NOTES:
We meet an Auror! And Draco Malfoy, ferret extraordinaire, makes an appearance!
DEDICATION:
ALL MY SOBETTES!! You girls rule the universe!
DISCLAIMER:
Figure it out yourself, yo.
~*~ War Wounds ~*~
It was a typical day in Knockturn Alley, and in a dark, grubby little pub known as the Shifty Niffler, two large, blockish young men were sitting and drinking together, talking amongst themselves.
The door to the pub opened, and a young woman, looking startlingly out of place and yet completely in her element, sauntered in. Her jade-green eyes swept over the leering, interested faces of the men in the pub, an expression of hauteur on her even, striking features, and she tossed back a mane of jet-black hair as she walked right up to the bar, sitting down dauntlessly next to one of the two troll-like men and ordering a cold Butterbeer with sherry.
She was dressed impeccably in form-fitting black satin robes, laced fashionably at the bodice with silver cords, but for all that, she looked like a woman of action. When the bartender handed her the drink, she lazily waved her wand over the shiny black dragonhide handbag at her side, and exactly two sickles and ten knuts came out, and landed in the bartender's outstretched hand. The price of the drink, and a decent tip. She gave the bartender a curt nod, and sipped her drink in silence.
It was about a minute before the man who was sitting next to her noticed her. Gregory Goyle cocked his square head at her for a moment, and then a glint entered his piggish eyes and a leer appeared on his face. The woman noticed all of this out of the corner of her eye, but paid no heed, continuing to daintily sip her drink, casually flicking a lock of hair out of her face.
"Hello there… what's your name?"
The woman deliberately turned to look at Goyle, and quirked an eyebrow, "Ravyn."
Goyle grinned rather stupidly, "A bird… a name of a bird, for a bird… I like!"
Ravyn rolled her eyes very slightly, and acknowledged the rather backward compliment with a curt nod of her head, turning back to her drink and ignoring him. Goyle scratched his head stupidly, then leered again.
"Want to join us, have some fun?"
"Depends on what kind of fun, wouldn't you say?" Ravyn shot back, raising one eyebrow as she calmly folded her hands in her lap, looking at the two thickset men.
"We just talking… but we can try to think up something more interesting, can't we, Crabbe?" Goyle addressed the other man. Crabbe nodded enthusiastically.
"Oh, don't mind me… carry on with your conversation, by all means," Ravyn said sweetly, "I'll be perfectly fine right here."
The two nodded stupidly, and both leered at the young woman before doing just as she said, and going back to their drinks and conversation.
The woman slowly sipped her Butterbeer with sherry, a bit at a time, and by the time she had finished with her drink, the two men had each had two more. She stood up to leave, and Goyle grabbed her arm.
"Hey where d'you think yer goin'? We don see pretty girls much…" the young man slurred, and Ravyn's eyes hardened from leaf to emerald.
"I have finished my drink. Now, release my arm." Her tone was imperious, and immediately, the other occupants of the pub realized that she was like most of them after all, a Slytherin. And accosting a strange Slytherin, even if one was a Slytherin him or herself, was never a good idea.
But Goyle did not seem to realize these things, and merely kept his grip on the young woman Ravyn's arm. He muttered something about getting nosh from a pretty bird, and Ravyn, without skipping a beat or batting an eyelash, had whipped out her wand, and coolly hit him with a Stunning spell.
And… to hers and everyone else's surprise, hers had not been the only voice to cry out the incantation of 'Stupefy!' A new voice, this one a smooth male baritone with an aristocratic drawl, had uttered the spell at the same time.
Goyle fell heavily to the ground, and Crabbe's face took on a look of terror as a tall, silvery-blond young man with sharp features and storm-gray eyes strode forward, and fixed upon him and the fallen Goyle an icy glare.
Ravyn turned around, and studied the newcomer for a moment. The blond man gave Crabbe a look and an order to get the hell out, and the larger fellow immediately obeyed, taking his buddy with him. And then, the blond man turned to Ravyn, a look of haughty detachment on his face to match hers, and gave her a polite, blank smile and nod.
"I do apologize for the unpardonable behavior of those two miscreants," he drawled, "That was inexcusable for them to accost you like that… and I hope that you are all right, Miss…"
"De Borgia," Ravyn replied immediately, proffering the hand that was not holding her wand, "Ravyn De Borgia."
"Charmed to make your acquaintance," he said smoothly, bringing her hand to his lips and laying a lingering kiss on the knuckles, "I am Draco…"
"Malfoy. I know who you are," she said with a slight quirk of her eyebrows, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips.
"Odd… and I didn't know you," he murmured, a note of surprise in his voice. She gave a cool little shrug.
"I don't find it odd at all. You are you… and I am me. You naturally are the type that more people know of… and I am naturally the type who knows of more people."
"Intriguing statement," Draco looked at her curiously, "If I may enquire, what is it that you are doing here?"
"Getting a drink," Ravyn replied immediately, "And as I am finished right now, I believe that I shall leave. It was a pleasure, Mr. Malfoy." Putting her wand in her pocket and grabbing her handbag, Ravyn moved towards the door, quite aware of Draco's eyes following her, a wary but very interested look in their gray depths. Looking over her shoulder, she gave him a slight nod.
"Until we meet again, farewell."
