Ollie had whispered to her that night as they had clung to one another outside the tavern for support when Madame Rosmerta had finally kicked them out when she was due to close up shop. He'd spoken to Norah then of wanting a future with her, of marriage someday, a family, things he'd always hoped to have, that his father Jack had told him a monster like him was never capable of.
Her breaths stifled in her throat as she recalled the hopeful gleam in Ollie's eyes when the wizard had told her that she was the one with whom he wanted all of those things in his life. She had believed him without question and vowed that whatever he had done back then, if it was true, then he wasn't at fault.
She remembered his words when she'd asked him if he had killed his mother and his twin brother, Dominic.
I don't know, he had blurted out when he'd finished his drink, distraught and very near tears. But I…it…I think that I probably did, Norah. The fact that Ollie could not remember what had happened spoke volumes to Norah.
She had promised him that no matter what the Obscurus had made him do, it was never him that did those things, and she was of a mind that the sooner Remus's father Lyall could help, the better.
Hopefully too, if she sent a letter to this Ministry employee that Horace Slughorn had highly recommended would vouch for her husband's character, the man's word would be his bond.
She only hoped that it would be enough to keep Ollie from a lifetime spent in a secure padded room in St. Mungo's. If they could not remove the parasite from him, the Ministry would see him locked away. Norah tried to ignore the little ache in her stomach at the thought of her husband going to such a wretched awful place.
The thought of him spending his entire life behind bars, away from her, from their son or daughter when their baby was born, not able to see their child and watch he or she grow up into a fine young wizard or witch in the making, was not something Norah was willing to entertain.
And neither, judging by the look on Pan's face, was her cousin. Otherwise, she wouldn't have risked her neck this morning by sneaking off and visiting Ollie's former Head of House.
If he were incarcerated in St. Mungo's as a patient, Norah would never be able to see or speak to him again.
They would likely make a fortune off of whatever books came out about their family as some author or other, she hoped not Rita Skeeter, would try to unearth the skeletons in Ollie's closet now that his accidental loss of control had made the front page of The Daily Prophet.
The incident was now garnering the public's attention.
There was a chance that she might lose her job as the institute's Welcome Witch. Her supervisor could very well see her working the front desk as something of a conflict of interest. He'd have cause to let her go.
No, if and when Ollie was taken into custody, that would be goodbye, and the thought put a sour taste in her mouth and a horrible aching in her chest.
It was only then as Pansy awkwardly cleared her throat that Norah was jolted out of her thoughts and remembered that she owed her cousin an answer. Norah swallowed and spoke slowly, afraid that her practiced façade of apathy would crumble in front of her cousin here and now.
"It is, at least...I think that it is, what else could it be, Pan?" she whispered, her throat stiff with the effort to speak. "But it wasn't Ollie's fault, Pan, you have to understand that." A disgusting heat began to sting at the back of her throat as if the words she spoke now to Pansy were personally attacking her. "He can't remember what happened, he was only seventeen when Dom died, b-but...he suspects that he...that he did it," she whispered. "Though he showed me his memories of what he believes happened, there was an eye-witness who lived near his family at the time, says she suspected it was him, but we've never really been able to find out the truth. You can't extract a dead person's memories, or Ollie would have done it to Dominic before the Aurors came for his body," she whispered, surprised to hear herself confess it after all this time of keeping the truth a pent-up secret from everyone she knew.
Pansy blinked through furious tears that were now blurring her vision as Norah spoke her piece. She was well aware that she couldn't mask the shock that was probably displayed all over her face like a Permanent Sticking Charm.
"Norah," Pansy began hesitantly, filing through the words in her mind to try and find the right way to express the myriad of emotions now flitting through her all at once and overwhelming her.
But Norah held up a hand and rested a hand on her lap, shaking her head vehemently and not letting her say a word.
