School is finally out! I'll be able to write more often. But I'm leaving for New York on Monday and I won't be back until Thursday, so I might not write another chapter until then. But I might also write a chappie over the weekend…
S, this chappie is dedicated to you. Thanks for the gorgeous bangles; the cuts on the knuckles of my right hand have healed up just fine. –grins– Have fun in India. Write in the book! Calleth moi.
DISCLAMER: …don't own Harry Potter…something about JK Rowling…blah…blah…too bad…I wish I owned Harry Potter… You've heard it all before. Yeah, I love Harry Potter, but I don't own it.
A RECAP: Lockhart is getting weird dreams – memories of a dragon expert in Romania named Emily. After Datura, a Healer, uses Legilimency on him to reveal other memories, he finds out that he is a fraud. Datura is angry with him, but Rosie (the motherly Healer) already knew. Lockhart decides that he'll go to Romania. Rosie can't go because she has a family, so he needs to take Datura. But she's hard to convince. (Tell me if the recap helps.)
Here's the outline for this chappie: Boring, weird, crazy, serious, strange, serious, normal. (I was feeling a little wacky when I wrote this. Lots of mood swings.)
"I still don't see why you want to go to Romania. You want to see the girl of your dreams or whatever you call her in your weird little mind, right? You've probably already done that memory modifying charm on her, so why exactly do you need to see her?" Datura was persistently asking this every time Lockhart tried to persuade her to come with him.
Gilderoy didn't really have an answer to this. "I just need to make sure she's okay. And I still don't know what I did to her. Why didn't I ever publish a book on dragons, if I did modify her memory? She was a dragon EXPERT, for Merlin's sake."
"If she's not here in St. Mungo's she's probably okay."
"MERLIN! I hadn't thought of that. I'll go check all the wards." Lockhart scrambled to his feet and was about to stride across the room when Datura grabbed his arm.
"She isn't here. No one else in Spell Damage had their memory modified."
"What if she was already released?" He poked her in the chest.
"You think a Healer would send her off on her own when she didn't even know her own name?"
"AHA!"
"What?"
"Nothing. I just wanted to say 'aha'." He grinned like a little boy.
"Good for you."
"But you said that she's not in St. Mungo's. SO that means that she must be in Romania. SO I have to go. SO you have to take me SO that I don't get lost. Do you think I've used the word 'so' enough?"
"No, you could have fit it in a few more times."
"SO-"
"I was joking," Datura said hastily. "Just shut up so I can think." Lockhart shut up, but he stared at her as intensely as he could. "Stop looking at me."
He grinned. "You can't think when I look at you, too?"
"At least I don't write you lame poems." Datura smirked.
Gilderoy gaped at her. "How do you know about that? You read my mail?"
"Uh…."
"You must be really infatuated."
"I'm not . You're the one who leaves your mail out in the open," she said defensively. "It was in a bright pink envelope! What kind of girls do that?!"
"Now that you've mocked me and my fan mail, you have to do me a favor in return."
"I'm not going to Romania. I'll gladly strip you of your masculinity if you would like, though."
"Please?"
"You want your testicles to go 'snip snip'?!" she gaped incredulously.
"DON'T SAY THAT WORD!" he bellowed.
"What? 'Snip'?"
"NO! THE OTHER WORD."
"'Want'?"
He growled low in his throat. "The word AFTER that."
"'Your'?"
"Actually," he said after a moment of thought, "the next one."
"'Testi-'"
"DON'T SAY IT, WOMAN! DON'T SAY THE WORD!"
Datura's mouth hung open.
Gilderoy shuddered. "It makes me feel all squeamy inside."
She cleared her throat.
"If you MUST say it," Lockhart began loudly again, "just say 'balls.'"
"I'm pretending I didn't hear that, is that okay with you?"
"You can pretend that if you go to Romania with me."
"Can't we go to Italy instead?" she whined. "I've heard that the men there are..." she grinned, "very welcoming. "
"NO."
"Zut, zut, et zut!"
"That's French."
"Fine. Excuse my French or whatever," she snapped.
"Please, please, please?! Come to Romania!" Lockhart made his voice lower, more compelling, he hoped.
"No."
"I'll slip you date rape drugs and then the next thing you know you'll be in Romania." His 'calm' composure was slipping to urgency.
"NO!"
"I was KIDDING!"
"You're not a kid," she laughed. "What are you, forty?"
"EW!" he shrieked. "That's – like – OLD!"
"Yes," she said slowly, "that is OLD."
"Do I look that old?!"
"Uh…"
"What if Emily doesn't recognize me?!"
"Well, I'm sure she's aged some too since you last met." Datura's attempt at being sympathetic wasn't working.
"EW! So she's OLD too?"
"She may have aged more… gracefully then you have," her voice shook and she began to panic. Having a shrieking Lockhart on her hands wasn't something she wanted. Maybe she should just turn him over to the Trainee Healer…
"I'm not graceful?" wailed Lockhart.
