Chapter 11
The women stared at each other in silence. Neither moved until Emily held out the small bag of potions Farha Patel left her. The younger woman snatched the bag from her and peered inside at the contents.
Emily had pictured Harry's paramour as a younger version of her grandmother, but that was far from the case. There was a touch of the older woman in her, but the similarities seemed to end with the coppery skin. The younger healer was shorter and thinner, with smaller hips and breasts and a softer expression, even if she did try to harden it as she peered up at Emily while she silently searched through her bag.
The short silence annoyed Emily so she let the other woman win and spoke first.
"My appointment with your grandmother wasn't supposed to be until Wednesday," Emily said.
"Ideally you will not be attending that," Priya said. She was unloading the contents of the potions bag and lining them up on the table, examining how much was left in each of them.
"Is that a threat?" Emily retorted. Priya snorted.
"If that makes you feel better," she said. Emily's eyes narrowed. She wasn't used to people standing up to her. In fact, she wasn't sure she could even remember the last time someone had openly threatened her. In her mind she made the younger woman scream in agony and kneel before her. But that was nothing more than a figment of her imagination.
She wouldn't treat Farha Patel's granddaughter that way. Even if it would be an easy way to get out of her current predicament. Somehow, she doubted Harry would make his response painless. Still, she'd been too combative for most of her life to let it slide.
"Girl," she growled but Priya only laughed and cut her off.
"In body I think I have at least five years on you right now," Priya said as she finished the examination of the potions.
"I don't see how that matters," Emily said, finding herself oddly deflated as the woman stared at her.
"It doesn't," she said. "But it took the wind out of your sails in a hurry. Most women would rather be thought of as younger than they are."
"Most women are idiots," Emily said.
"Still, a third attempt at your twenties. To some that would be a dream," Priya said.
"I'd rather have a chance to fix the first attempt than a third attempt," Emily said.
"I'm sure," Priya responded.
"Is everything in order with the potions? I'm taking them exactly as she told me to," Emily said.
"No you aren't," Priya said.
"Yes I am," Emily scoffed.
"Then you should have far less of the pain suppressor than you do," Priya said.
"Haven't needed it," Emily lied, looking away from the other woman.
"If you insist," Priya said, her tone even and disbelieving.
"I would know," she said.
"I didn't say you wouldn't," Priya said, keeping her tone as condescending as possible. Emily knew she was doing it intentionally, but it still bothered her. She didn't quite understand what this other woman saw her as. A romantic rival? A problem? A bitchy uncooperative patient? She wasn't naive enough to think she was here on her grandmother's orders.
"What do you want?" Emily snapped.
"I want to know why you aren't taking the pain potion," Priya asked.
"I don't see how that's any of your business. You are not my Healer," Emily replied, fighting against the rather unnecessary anger that rose in her. Priya merely raised her brows at her and crossed her arms over her chest. She wore an expression that led Emily to believe she would be able to wait far longer.
"From what my grandmother told me you were essentially flayed while you were a spirit. And that the wounds were almost terminal in your current state. She claims she couldn't fix all the scarring," Priya said.
"Scars don't bother me," Emily retorted.
"You may think differently if they were visible," Priya said. "But you have the luxury of not being branded."
"Are you fighting his battles for him now?" Emily retorted.
"Harry doesn't think of it as a brand. You've been in his head enough to know that."
"He was a teenager for most of it, I tried to not stay there longer than I had to. I'm sure you can gather what goes on in that mind of his," Emily scoffed, annoyed at the memories that Priya's offhanded comments had brought to the surface of her mind. But they were easy enough to suppress.
"Fair enough," Priya said. "Although I never did get him to try Polyjuice."
"Do I want to know?" Emily asked.
"Witch Weekly," Priya shrugged.
"That magazine must have gone downhill since the last time I read it. Normally it was cooking and potions recipes. Sometimes you'd luck into some interesting new charms to make cleaning easier," Emily responded, a touch of disdain in her voice.
"Now it's sex recipes and dating tips," Priya responded.
"Sounds more interesting," Emily shrugged her shoulders and looked away from the healer. She peered around the room, checking to see if there was anything that resembled a drink left over, but alas, the elves had cleared everything out except for her potions. Emily wondered just when they'd managed to do that, and found herself annoyed that she hadn't even sensed it happening.
