Disclaimer: I obviously own none of the rights to the Harry Potter universe or the cover image, but the plot is mine
AN: Finally they meet! Squeeeeee...
"Come quick!"
I am tucked under a favourite tree near the cabin, enjoying a peaceful afternoon, when the shout startles me from my peaceful reading. It is late afternoon and all my chores are finished. Minerva is gone, climbing to the top of the nearest peak to gather some alpine herbs for our stores.
"Miss!?" The voice rises in pitch. Panic and adrenaline are shot through the childish voice.
I stumble from my shady perch and see Lyanna, Lavender's younger sister, looking frantically around our small clearing.
"Here!" I call abandoning my spot and tucking the book away hurriedly. I move quickly towards her assessing for damage and anything amiss.
"There's been a hunting accident mistress!" Lyanna looks close to tears and she's wringing her hands in the tiny apron affixed to her waist. Her cheeks are flushed from the uphill climb and I can see the tear-tracks on her grubby face. Her fair curling hair is laden with twigs and her hazel eyes are wide with panic.
"The - there are men! At the inn! One of them is terrible hurt mistress!" Unburdened of her message she sags slightly.
"Let me gather my things and we can head back!" I dash inside doing the mental calculations for what might have gone wrong and begin grabbing items from various spots and cupboards. Guns, arrows, possible infection and fractured bones, there are too many possibilities for what we may be called to fix. Minerva will not be back for hours yet and she may choose to stop and sleep the night in the woods. It can be a treacherous climb downhill in the daylight and worse in the dimming light of evening.
Time is of the essence and I have most of what I could possibly need. No time to waste now!
I hurry outside the cabin and motion for Lyanna to follow me back into town. We rush through the familiar trail. Tripping occasionally in the dim light as the shadows begin to lengthen.
The last of the sun is disappearing over the back fields by the time we hurry into town and Lyanna grabs for my hand leading me towards the inn.
"MOTHER OF FUCK-!"
The shout is the first thing I hear as I rush into the back room. Lavender is white as a sheet as she opens the door and ushers me inside. The patrons in the front room are hushed and crowded around their drinks whispering amongst themselves.
The moment I step into the room several men turn to face me – all scruff and brightly coloured hunting garb. These men were nobles then, men from the village were drably dressed at best and would never dress-up for the common practice of hunting.
"Pull it together man!" This from a stern voice nearby.
"Should have stayed astride your horse." A snide voice adds from the corner.
I identify my patient quickly. He's draped over the kitchen table and swearing up a storm. I disregard his appearance and hone in on the injury. His thigh has been ripped open, the wound is jagged and fresh. The skin is torn but the blood has been reduced thanks to the applied pressure. It appears that whatever inflicted this injury missed the major artery. Thank goodness.
One of his companions takes a swig from the bottle and passes it to the man on the table who drinks deeply. I snag the bottle as it passes and press it into a clean cloth.
"Fuck you Malfoy – going after the beast was your idea! FUUUC-" His swearing is cut off in shock as I apply the alcohol to his open wound. I shoo away the nearest men and begin pulling items from my bag.
"Christ, how much have you got stashed in that bag? It's damn near bottomless!" My patient goggles at the bag.
I smother a smile and compile the items I'll be needing.
"This is going to hurt again, I need to cleanse the wound and check to make sure all the bleeding has been staunched." I've begun cutting away at the rest of his britches and prodding his leg to fully understand the damage.
The damage appears worse than it is and soon enough I am stitching his wound.
"Mother of creation!" He rears up from the table when I take the needle to his flesh. Despite the numbing agent the pain is still unpleasant.
"Please – stay still! You wouldn't want to tear any of the stitches and it will be over soon enough. Lie down!" I press a hand to his chest, pushing him to lay back on the table leaning over him again.
"I promise madam, that if you stay as you are, I will not move a muscle." This comment is addressed to my chest. I take a minute to process what he's said. His pain glazed eyes are riveted to the opening of my shirt.
Taking stock of my outfit I realise that I am dressed lightly in britches and a loose shirt, my breasts bound by a cloth. Leaning over my patient has exposed a generous view of my breasts.
One of the hunting party guffaws at the comment and muffled snickers come from the rest of the men.
"My nut-brown forest maiden." His speech is slurring now and I snatch the bottle of spirits from his grasp and hand it to the nearest man who swigs from the bottle happily.
"I think, ser, that you will survive." I say tartly.
"You just wanted a pretty scar to show off to the ladies." A man steps into my sightline and I nearly stop breathing. I have never seen a man as beautiful as this. In the dim light of the room he had remained hidden in the shadows.
The nearby candles spark in his eyes like some predator just outside of the light. For all my blustering, I find myself now stuttering and frozen in place. His hair is flaxen and even in the darkness I appreciate how it falls carelessly into his eyes. He runs his fingers back through his fringe and flicks his eyes to the wounded man on the table.
Underneath the male bravado from his previous statement, I can see the slight panic in the quick flare of his nostrils.
I blink away the fog in my brain and get back to business.
"He should be kept here overnight and not moved for the next few days. I will attend him when he needs his dressings changed. You should be able to return home in a sennight."
"You can keep me in bed any day." My patient comments, nearly comatose and still mumbling innuendos. His comments interrupt the locked gaze with the blonde predator.
"Amen," mutters one of the men at my back and I glance back sharply to find him eyeing my ass. He raises his hands and eyebrows simultaneously but still wears his shit-eating grin when I glare at him.
I turn back towards the tall blonde. His eyes linger on my figure, travelling hotly from my hips up towards the collar of my loose shirt, finally resting on my flushed face.
"Zabini, Pucey, you'll stay with Potter. The rest of you prepare the horses, we return to the … estate." He nods at me again and passes towards the door, stopping to hand something to one of the men. He bows his head to speak with them, and I take note of how tall he is by comparison.
If not for the command of these men, he was still clearly their leader. He carried himself with a cat-like grace. His wide shoulders take up much of the doorway but his body is lithe. He glances back at me, pauses his eyes searching mine and then turns quickly to leave, his men following fast behind.
Later after I've gathered my things, I accept a mug of beer from Lavender who is making eyes at Zabini, the ass appreciator…
"Miss?" I turn from my observations to the other man, Pucey.
"For your troubles from his … lordship." He extends his hand discreetly to me while eyeing the other patrons. I take the small purse in hand and nod, not wanting to check what my services are worth, but recognizing the acknowledgment of my skills and time.
The patient, Potter, has been safely installed in one of the rooms upstairs and I take a moment to remind his companions to keep an eye on him in case he vomits in his sleep. He had imbibed more alcohol than was strictly necessary for pain relief.
I nod at Pucey as I leave and see Lavender has stationed herself on Zabini's lap to pour his wine…
Despite the late hour, I do not feel comfortable accepting a room for myself and instead settle into one of the inviting armchairs by the fire. I fall asleep almost instantly, sometimes I would love to have a quiet day with no drama. But what fun would that be.
AN: At last, a sighting of the illusive hunter prince! Review, review, review! #shameless