"Erm… Amanda…?" The red-haired Trainee Healer poked her head into the ward. "Could you take over?"
Amanda eyed the Lockhart in Distress and shook her head, a scared expression on her face.
"Please? He's famous," yelled Datura, flailing her arms.
"How famous?" she turned her gaze to Datura, who was still flapping her arms about.
"He was the five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charm -"
"Say no more," said Amanda, grinning. "I'll cover for you, but only for a few minutes. He might be dangerous."
"No, he isn't. He might be gay, though."
Datura left the gobsmacked Trainee there with one very unstable patient.
Freedom at last!
xVx
"Would you like a cup of tea, dear?" Rosie asked her.
Datura was over at Rosie's house, at Rosie's request.
"No thank you."
"Sugar?" Rosie ignored Datura's polite decline, though she had heard it. An overflowing spoonful of sugar dumped itself into the delicate china teacup.
Datura sighed and picked up the teacup by its handle, lifting it out of its saucer. She sloshed a tiny bit over the edge and tasted. A strangely nice warmth filled her. "You wouldn't put date rape drugs in here, would you?"
"Excuse me?" Rosie raised an eyebrow.
"Nothing. Just something Lockhart said," she muttered. "Are you going to tell me why you invited me here?"
"Who says I can't invite friends from work?" Rosie put on a scandalized expression. "Biscuit?" She held out a platter innocently. Datura held back a laugh. She was almost as good of an actress as Lockhart was. She took a biscuit and nibbled on the corner of it.
"However ," Rosie said, delicately emphasizing the word, "I was hoping that you might take up Gilderoy's offer."
Datura groaned. "I'm going home." She stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder, reluctantly leaving her tea behind.
"No wait!" cried Rosie. "Please do this for the poor boy. He needs to be reunited with his Emily."
"You should've been a matchmaker, not a Healer."
"But isn't healing hearts the same thing?"
Datura rolled her eyes. Sometimes Rosie was too much of a romantic. She needed to stop being such a schoolgirl and grow up. She saves lives and she still tries to put me on blind dates sometimes. She almost scoffed. Healing nonexistent hearts and healing cuts are complete opposites.
"No. Emotions are involved in one of them. And Lockhart probably doesn't have feelings. Wait. He does. He's in love with himself."
"Don't be insensitive, Datura. You know that he's a good person at heart. He doesn't deserve your dislike," Rosie said wisely as she grasped Datura's shoulders and pushed her back into her seat.
"I don't exactly 'dislike' him. I just humor him. He's an idiot and he deserves not to be taken seriously."
"Everyone deserves to be taken seriously. Especially where love is concerned."
"I don't think he can possibly make any sane woman happy." Datura clutched her teacup so hard that it probably would have shattered if Rosie hadn't removed it from her grasp.
"You enjoy being with him." She didn't say this as an accusation, but it still hit Datura so hard that she was temporarily rendered speechless.
"Yeah, but only when he has a dumb blond moment. I can make fun of him for it. Otherwise he's just annoying and an overwhelming burden that's keeping us from healing those who need it more than he does."
Rosie glanced at her sharply. "He's very deserving, if that's what you mean. He's been through a lot."
"Haven't we all," Datura said dryly. "Anyway, I've really gotta go."
Rosie sighed as Datura got to her feet once more. "I will see you tomorrow."
"Yeah, see you." She pulled the door almost closed, then Rosie heard, "I'll think about the Romania thing."
The door shut with a click.
Rosie smiled as she busied herself with piling the dishes into the sink.
xVx
"Oh, hello Datura!" Gilderoy cried cheerfully from his bed. "I wanted to ask you a question…"
She groaned. "Not the Romania thing again!"
"No, of course that's not what I've been meaning to ask you. I was just wondering… would you rather disco or swing dance?"
"Please tell me you're joking." Datura stared with hollow, blank eyes at Lockhart's strangely serious face.
"I would truly like to know."
"Disco."
"Ah, I see." He was silent for a time.
"See what?" she finally snapped.
"You like to disco," he said simply.
Datura crossed her arms. "I don't like to disco. I had no other better choices to choose from."
He raised both eyebrows. "I see."
She had to restrain herself from yelling, 'Stop saying that!' Instead she tried to regain her composure. "Would you rather wear a poodle skirt or bellbottoms?" she asked coolly instead.
Lockhart shrugged. "The skirt."
"Please tell me you're joking."
"I'm joking."
"That's the truth, right?"
"What do you want me to answer that question with?"
Datura wanted to hit something really hard. "You're an idiot."
He snorted. "I know."
She wanted to say something – anything – to wipe that dumb smirk from his face.
"I'll go to Romania."
"What?" His voice was hoarse, his face crumpled into an unsure, strained expression.
"I. Will. Go. To. Romania. With. You."
She turned, striding to the door, enjoying the satisfying click of her three inch (two inches too high) heels and the memory of his bewildered face still fresh and warm on her eyelids.
