"Bloody hell," I cursed loudly, receiving startled looks from my own table, and I quickly wrapped my hand in the closest piece of clothe. My lap napkin.
"Looks like you got that break you wanted," the nurse said immediately, watching my antics with an amused smile. She wouldn't suggest helping me until I asked for it. I frowned darkly, huffing.
"Just fix it, you're the nurse," I said finally, thrusting my hand at her. The other three were sniffing their food with disgust, nose wrinkled in a most wolfish-fashion. I sighed inwardly, knowing my scowl was nothing less than monstrous at the moment. Somethings never went away. The man on my right suffered from a slight in his spine now, unnoticeable unless you were told about it, and the two women across from me both had to have their jaws fixed after every transformation. I myself, I bled far too much for anyone's liking. I could afford the dental bills, as well my house elf had fixed my teeth when I'd charmed them accidentally, he was a good dentist. It was a blessing and a curse at the same time, my parent's money.
I donated monthly to the hospital due to my guilt. Well, that and the fact I ruined their hospital rooms monthly.
Nurse fixed my hand in a jif, and I snatched my drink towards me when she released it, thanking her quickly. My other hand was otherwise busy, encased in a wrapping of guaze and surgical wrap to keep my fingers from popping joints. This business of being a werewolf was far more a disgusting process than one supposed. The man, Rupert, by my side, patted my mummified hand knowingly, wiggling his own fingers and I couldn't help but roll my eyes.
"So, Nurse." The woman sitting directly across from me, a robust and broad shouldered lass with a wild tangle of mess-red hair, as deep as cherry-gold, smiled toothily at our keeper, getting a goofy giggle from her bench partner. "Which kind of weather can we expect today? A light drizzle of animosity, or perhaps another summer shower of 'Sherman's Anti-Werewolf Concoction'?"
"You know, they really ought to change their slogan from whatever it is to 'Because you'd rather smell like a wet dog than be one.'" Rupert piped in gruffily, shovelling a spoon of oatmeal into his mouth and washing it down with his morning tea before it hit his tongue. I snorted loudly, and the shy woman, no, girl, giggled shrilly, causing the nurse to laugh herself.
"I plan to stay dry today, thank you." Nurse began, watching Rupert with a certain, horrified interest. I had to admit, watching him eat was quite a bit more entertaining than anything going on in the room. It was near on dead quiet except for the fit of laughing the girl had gone into. She stuffed her fist into her mouth, and slouched down into her seat. "Although," the nurse's face became quite serious, looking up from her hands briefly, "the ministry's instituted a new accordance for.. minorities."
"What kind of minorities?" Rupert drilled, swallowing so swiftly that I thought he'd choke. Rupert was quite influencial in the wizarding community, despite his disability, having provided jobs and economy for a good deal of witches and wizards otherwise unable to achieve jobs. He knew how to get what he wanted. Many of them included men and women in our own condition, as well as vampires and other 'half-breeds.' He had hired so many over-whelming numbers of outcasts, that people had begun to realize how large the minority really was, and many were hired for outside jobs when their skills were realized.
"Well, its more like minority. Umbridge's involved, I'm afraid." Nurse folded her hands together and allowed them to finally fall to her lap. She almost looked like an admonished child until she put them on top of the table top once again.
"Heavens, not her again," the robust woman across from me spoke again, and her bench partner had a complete look of confusement upon her face. She was realitvely knew to the Process, having only transformed three times thus far.
"She's the biggest obstical between you and a normal life," I butted in, looking pointedly at her. "Not your condition; she hates us."
Nurse had been speaking about the former proticals and Rupert instantly barked, "I know the old proticals. I want to know the new ones. Bugger, I was bitten before you learned what those proticals were. Get on with it so we can go try and sort of out what's left of our life. What's she done this time, take away our rights to have house-elves and owls? Too dangerous to send mail to our mums, and have the company of someone who doesn't judge us?" I wasn't the only one who lived alone with a house-elf it seemed. Lonely people think alike. "I've two children I have to get back to. If she tries taking them from me one more time, I swear." Maybe not.
"She tried taking your children?" the youngest asked and he scowled, nodding. "Not her specifically, but I'm sure she intiated it," he replied before motioning for Nurse to continue.
"They are some new restrictions," she said biting her lip in a grimace. "Instead of just checking in with the ministry every six months, you're required to go every month, or two months depending, and basically telling them that you're alive still."