* * *
Cassius Warrington was peacefully asleep that afternoon. He was still healing from the nasty sore on his side, and although Fallon no longer needed to constantly clean the sore with healing potion, he still did not waken.
It had been a week now, and she was starting to worry somewhat. His fever had gone down… he should wake up soon. But during all the hours that she attended to him (which were considerable), he never opened his eyes.
By means of special potions and charms, exclusive knowledge in a Healer's realm, she was able to keep him nourished, just as if he were conscious and eating and drinking normally. But what she was concerned about… was if he developed bedsores and atrophy from lying in bed for such an extensive period of time.
His bruises were starting to heal, and though it would still be time before the pain would go away, it was all right to touch him now, and so, to prevent the negative consequences that would arise from lying in one position for so long, she cut away the rest of his robes, all but the bare essentials, and twice a day, turned and cleaned his skin with a washcloth.
This afternoon was no different.
Carefully, she turned him with one hand as the other one wiped down his body with the washcloth. Arms, legs, stomach, chest, back. Shoulders, neck, and face.
She dipped the washcloth into the warm herbal water again, and wrung it out gently. Crushing a handful of mint sprigs for their oil over the damp white cotton, she wiped his face. Chin, nose, and cheeks.
Fallon had just brushed her hand over his forehead, gently moving his hair out of the way so she could wipe his brow, when she looked down, and froze. Brown met brown…
He was awake.
Eyes looked into hers, staring… and then, one hand slid up and closed around her wrist, holding it in place where her hand was hovering over his face.
He smirked.
She was the first to speak, "You're awake. How are you feeling?"
His smirk widened, "Hello… and who might you be?" he purred.
She raised an eyebrow, "You didn't answer my question… how are you feeling?"
"I would feel much better if you would tell me who you are."
Fallon rolled her eyes and put on a fake, exaggeratedly perky voice, "I'm Fallon and I will be your Healer today," she chirped. Then, she scowled somewhat at him. "Now, be serious, and tell me how you feel. I can't help you otherwise, you know."
He merely smirked that infuriating smirk at her, as his dark eyes raked her form from the top of her head, down her torso, to her feet, standing next to his bed, before traveling up again and focusing on the hand that held the washcloth.
"You seem to have me at a disadvantage, sweet."
Sweet? She frowned somewhat, "What are you talking about? And don't call me 'sweet'."
His roughened fingertips on her wrist caressed the pulse point under the delicate skin, and he gave her a smarmy grin. "Why, you're far more clothed than I am…"
She glared now, and snapped shortly at him, "Well just because you're bedridden for a long time and need to be kept from getting bedsores and such doesn't mean that I am. And surely you don't expect me to attend to you wearing nothing but my knickers!"
He leered at her, "Now there's an interesting thought…"
"Now look here, I'm not some floozy that you pick up in Knockturn Alley!" Fallon hissed, "And don't for one moment think that I'm going to tolerate such impertinence on your part, patient or no."
He smirked again. Infuriatingly. "Do you have a boyfriend?"
"Is it any of your business?" Fallon was rapidly losing her patience. She was glad that she didn't know him well at all in school. What a git!
"Well, it would be rather unfortunate if I were to shag you, and then get butchered by some other bloke," he said thoughtfully.
"And what makes you think that I would ever shag you?!" Fallon's eyes were blazing dark flames now. He shrugged, and gave her another irritating grin.
"Well, if I recall correctly, I was wearing full robes… but that doesn't seem to be the case any more."
"I had to clean your blasted wound! And turn you so you don't get bedsores!" Fallon hissed, the hand that he held clenching into a fist.
"Nevertheless… can you blame me for getting ideas? Being waited on hand and foot by a beautiful woman, and just about naked…" he trailed off, and then leered at her, "I think I'm going to enjoy it here… can't wait 'til I recover… and with an angel like yourself tending to me, I'm sure that I will be all better very soon."
His hand was pulling insistently on her wrist, trying to tug her towards him even as she backed away. With a quick flick of her hand, he had released her, and even as she had wrenched her wrist from his grasp, her other hand had drawn her wand, and before he could blink, he had been hit by an Immobilizing spell.
"Bravo, Fallon," an amused voice called out from the entrance of the tent, and Fallon whirled around.
"Ravyn!" she greeted her friend with a small smile, and walked over to the entrance of the tent to speak to the other woman, "My favorite Auror… what brings you here?"
"Just coming by… Kate told me that she told you about a potential spy."
"Yes…" Fallon nodded, "Any new leads on that?"
The Auror gave an elegant little shrug, "One. Minor. Went to the pub earlier today… overheard only a little, though. The people talking weren't… very intelligent."
"Oh?"
"All we know now is that the spy is male. Gregory Goyle referred to him as 'a bloke'. But… I've a feeling that I will be able to get more information in the near future," Ravyn smirked very slightly. "The whole thing wasn't completely a waste of time. I met somebody."
"Oh, who did you meet?" Fallon asked curiously. Ravyn grinned.
"Draco Malfoy. He will certainly be acquainted with parties who have access to necessary information."
"And you think he will give it to you… or introduce you to those parties?" Fallon asked quizzically. Ravyn smirked.
"Oh, he will… if I have anything to say about it. This should be fun. And…" here Ravyn winked mischievously, "He's quite cute, too."
~*~ End Chapter Three ~*~
Okay! That's chapter three… review!