Then again, only Harry should have been able to give the command. And it seemed unlikely that he would have done it while they were chatting. She found the entire situation to be confusing and thinking about it made her head hurt.
The headaches weren't new. She'd had them in her second life as well. But they seemed more severe now. Or maybe she was just better at ignoring them before. She pinched her nose and closed her eyes to fight against the pain. Only for the insufferable healer to open her mouth again.
"Why are you ignoring the pain potion?" Priya asked.
Emily could have answered her. Hell, the proper thing to do would probably be to just tell her. But the bitchiness, or perhaps a sort of motherly protectiveness if she felt like being charitable, won out.
"Why'd you dump him?" she retorted. And to her surprise, the Healer looked startled by the question. It took her a moment to recover.
"Excuse me?" she asked.
"You heard me," Emily muttered, her resolve fading and she looked away from the healer once more. She hated herself for it. Why was she demuring from this woman? There was zero reason for her to do that. She could crush the healer with nothing more than a stray thought. Yet she couldn't bring herself to even meet the gaze of the other woman.
"You think that I ended things with Harry?"
"Obviously."
"And that I wear this around my neck as, what, then?" Priya asked, sliding a hand under the collar of her robe and pulling out the silver necklace with the ring on the end.
"I have no idea," Emily said.
"I don't even know you and I'm affronted that you think I'd be low enough to keep the ring if I broke it off," Priya said.
"Well what happened then?" Emily asked. "I only got him to the part where you were happily engaged and living a wonderful life in Japan. You should have kept him there. Things would have been a lot easier."
"He wouldn't have stayed after what happened in France, even had I begged him to. Although, the timing of it all did work out, more or less," Priya said.
"So what happened?" Emily asked.
"Why don't you take the pain potion?" Priya countered.
"Are we bargaining now?" Emily asked.
"If that's what it takes," Priya answered.
"I'll get the story from him, anyway," Emily scoffed.
"His version of it, at any rate. Which, when you tell him how much of an idiot he is after hearing it, may end up helping me more than anything," Priya said.
"I tell him he's an idiot every time I see him. So far it doesn't seem to have garnered anything positive," Emily said.
"Well, keep on him," Priya countered.
"Why do you want to know?" Emily asked. She finally managed to bring her gaze up to meet the healer. She wanted to see her answer as much as hearing it. She wanted to see any crack in the stoic doctor's gaze. Unfortunately, none emerged.
"Why do you?" Priya asked.
"I'm not moving in on your turf," Emily responded.
"I didn't say that you were," Priya said. "Although it's interesting that you immediately went there."
"What are you a shrink now?" Emily asked.
"I took a few classes," Priya shrugged. "But No."
Emily glared and continued to look around the room, hoping that something to drink would appear. She frowned to herself and wondered if she should have taken Harry up on that teaching position, purely to have access to the school elves on a whim.
"So why do you want to know?" Emily asked, suddenly wishing she had a better reason than the one that came to mind.
"To know what I'm working with," Priya said.
"Do I even want to know?"
"I doubt it."
"Trade me for it?" Emily asked.
"I suspect that I'll be overpaying," Priya said.
"But you have no idea the good will it could build up for the future," Emily said.
"Fine," Priya sighed. "Sit."
Emily didn't sit. Priya raised her brows and pointed at the couch.
"Fine," Emily sighed. But she moved to a chair rather than the couch.
"Dobby?" Priya asked. The house elf appeared immediately.
"Yes mistress Priya?" Dobby asked.
"I'd love a cappuccino," Priya said.
"Does mistress's….guest…want anything?" Dobby asked with a glare toward Emily.
"Whisky," Emily said without a second thought. Dobby looked sheepishly toward Priya who shook her head.
"She'll have a cappuccino as well," Priya said. The elf disappeared and moments later two steaming cups of coffee appeared on the table in the middle of the room, near her neatly lined potions. Emily hesitated for a moment before summoning one to her.
"How do you get around the staff bit?" Emily asked.
"Why aren't you taking your pain potion?" Priya countered.
"Is this what we're doing now?"
"It might be," Priya said.
"Because I dislike the way it makes me feel," Emily responded.
"Numb? Lost?" Priya asked.