"Once a month, is that it? I don't see a problem in that personally, not many werewovles have social lives it'll intrude upon." I replied conversationally and she grimaced once again.
"They take a blood test now, they've werewolf officials like me down there pricking your initial bites, testing whether or not you've taken human blood during your latest transformation. That sounds reasonable I know, but you know how magic is in the blood. They check to see what spells you've preformed as well, and they've put a restriction on the enchantments werewolves can cast."
"Merlin forbid I summon a tea pot now, I'm guessing?"
"Exactly." A collective sigh went about the table, the girl finally grasping the situation she'd been so unceremoniously thrust into. "And it sounds like they may try getting your two girls again." Rupert jumped to his feet, rocking the table slightly, and we quieted immediately. "They may not have been too concerned for your children's safety before, because they knew you had transformed, but she's got the counsil believing that bitten people have complete control over rational thought and actions when the full moon's out. Quoting a ministry worker, 'They only howl at the moon to give us a bit of a scare.' That was after a small little meeting that she headed."
"Merlin's beard," I muttered. That was saying he killed his wife on purpose. The broad-shouldered woman gave him a small push towards the door. He took off running, as if his very life depended on it, and a head medi-witch spoke sharply to him as he passed, but he paid no heed.
"He's lost enough," the woman said, as if she needed an excuse for her actions. "We all have, but his kids are all he has. It's like you losing your house-elf, er, What's-His-Name?"
"Too true," I responded, my stomach clenching at the thought of Golby not being there to welcome me home.
"Ah.." Nurse began once more and all of us looked at her once more. "there's a new process of being released from the hospital as well. It's not drastic, but I think you might find it a bit of an inconvience when you get to level A.. Someone has to be there for you now, to pick you up. Authorizing that you're completely human once again."
"Well obviously I'm not jumping at your throat to spawn another 'creature of the night.' Besides, what do they care, Sherman's is supposedly so effective that one little spray on a full fledged werewolf and it turns back into a babe version of the human within." Nurse snorted this time, and I finally returned the smile she had given me when I had first pulled myself up off the floor earlier that morning. "Anyways, I'd like to get it over, and go home then. Are we all done eating?"
All four of us were on our feet before I could think 'Quidditch.' The very concept of leaving the stuffy tea-room gave me a good feeling, a sense of hope and justice. Once I was out of this hospital, I was back to my normal life, an inconvience out of my way.
"CHAPERONE? Oh, no, I'll show you shouting. I'll shout my way to the Minister's office if I have to. You get me my- GET ME A FLOO TO MY NANNY." It seemed Rupert had reached floor A, and as we reached the stairwell to C, his voice floated up clearly. My eyebrows raised and wondered how many bones he had broken. He had always been a very good father, I had known him from the few social events that included half-things like ourselves, and his daughters adored him. I knew for a fact, he'd murder Cornelius Fudge for approving the Restriction Acts, and ruining Umbridge for life (he would never hit a woman) if he lost his children.
I, however, didn't seem to have the problem of not having a chaperone. However short, Golby's ears were highly visible as he waded through the base level's waiting room when we finally reached it. He attached himself to my robes like a leech, fisting the material and warding off anyone who walked too close. "Feeling good, Mistress?" he asked immediately, straining to see through the bandages on my hands. He had a look on his face that clearly said he imagined himself a better nurse than the one at my side. And sadly enough for her, he more than likely was in some degrees.
The Restrictions had been put into force at half past three this morning, around which I had finally been dying down in my thrashing, and it must have been the fact that they were so new that no one opposed Golby 'leading' me out of the Hospital dspite the fact that he trailed half a centimetre behind me, still latched onto me like a lost child. I felt whole-heartedly happy about the fact, my affection for the house-elf running deep. He'd been much apart of my life for so many years, knew me so well, that it was uncanny. He could read my mind it seemed like, however he didn't seem to read it now.
"Where's my wand?" I rummaged through my pockets, stopping in my tracks. "I can't go home without my wand. I can't even wash dishes without it, for Merlin's sake." Golby slipped it out of his pocket and I thanked him generously, praising him for out-smarting whomever he'd outsmarted. They kept these things locked up in the front desk. Of course, the lock-breaking skills I had taught him as a small child, involving a bobby pin and a tap-dancing jinx had worked just splendid I was sure.
We had never recieved lettes of under-aged magic for that, most of it contributed to our house-elf. "Reminds me, did I receive any mail whilst I was gone?"