"It's easier if I show you," she said in a hushed voice. "Why don't you and George come over for dinner on Saturday? We have a Pensieve, it used to belong to Jack before he passed away. I've been meaning to chuck it ever since he died and I've been going through his things, one room at a time, but...considering what my husband is, and the bad memories, ones he'd rather not think about, I think it's best we hang onto it for a while. I think it's best if you see for yourself what happened, rather than me trying to sit here and explain it to you or make Ollie recant it all over again when that will only upset him, and I don't think you and I need to tell my husband about this. He doesn't need the stress, he's got enough of it already, with what happened at the Ministry, then worrying over me these last few days," Norah frowned. "Ollie and I have no plans that night. Come over and eat with us. I'll show you his memory after dinner. I have to stay home for a few days anyway, and there's no doubt in my mind Ollie will be put on a temporary suspension from his job while the Ministry gets this all sorted out," Norah groaned in an exasperated tone.
"I…a-are you sure?" mumbled Pansy in response, finding the turn their conversation had taken to be more than awkward.
"I'm sure," Norah responded, for the first time since they had initiated this conversation to sound a little bit stern towards her. "You're a good person, Pan. And intelligent. So is George. You both deserve to know the truth. I hate to admit it, but I am worried about Ollie," she confessed, shooting Pansy a pained look. "It's up to people he trusts to help him out of his pit of despair and see what a good life he has. I know he's got me but…" Norah paused and picked at her fingernails. "I fear that just me alone, I'm not enough for him. But you and George are."
She kept her left hand resting on the flat of her stomach as she glanced down at the thin plain gold wedding band she wore proudly upon her left ring finger.
A simple ring, not at all flashy in design, but Norah had always been a Veela of simple tastes.
"I hope that when our baby is born, he or she is enough." Norah paused. "Just like I can see you're enough for Weasley."
The statement came seemingly out of nowhere and as Pansy turned to look at her cousin in alarm, she saw the blonde Veela was regarding her, almost as if she saw something within Pansy, something that she could not manage to find out herself.
"Really?" Pansy whispered shyly, suddenly timid, and lowered her gaze, though she could not bring herself to look away from Norah's icy blue eyes as her cousin eagerly nodded.
"Yes," she answered firmly. "I saw the way he looked at you just before he escorted Ollie out here, and it's the way he's looked at you since you two started dating. I know Weasley's captivated by you. I think good things are in your future, Pan. At least...I hope so." Norah hesitated, wondering how best to phrase what was on her mind, and then decided that it was best to just be honest. "You love him, Pan?" she confirmed, feeling as though she already knew the answer, but wanted to be sure for herself.
Pansy nodded. "I do. With all that I am, Norah, though I know I'm not that much for him, not what he deserves, he stays with me." Pansy's soft smile grew a bit wider. She ached for George and wished her boyfriend were here with them now, not caring if Norah saw for herself their affection.
"And what about…" Norah hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip for a moment as the wind took hold of her hair and tousled her blonde pixie's wispy bangs off her forehead. She knew from Ollie that Weasley had given Pansy a key to his flat, and knew that the wizard was serious about her, but neither did she want Pansy rushing into such a huge commitment so soon. But she knew she had to get the question out or her curiosity was sure to kill her. "Oh, bloody hell. Screw this," she exclaimed, much to Pansy's surprise, and threw her hands up in the air in exasperation, throwing all of her cautions to the wind and blurting out her next question. "What about marriage?" she pushed. "Have you…talked about that? Of a future together?" she asked, quietly and confused.
Norah eyed Pansy uncomfortably, hating she had to bring it up. But she had promised Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson when Pansy's parents had come to her and Ollie, fearing for their lives when it was made known that they were targets of the Dark Lord's followers' wrath for speaking against the Dark wizard's methods, that she'd look after Pansy. She had always tried to do what she thought was best for Pansy.
Pansy smiled reassuringly, not bothering to stamp down the hope now swelling in her chest that somehow, things would work out. She hoped that Verity's prediction would ring true.
Pansy smiled, understanding where Norah was coming from.
"One day, maybe, Nor. You and Ollie were young when you married," she teased, squeezing onto Norah's hand reassuringly.
The edges of Norah's lips tugged upward into a sly little smile. "Well, yes, but Ollie and I were made for each other, he and I are different, Pan," Norah protested, scoffing, and rolling her eyes at her cousin's argument. "We didn't see any point in waiting. We thought, middle of a damned bloody war, we might not survive it, and we wanted to make the most of our time together, however long we thought we would have. But…" She paused and acquiesced. "Just be aware if you get pregnant, you'd better be married first, you hear me?" Norah warned, a threatening edge to her tone, that immediately caused Pansy to blush.