"How do you get around the staff bit with the elves?" Emily asked.
"Who's to say I'm not on staff?" Priya asked.
"Me," Emily said. "And the ministry records."
"Do you think Harry would be dumb enough to keep the ministry records up to date?"
"Yes. Because they're looking for any excuse to get rid of him. And submitting false records would reflect poorly upon him. And there would be no reason to needlessly put forth that risk," Emily said. "And I suspect that he would prefer to keep your intimacy as minimized as possible."
"Fudge does that for him. They took his name off of our research when they finally relented to it being published here. And that took months of posturing. I guess it didn't help his cause that a bunch of Healers just had friends in America or Canada send them copies as well," Priya growled, old anger at that slight rising to the surface.
"I know," Emily said. Priya raised her brows. Emily half expected to be asked her opinion on the work. But the question never came so she continued. "You never answered my question."
"Dobby is more or less Harry's elf, even if he won't quite agree to the terms. Until Harry starts shacking up with someone else he still sees me as his companion. Serving me equates to serving Harry," Priya said with a shrug of her shoulders. "He's bound to the school, more or less, but he's honor driven to serve Harry."
"Clever," Emily said.
"Happy coincidence more than cleverness," Priya admitted. She summoned the other cappuccino to her and peered down at the cup. Dobby had created a lightning bolt with the foam. She sipped it and peered back at the Dark Lord. "What about the pain potion do you hate?"
"Why'd you dump Harry?" Emily countered.
"That's really all you want to know?" Priya asked.
"For now," Emily said.
"Fine then," Priya sighed. "But once I tell you I suspect you to be more cooperative."
"We'll see," Emily shrugged.
"I'm not giving you a choice," Priya said.
"Oh you're going to make me?" Emily laughed. Her eyes lit up in amusement until she saw Priya's expression. There wasn't anything threatening about the Healer. She still wore the same stoic guise she'd had on the entire time. She merely shook her head, sadly, as if dealing with a disappointing child and sighed.
"I won't do anything," she said. Hardly a threat, but the weight of the words were enough to silence the laughter.
"Fine," Emily said, again feeling the wind leave her proverbial sails. "Tell me."
Priya loved waking up with Harry Potter. It was one of her favorite things. Which made her feel more than a little bit stupid, because it sounded a little bit stupid. But at some point in the last few years just about all of her favorite things were slowly being replaced by things involving Harry Potter.
Part of her wondered if that cost her the coveted 'independent woman' card but a larger part of her didn't care one way or the other.
She thought waking up was an odd thing to fixate on. But given that it started nearly every one of her days, perhaps it was the likeliest of choices.
It wasn't something she'd been particularly fond of with the other boys she'd encountered. Her Hogwarts crush had assumed her being awake meant she wanted him back inside of her. Which was very seldom the case. He'd struggled with some rather basic concepts, too, like why she'd want to put clothing on after. Or why she'd rather spend three hours studying for her exams than fifteen seconds in bed with him.
Things improved after Hogwarts. But no one ever seemed to keep her attention for very long. And even then she preferred to leave rather than stay with them. They'd always seemed disappointed with her decision. And mostly had resorted to begging or pleading rather than simply asking her about it.
Of course, Harry hadn't asked either. After the first time, as she stood on shaky legs wondering just what he'd done to her, he'd merely kissed her goodnight and, once he realized she was leaving, offered to apparate her home if she'd like. She'd declined with a snide remark about how he wasn't so good that her brain was totally scrambled and that she was perfectly capable of getting herself home.
She never bothered to tell him that she'd apparated to three blocks away from where she'd been staying, or that she'd splinched herself, leaving half her thumb behind, on the second. It wasn't her finest moment, even if she'd fixed it easily enough.
It wasn't until the fifth time that he'd joined her in the shower after. She was tired and more than a little bit sore and hadn't wanted it to devolve into anything else but also hadn't been sure how to tell him that. Like most things, though, she hadn't needed to.
He'd only washed her and tried for nothing more. She'd closed her eyes in the warm water and remembered the soft cloth on her. He'd kissed her neck, once or twice, but that had been as sexual as it'd gone. She was half in a daze as he'd led her out of the water and back into the bathroom proper. She might have fallen asleep on her feet as he dried her with a fluffy white towel.
