DISCLAIMER:

Romilda: Harry Potter is owned by NO ONE! NO ONE!!

Me: Uh. Actually, he's owned by Jo Rowling.

Romilda: -glares- If I can't own him, no one else can!

Me: Okay… I'll go with that. –nervously edges away-

Chapter 7 (Shortish chappie. Sorry.)

Datura was curled up by the window of her flat with a soft blanket draped over her shoulders. She touched the tip of her wand to the candlewick before her. It flared to life.

She sat there for a while, watching the flame flicker from the wind's playfulness. Then she nudged at some of the wax that had dribbled down the candlestick in beads. It broke off easily. She held the chain of hardened wax out towards the candle flame, only a few centimeters away. A little bubble of hot wax dripped off the end, melted from the close proximity to the flame.

She was playing with fire.

xVx

"Here you go, Gilderoy." Rosie beamed as she placed a tray in front of him. "Your daily yogurt!"

Datura snorted, but when Rosie uncharacteristically glared at her, she coughed loudly, hiding a grin behind her hand. YOGURT?

Lockhart didn't seem ashamed in the least. "Thank you, Rosie," he said, sitting up straight. But inside he was shrieking with joy. YOGURT!

Datura's complete attention was focused on Gilderoy's hair now. How can his hair be so perfect when he's just slept on it? It's all shiny and wavy and soft looking. Mine just looks like a nest when I wake up in the morning. He probably uses up five cans of hairspray a week just to keep it like that. His hair's probably as hard as cement. I feel bad for all of those teen girls who dream of raking their fingers through that 'gorgeous head of hair.'

She sneezed twice. There was some weird scent tickling her nose…

"Oh! Guess what!" he practically screamed at Rosie. He didn't give her a chance to answer. "DATURA SAID YES!"

"That's wonderful, Gilderoy!" She patted him on his head like a proud mother.

What the bloody hell?!

Datura sneezed again. Rosie pressed a handkerchief into her hand and went back to cooing over 'dear Gildy.'

"I think it must have been my charming looks," he said, face strangely serious. He smoothed a hand down the back of his head, making sure that all of her petting hadn't ruined his hair. That wasn't likely at all.

Yep, playing with fire. He was certainly as obstreperous as fire. Had he ever led a quiet life?! He was always boisterous. And annoying. Maybe 'dear Emily' would cure him of that. "I think I'm going to take my lunch break now," mumbled Datura.

"But it's ten in the morning!" protested Rosie.

"Uh… Yeah. I-I erm… I'm going to eat… breakfast now," she replied unsteadily. "Uh. Toodles!"

She slipped out of the door, nearly tripping over a patient who had endured a growth stunting potion.

Datura breathed in the fresh air that was untainted by Lockhart's pungent perfume in gasps. He was wearing a new cologne or something. That was strange. He had always said that he would never change his signature 'golden lilac' scent. And honestly, 'golden lilac'?! Who the hell names put the word 'lilac' next to 'golden'?!

But Datura had more pressing matters to deal with. A wizard had just come in from some faraway country with some bad third degree burns from an annoyed dragon. According to her papers, half of his face had been practically melted off. This was just one situation where some cold water wouldn't help.

Why'd it have to be a dragon burn? Any non-magical burn could be treated in a heartbeat, but this was difficult. Hopefully the guy who was with him when the burning occurred knew about dragon burns. When they live in a place abundant with dragons, shouldn't they know how to cure it?

"You think you can help my friend?" asked a warm voice from behind her. She turned quickly, almost getting whiplash. He was a sandy-haired man, tall and muscular. She could see the ripples under his skin as he held out his hand. She took it. "Jack Hardy, friend of the guy who's face got singed off."

"Datura Henbane. I'm feeling confident that I can fix him up pretty easily," she replied with a cockiness that she didn't really feel.

She was still holding his hand in a firm grasp, and hastily let go.

"The other Healers are reluctant to use any cooling or freezing charms. The quick changes in temperature would do more damage," she said with as much authority as she could muster after having blushed more than she had in the past month. "We're trying to mix up a salve that might help ease the pain. But I doubt that he will ever look the same."

Jack stopped grinning as he took in this information. "So he'll be permanently disfigured? He's not gonna like that. What can I do in the meantime?"

"I think you should stay at the Leaky Cauldron for now. I'll owl you if there is any progress."

"Okay then," he said finally. "Thanks, and it was nice meeting you, Datura."

"Yeah, you too."

What Datura was really thinking was, Fun. More work.

xVx

"So when are you two going to Romania?" said Rosie brightly.

"When do I have a break from work?" asked Datura miserably.

"I can probably get you off all next week."

"Joy," she muttered to herself. "But I have a patient right now with third degree magical burns. If there was such thing as a fourth degree, he would have it. I don't think he'll be cured by next week."

"Okay," said Lockhart slowly. "After he dies, then."

Datura smacked him. She wasn't surprised when he let out a little squeal of pain.

"I need time to get ready, anyway," he quickly said. "We have to figure out exactly where in Romania Emily is. Plus I have to figure out what kind of weather there is over there."

"Oh, really?" She was impressed that he had taken all this into consideration.

"Yeah, that way I can figure out what clothes to bring. I don't want to be wearing heavy woolen majestic purple cloaks if it's hot out there. In that case, I'd be wearing my silk white robes with golden trim."

Datura was getting ready to hit him again, when Rosie said, "He has a point, you know."

"You need to go shopping anyway. I don't want to be associated with you in more than a Healer-and-patient way if you're wearing rainbow socks and shorts."

"I don't own rainbow socks and shorts." Her eyes flashed dangerously at him. "I'll set your closet on fire if you insult the way I dress."

"I have multiple closets," he said with an easy grin. "Five closets full of clothes I've already worn, but can't bear to throw away, one full of book-signing clothes, two full of dressy clothes, one full of normal, everyday clothes, one full of-"

"I don't care. Just shut up or I'll light them all on fire!"

"Datura, that's not a nice thing to say," admonished Rosie.

"I don't care," she snapped. "How did he get so many closets here?! Each patient gets a tiny space for clothes! How can he get a million closets?"

He smiled. "I've got connections."

More like obsessed-stalker-fans.

Don't worry about dear Datura. She's not a pyro.

'Henbane' is another plant. It's also poisonous. (And sometimes goes by the name of 'Henbell' or 'Hogbean.') All parts of it are poisonous and are legally restricted in some countries.) No, I don't know that much about plants. That's what books are for. I actually think that it's a pretty plant. It has yellowish-cream rounded petals with veins of dark purple. I turned to the page and there it was. 'Datura Henbane' actually sounds sort of good. At least, that's what I think. Tell me what you think.

Reviews would be lovely. (Tell me if I suck or if you're getting bored with this fanfic.)

I'm taking my laptop to New York with me so I can write, but it doesn't have internet access, so I won't be able to post while I'm there. I'll post when I get back, though.

-R