"Norah!" Pansy squealed, shocked. "Don't you think you're getting a little ahead of yourself?"
"Am I?" Norah retorted, casting a slightly judgmental gaze over Pansy, the blonde Veela's stare making Pansy feel as small as a Wrackspurt. She was more than aware that Pan and Weasley had been together, a couple of times by now, as Ollie had accidentally dipped into George's mind over breakfast earlier and learned the wizard's lustful thoughts of her cousin. She was sure that it wasn't the first time they'd lain together.
Pansy felt her blush intensify. She suddenly felt like a kid caught in a dalliance and had no idea what to say to Norah now. But she knew that the Veela's words had value, and Norah was right in asking her these questions.
Norah chuckled. "Don't worry, Pan, Merlin's Beard, you look like you just swallowed a wasp," Norah teased, trying to ease her discomfort. "You're an adult now, legally. I just…want you to be safe, to make sure that George Weasley is the right guy for you, that he loves you. I don't want to see you get hurt," Norah tried to set Pansy's mind at ease.
She did not say it in so many words, though Pansy knew by the shadow that flicked across the blonde Veela's face, and she saw the shadow of the harpy flit through her cousin's icy-blue eyes, that Norah was thinking of Draco. How Pansy had come to Norah a couple of days after it had happened, in tears, her heart utterly broken.
Norah did not want Pansy to suffer the same sort of heartbreak a second time. She was jolted out of her thoughts when Pansy gave her hand a little squeeze.
"George loves me, Nor. He does. He loves me, just as I am," Pansy whispered.
"And Draco?" Norah pressed, wincing as the young wizard's name left her lips. She didn't want to ruin the moment, but she had to know of the other wizard that Pansy had once given more to him than just her heart.
Pansy cast her gaze downward, suddenly ashamed to talk about him. "He was a mistake, Norah," she admitted. "I—I was a bloody idiot." She couldn't bring herself to look her cousin in the eye, not wanting to see Norah's hurt look.
It was now Norah's turn to look down, shamefaced.
"No, Pan. You're not a fool, and you could never be. Don't you dare talk like that about yourself or I'll engorge your tongue, cut this dragon shit of always putting yourself down! Self-deprecation's not a good habit for you, Pan," she threatened, grim as a grave, no joking in her eyes. Pansy knew Norah meant every word of her threat. "You're too trusting a lot of the time." A faint smile flitted across Veela's face as Norah thought of how kind and caring her cousin could be to those in her circle who treated her with respect. Then, Norah took Pansy's chin in her gentle grasp and forced the witch to look at her. "But you're not a fool, Pan. Never," she emphasized through clenched teeth. Norah paused, willing her temper to cool a little before deciding to change the subject. "So. Are you and Weasley coming over for dinner on Saturday or not?" She rolled her eyes and chuckled, reaching up to tuck a wisp of hair back behind her ear. "Ollie's made Vimly swear she won't interfere with whatever meal he's planning. Ollie says he wants to cook. Vimly says she'll have plenty of water on standby if he burns anything," Norah teased lightly.
Pansy nodded eagerly. She turned to smile at Norah as Norah rose to her feet, brushing her hands on the seat of her black lounge pants, letting out a low groan. Pansy copied her cousin's movements and rose to her feet as well.
"We'd like that. We'd love to come to dinner, Nor. We'll be there, and…no matter what, things are going to work out, I...I promise. Whatever Ollie's done in the past, that wasn't him, I know it wasn't, but…I'm grateful that you're finally letting me see whatever memories you have of that time. I won't hold it against either of you if it's something especially bad," she promised.
And before Norah could say anything by way of reply, with no warning, she flung her arms around her cousin's neck and hugged her, just as the sound of a shutter flashing reached their ears.
"What on earth…?" Pansy exclaimed angrily in a raised voice, lowering her hand, and squinting her eyes to see better. Her suspicions confirmed, Pansy found herself and Norah the subjects of a photograph that had just been snapped without her consent outside the Burrow, much to her growing cold dread in her stomach and fear.
As her vision slowly but surely cleared and the spots at the edges of her eyes danced away, the result of the bright flash from the camera, she found herself staring into the heavily made-up face of none other than famed tabloid reporter and poison-pen story writer, Rita Skeeter.