Harry had paused for a moment. He'd gazed over her shoulder at the small window in the bathroom as rain pelted against it. He'd used that as an excuse. She should stay rather than go out in the rain.
To her educated brain it was a phenomenally stupid excuse. She could get home easily enough without ever stepping foot outside. Hell, there were multiple ways for her to accomplish that feat. And even had she been forced outside there were countless charms that could make the water irrelevant.
But the more primal part of her brain thought that not going outside, or perhaps, not leaving his side, sounded like a better option that evening. So instead she found her underwear and then wiggled her way into one of his shirts and then back into his bed.
She'd been tense at first, for reasons she couldn't explain. It was such an incredibly stupid thing to be nervous about. It wasn't like she, or even he, was some blushing virgin. It wasn't like they hadn't crossed most every threshold they could. He'd seen her already, he'd tasted her already, he'd had her already. A half hour earlier he'd been inside of her. Gods, she cursed in her own head, part of him still was. So what was it about being in his bed that made her so nervous?
She knew the answer, she associated it with other failed relationships. It was something that had always felt wrong to her. Whether she'd been doing it wrong, or her partner had been doing it wrong, it didn't matter. It was something that had pushed her away more often than pulled her in.
But Harry, without knowing any of that, pulled her in. Quite literally at first.
He'd reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. Her back pressed to his chest as he held her. In that moment she'd felt nothing but safe and warm. She'd learn how much he loved to hold her as he slept.
She'd shifted on her side and reached back across herself with the arm she rested on, until her hand found his arm as it wrapped around her and she learned just how much she liked to hold him as she slept as well.
And that was part of why she loved to wake up in his arms so much. There was something primal about her eyes fluttering open as consciousness resumed and the first touch she would feel of the new day would be his muscles underneath her fingertips.
She'd wake up, every morning, feeling safe, secure, loved, cherished and so much more. It took some getting used to, really. But once she had she never wanted the mornings to be any different.
It helped that Harry wasn't much of a morning person. He was easy enough to rouse if she so wanted. And he was never the least bit late for anything, no matter the hour. But if he had his way he would spend most of the morning in bed.
When she wanted to slip away and wake for the day he would let her with rarely anything more than the most token of resistance. Although she noticed that the longer they were together the more often he'd wake with her.
Still there was no expectation when he did. Often he'd summon the morning paper and wait until she'd finished with her bathroom routine before going about his own. Sometimes he'd make breakfast while he wanted, other times he'd doze.
But it had the same effect in the end. When she was awake, he was awake. Often they would simply exist together, going about their own business as they saw fit, normally in close proximity.
Some days they wouldn't even say anything to each other. But they didn't need to. The silence was always peaceful. She, like him, preferred the quiet more often than not and they could work for an entire day without either being bothered in the least.
Normally one of them would look at the other, suggest dinner, and their work would end for the day. They usually went out, traveling around the country to try whatever restaurant they liked on a whim.
Sometimes one of them cooked. Harry was rather better at it than she was. Her cooking ability had developed out of necessity rather than any actual interest. Unlike him, when she'd arrived in Japan she hadn't been able to afford eating out every evening.
So she'd forced herself to learn to cook. She found some of the most basic cookbooks she could and stuck with the instructions therein. She didn't deviate, she didn't explore, and she didn't care. She was more likely to make a week's worth of something in one go rather than try multiple recipes.
Harry; however, seemed to enjoy it. He'd experiment with recipes, he'd add in random spices that made no sense to her but ended up being enjoyable. He'd pull things from recipes he'd tried months to years ago and throw them into new ones with great success.
Honestly, she was a bit jealous of it. Everything he attempted always seemed better than the last thing he'd tried. And he made it all look so easy. It was, all-in-all, rather infuriating. Enjoyable, but infuriating.
Still, she assumed she was going to gain at least thirty pounds when she finally gave in and ate it all. Something, she figured, could at least wait until after the wedding. At the very least, she thought, she'd be well fed when she was eating for two.
Which is where the problems started.
It was innocuous enough. They'd been engaged for a few months. Some bits and pieces of the impending wedding were falling into place. But for everything that seemed settled a dozen more questions arose from nowhere.
