Still, Rose and Chessie are my own creations. Everything else is J.K. Rowling's. I am super jealous.
Rose's face was unusually pale, and her cheeks flushed a bright pink. When Chessie put a hand to her forehead, the young girl was hot and clammy. It had started about two days ago, but had gotten bad enough that the child would just lay there in a small ball and whimper. Chessie kept thinking she needed to find Lupin or that pink-haired auror. They'd know what to do, and if not, well, Lupin was one of the most famous werewolves of the time. He'd have connections…hopefully.
But where to go? She knew that the huge werewolf bite scar would draw questions, and she didn't want to get investigated by protective services. She wasn't even Rose's legal guardian, technically. So muggle clinics were out. She hadn't gone through the brick wall behind the Leaky Cauldron yet, not with Rose. She wished in retrospect that she'd dragged them both through immediately. Rose couldn't come with her though, being almost delirious and completely muggle. Actually…that might not be true. Her muggle family had a history of pumping out a witch or wizard every other generation or so.
Chessie hadn't been back in the wizarding world for nearly three weeks, since the bite. And before that, in over two years. She had a gut feeling that the average wizard would be less than receptive to her plight, and one look at the scars on both of them would scare the good-hearted ones away before she could tell the story. On the other hand, Rose wasn't doing very well and Chessie would just have to put aside her prejudices and concerns regardless of how much she hated to. And as steeped in the wizarding world as Lupin was, the only way to find him would be to reenter the world she forsook a few years ago.
Groaning, she stood up, stretching her sore back and legs. Cobblestones were not an adequate replacement for a good mattress. Rose shivered in her sleep despite being covered up by a fleece blanket, two jackets, and one of Chessie's bohemian skirts she'd found behind a store awhile back. Picking the child up and laying the briefcase across her awkwardly, Chessie started towards the run-down pub that held the entrance to the magical world.
She stood in front of the Leaky Cauldron half an hour later, as the sun was going down and a light drizzle was beginning to fall. This was the hard part. If Chessie remembered correctly, her wand was in the bottom of the briefcase. Not very helpful. Rose coughed a few times and mumbled something unintelligible. Gritting her teeth, Chessie used her butt to walk backwards through the chipped green door, and managed to get through the pub unnoticed. The place was packed and buzzing, unusual for that time in the late evening, and Chessie was overwhelmed for a few moments by all the scents and noise. The pub wasn't this obnoxious when she was last there. There must be a special going on or something. By the way Rose unconsciously wrinkled her nose, she felt the same way. Deciding to just breathe later, she weaved through the crowd to the back door, where another problem occurred. How to get in?
Chessie leaned Rose, still bundled up in a cocoon, against some trashcans in a corner. I'm laying a sick child against a trashcan. I make such a good parent. She tried to recall the pattern of the bricks to open the entranceway, but was drawing a blank. It had been too long. As a teenager, she had been given a bag of money and sent to do her own shopping before every schoolyear, but since that knowledge had ceased being relevant, it had been forgotten.
Ultimately, she didn't even need to get her wand out. A portly man with a dumb-looking bowler hat opened the wall and passed into Diagon Alley without so much as a glance at the werewolves. Chessie grabbed Rose hastily and followed him, barely making it through before the wall reformed with an ominous finality. The main street lay before her with several wizards strolling to and forth under umbrellas.
The drizzle from a few minutes ago turned into a full downpour in the middle of Chessie's idle stroll down the main street, and she dove into a doorway with an overhang with a cry of dismay. Rose whimpered, but didn't open her eyes. Not a good sign. The older werewolf put her hand against Rose's forehead and almost checked for burn marks when she removed it a few seconds later. The girl's fever had worsened, and she was covered in icy sweat. Chessie sighed and settled in, tucking Rose in neatly between her and the wall to shield her from the cold rain.
She found herself beginning to doze off several times as well, despite her best efforts to stay alert. Chessie drew Rose closer, tucking the tiny girl between her own body and the wall of the porch, and leaned back against the door with an exhausted yawn. They needed to find Lupin, but it had been such a long day. Perhaps just resting for a few minutes would be alright. She closed her eyes with a sigh.