They were cuddling on the couch one evening as the sun set in the windows. She remembered thinking she spent far more time watching the sun set in the landing of the rising sun than she did, well, watching it rise. And then she remembered thinking that she was being an idiot thinking that.
So she turned her attention to the copy of Witch Weekly floating before her. Harry lay behind her, an arm wrapped around her waist and his face pressed into her hair while she read an article about new and improved contraceptives for young witches. Avoid the hassle with nothing more than a flick of your wand!
They were, by and large, not new and most were not nearly as easy, or effective, as just taking the potion and dealing with the hormonal side effects. In fact, it amused her to learn that most weren't even as effective as the Muggle pills. Although why someone would want to go the daily route when a weekly or monthly potion was readily available for either gender had never quite made any sense to Priya.
"That all seems more complicated than it needs to be," Harry said, peering over her head at the magazine as magic turned the page.
"I'm sure it's just leading to Pomfrey's yearly lecture," Priya sighed.
"The one about not doing it yourself when there's a professional who will get you what you need, no questions asked?" Harry asked.
"That's the one. Always seemed to be after something like this popped up in one of the periodicals," Priya said, skimming the new pages of the article and finding it less and less interesting with each passing moment.
"Do you really think there were no questions asked?" Harry asked.
"My friend Anne went to see her once. And there were no questions from Pomfrey," Priya said.
"Flitwick?" Harry asked.
"Oh no. Her parents. After Pomfrey wrote to them saying just what she'd gone to the nurse for," Priya said. "They were furious. Which was dumb. But some old Purebloods are weird."
"Some are," Harry agreed. "But it's the half blood degenerates you have to watch out for."
"Too right. They can get you into a compromising position so easily. So perhaps it's best to know how to perform as many of these charms as possible. I suspect nothing bad can come from trying all of them at once," Priya said, even though the article made explicit mention that doing so would be a monumentally stupid idea.
"If I recall the first compromising position was your idea," Harry said.
"Was it?" she asked as innocently as she could fake. "I don't recall."
"Would you like me to remind you?" Harry asked.
"Maybe in a bit," she responded, wiggling her backside against him and relishing the soft exhale that accompanied the motion.
"Mmm yes. I probably shouldn't distract you from various hexes you could use on your uterus. That third one seems more harmful than helpful," Harry said.
"I'm surprised they'd print that one. The medical professional in me thinks that more for sterilization than prevention. Anyway, I was hoping the skintone matching concealer tips would be more applicable but they still seem more designed for your pasty kind," Priya said.
"I can't believe you get Witch Weekly all the way from England," Harry said.
"Well, you pay for it," Priya teased.
"We should talk about that, Ms. Breadwinner," Harry responded.
"You just have to accept some things how they are, Mister Trophyfiance," Priya said.
"How silly of me," Harry said.
"There is something we should talk about, though," Priya said as she closed the magazine and let it float down to the coffee table.
"What's that?" Harry asked.
"Children," Priya said.
"We have talked about that," Harry said. She could sense him tensing against her as confusion started to well in him.
"Only as some vague far-off concept that we both agree we'd like," Priya said. "Nothing more concrete."
"So, what? Like how many and when?" Harry asked.
"Something like that," Priya said.
"So how many and when?" Harry asked.
"I don't know," Priya shrugged her shoulders.
"Helpful," Harry laughed.
"How many do you want?" Priya asked.
"Is my opinion that crucial there? They don't live inside me for a year," Harry said.
"Your biology is awful," Priya said, knowing full well he was just tweaking her but figured she should comment regardless.
"But my point stands. My contribution to the creative process, as it were, is, shall we say, less time consuming than yours," Harry said. "And it has a far less direct impact upon my daily life."
"Fair points," Priya said.
"So how many would you like?" Harry asked.
"An even number," Priya said.
"Why?"
"I didn't like being an only child," Priya admitted. "I wanted a sibling."
"So two then?" Harry asked.
"Or four," Priya shrugged.
"Four? Really?"
"My cousins are a trio, one alway seems left out. Pairs seem like a better option," Priya said.
"That's a lot of time pregnant," Harry said.
"What, worried you won't like me?" Priya teased.
"I don't think that's even a possibility," Harry said. "But I think I like the number two more than the number four."
"Probably best not to be outnumbered," Priya agreed.
"Okay. So when?" Harry asked.
"I'm not sure," Priya said.
"After the wedding?" Harry asked.
"I'm not sure," Priya repeated.
"Why not?"
"Well, we both want to get married in London," Priya said. "But going back to London never feels like a priority."
"It doesn't, does it?" Harry asked.
"No. We could always just, you know, do it," Priya said.
"Go to London, get married, or have a kid?" Harry asked.
"Yes?" Priya responded.
"Well, I'm not the one taking the potions," Harry said.
"I should make you," Priya said.
"If you like," Harry said.
"Right now I think I'd like to take a bath and then take you to bed," Priya said, shifting around on the couch so she was facing him.
"And make a kid?" Harry asked, an odd sort of excitement feeding into his emotions as he spoke.
"Two weeks left on this potion," Priya said. "But we can pretend and see where that gets us, if you like."
"May as well give it a shot," Harry said. He shifted his way over her on the couch and rose to his feet. After a moment he helped her up and led her to the bathroom and, eventually, after soaking for an hour or so in the tub, to bed. Their nightly activities that evening left her wishing that there was more truth in their actions.
Their conversation ran through her head for the weeks to come. She wasn't sure if she intentionally forgot to take the next month's dose of potion, or if she really had just been tired, worn out and it just slipped her mind like any other completely innocent mistake.
Either way, when her cycle came weeks later she hadn't expected to feel quite as empty, or as disappointed, as she had. It was an odd feeling. And one that she wasn't quite sure how to react to.
If Harry sensed anything was amiss he didn't comment on it. And she didn't seem to see any real reason to bring it up in their conversations. Instead they continued on as normal, both blissfully happy in their lives. Looking back, Priya still wasn't sure exactly when it all went wrong.
Her story was interrupted by a knock on the door. Emily glared at it, looking rather annoyed at the intrusion. Priya rose and walked over to the door, opening it and peering at the intrusion.
Alexander and Fumiko Avery stepped into the room as Priya shut the door behind them. If the young Healer was surprised by their presence she didn't show it on her face. Instead she summoned Dobby and refreshed the drinks as she walked back to her seat.
"You interrupted her fascinating tale of her time with Harry," Emily deadpanned, glaring at the two intruders.
"And how was that?" Avery asked.
"Tedious. There's something intrinsically boring about stories of happy people. I'm still not sure who broke up with whom," Emily scowled.
"Either are we, to be honest," Fumiko added. Priya frowned at both of them, peering between them as she sipped her coffee.
"Where is he?" Priya asked.
"Occupied," Avery said. "Hermione wanted to go over nurse candidates with him. Pomfrey still, thankfully, hasn't talked to anyone and insists she wants to work more toward retirement."
"What did he do?" Priya asked.
"Nothing, as far as I'm aware. She refused to help when your grandmother showed up to heal her," Avery nodded toward Emily. "And Farha did not take kindly to that."
"I suspect she didn't. Duty before emotion," Priya said.
"Anyway, I suspect from the amount of paperwork Miss Granger pulled out, that we have at least an hour, perhaps two, before he decides to come looking around for anything," Fumiko added.
"Good," Priya said.
"I guess I'll leave you to whatever it is you will be doing then," Emily said. She rose to her feet as Priya's icy glare turned straight toward her.
"Sit," the healer ordered. Emily glared at her and had no intention of obeying until she saw that both Avery and Fumiko were glaring as well. It at least warranted further investigation so she returned to her seat, telling herself she hadn't been cowed in the least.
"What is this?" she asked.
"A group of like minded individuals working toward a common cause," Priya said.
"You obviously learned euphemism from Harry between your bouts of fucking," Emily scoffed.
"Please. He learned it from me," Priya responded.
"And it's as good of an explanation as any," Avery offered.
"I don't see why I'm required," Emily said.
"I'm not sure you are," Priya said. "That's why we're attempting a conversation."
"So you're just trying to learn something," Emily said.
"Obviously," Priya responded, letting contempt drip into her voice. Emily narrowed her eyes and glared but for the first time she saw an out in the conversation.
"What?" she asked.
"Why aren't you taking the pain potion?" Priya asked, her tone reverting back to the passivity it had before.
"You didn't fully answer my question yet. Why should I answer yours?" Emily retorted.
"I answered the question you asked a moment ago. And I'll answer your other question eventually. So just tell me why you won't take the pain potion."
"I don't see what bearing that can possibly have on anything. It doesn't matter. There's no reason for you to care," Emily spat back, but she could feel the fight leaving her as she argued. Priya merely kept her gaze on the other woman. Both Alexander and Fumiko did their best to look at anything else.
Emily thought they may have given her some type of assistance. She tried to meet Alexander's eye. But he wouldn't look at her. Whatever loyalty she'd once had with the man she'd given away to another. And from the look of it, he may have sold it to a third party anyway.
As for Fumiko, well, she didn't know the woman, and she couldn't expect anything from her. In fact, she highly suspected that if anything, the Japanese woman would have advised strongly against bringing her back. Not that Emily could blame her for it.
"If it has no bearing, then tell me," Priya said. Emily brought her glare back to the Healer. Old prejudices rising to the front. She didn't trust her. She didn't trust the profession. She'd never pressed things with her Healer Patel because the woman had, at the very least, tried to save her daughter. And offered what support she could.
But Farha Patel had merely been the last in a long line of disappointments. Of Doctors who hadn't noticed anything amiss, or had been complicit in it all. Of people who'd given her something, saying it would make everything better, only for it to be so much worse.
Despite her best efforts, though, the fight drained out of her much like it had after they'd poured the laudanum down her throat, quelling her rage and her power in a haze of nothingness.
"Because I hate the way pain medication makes me feel," Emily admitted. "It's not new. I've hated it for as long as I can remember.."
"So you'd rather torture yourself with constant agony than take a simple potion to make it better?" Priya asked.
"Pain medication doesn't fix anything. I'm taking the potions that do the actual healing," Emily said, gesturing to the others on the table, doing her best to not look at the nearly full mint green concoction in the middle.
"You do," Priya agreed. "But the pain potion will make the other potions function more quickly. Unless you'd prefer to heal the Muggle way with as little assistance as possible."
"No I'd rather not," Emily said. The potions tasted terrible, sure, but she had enough experience with Muggle doctors to know their healing was ineffective at best.
"So why not help it with the pain potion?" Priya asked.
"I need to feel it," Emily admitted.
"Feel what?" Priya frowned and Emily could see that she didn't like the direction this conversation was going. That was fine, she thought to herself, no one liked the direction this conversation was going. She least of all. She'd never even been able to work up the courage to tell her husband about it.
She wondered what he would have said. What he would have done. In her mind he was always a supportive and loving man. But would it have changed his opinion on her? Would she have been somehow lessened by the experiences? Would it have mattered? Part of her wished she'd have known. Another part of her was glad for the ignorance.
"Everything," Emily said. "I need to feel it all. The pain, the burning, the knitting back together of it all. It's the only way I know I'm still me."
"That sounds horrific," Fumiko frowned. It earned her a glare from Priya but not a further comment.
"It's not so bad," Emily shrugged, unsure of why she felt the need to downplay her own suffering. "The relief when it's done, the rightness of it all, is a reward few ever get to fully experience or understand."
"When did this need start?" Priya asked.
"Eight or nine," Emily shrugged. "Maybe ten. I don't know."
"So it comes from your childhood trauma," Priya said. Emily sneered at her.
"The rapes you mean? Yes I suspect it comes from that," Emily growled. Fumiko and Alexander both flushed crimson and looked away from her. Priya, however, met her gaze with her brows only slightly raised. Harry really must have told her everything.
"They drugged you," she said. Part of Emily was disappointed she'd figured it out so soon. No one else had ever bothered to put two and two together and come up with an answer. Perhaps this young healer was more intelligent than she was giving her credit for.
"Some of them, when I'd resist too much," Emily admitted. "I hated it. I'd lay there, a prisoner in my own head, watching myself be violated and not even feeling it. It was as bad as when I did feel it. Just in a different way."
"Interesting," Priya said. She finished her cappuccino and placed it down on the table.
"I'm glad my childhood trauma amuses you," Emily snapped, trying to throw the Healer's vernacular back at her.
"You dislike anything that you perceive as taking away your own agency. And you associate the numbness that comes from pain reduction as a loss of agency," Priya said.
"Brilliant insight, Doc," Emily rolled her eyes as she spoke.
"Yet you drink," Priya said.
"We all have our vices," Emily frowned, unsure of where she was going with that and instantly realizing the hypocrisy in her own actions. Except she'd never thought of it in terms like that. She didn't drink to make the pain go away. Well, she drank to make something go away. But it was sorrow more than pain.
"I'd have pegged yours for torture and murder," Priya retorted. Emily raised her brows and suppressed a thought of how she'd be quite willing to indulge in both of those at the given moment.
"Don't give me ideas," Emily threatened, but her threats didn't phase the little Patel any more than anything else had.
"It has the same numbing effect as the potion but kills far more brain cells," Priya countered, bringing the conversation back around to the alcohol once more.
"I drink because it makes me feel closer to Martin, not because of the pain," Emily said.
"A different form of torture then," Priya said.
"If that's what you need to call it," Emily responded. "But don't lie to me that you never drank to get Harry Potter out of your head."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Priya said. "But you seem to be doing it to keep him in, not out." Emily only shrugged her shoulders. She decided she was done talking for the moment and silence fell over the room. She wondered what she'd have to do to get something to eat. It was Alexander Avery who finally broke the silence.
"Well?" he asked. His voice startled Emily. She thought for sure that he was talking to her. Except when she looked at him both his eyes, and the eyes of his wife, were resting on Priya.
"Better and worse than I thought," Priya shrugged. "But workable."
"How so?" Fumiko asked. Emily found herself annoyed at being talked about like she wasn't even there. But she also didn't have the energy to argue.
"She's sane," Priya shrugged. "Which is more than I thought to hope for after living for decades in agony. But her recovery doesn't seem to interest her. It's slower than it should be. And she seems to be actively willing it to fail."
"More passively than actively," Emily interjected with a nod toward the mostly-consumed potions.
"Will she recover?" Fumiko asked, genuine concern in her voice. At least more of it than Emily felt she deserved.
"If she wants to," Priya shrugged.
"Is that why you're here?" Emily asked. "To give another opinion on my health?"
"Of course not," Priya laughed. "If they wanted that they'd have dragged you to a hospital themselves. Very little reason for a housecall."
"She wanted to measure you before she made her decision," Avery added.
"What decision?" Emily asked. She hated being in the dark. Almost as much as she hated having others make decisions for her.
"Well, what do you think?" Fumiko asked.
"She's more like Harry than she'll admit," Priya said. "At this point I'm not sure if that's a positive or a negative."
"What does her opinion matter?" Emily said, growing rather annoyed at the fact she was being talked around.
"Do you honestly think that they sat around and did nothing while Harry ran off to France like an utter idiot?" Priya asked. She leaned back in her chair and kept her gaze level on Emily.
"Ah," Emily said, her own brows arching. "So this is the pitch?"
"Of sorts," Avery said.
"Does he know?" Emily asked.
"Not yet," Priya admitted.
"So why wouldn't I tell him?" Emily asked.
"Because I can offer you the one thing he never will," Priya said.
"And what's that?" Emily asked with a sneer. She didn't think that this mousy little Healer could offer her anything that she'd have the slightest bit of interest in.
"A way out," Priya said. And Emily realized how wrong she'd been.
"And what would I have to do?" Emily asked, her eyes skeptical as she peered at the Healer.
"You have a couple of advantages the rest of us do not," Priya said.
"Raw power and general good looks?" Emily retorted.
"Harry is stronger than you and Fumiko is more attractive than you," Priya countered without missing a beat. Emily narrowed her eyes but she didn't have the strength for more lies that evening.
"Then what use am I?"
"You're unattached and unknown," Priya said. "You can get to places where we can't. And you can learn things we can't. And you're resourceful, talented, and intelligent."
"So you want to use me," Emily said.
"Obviously," Priya said. "And when it's done I'll give you what you want. Assuming it doesn't happen somewhere along the way."
"Say I didn't find this an utterly absurd exercise. What would you have me do?"
"I'd be sending you places where I can't get. Where I think there's information that we'll need to bring down Grindelwald," Priya said.
"Not just to fight him?" Emily asked.
"Only Harry thinks that's a solution," Priya said. "The first encounter turned him into a hero. Why would the second be differentt? And if Grindelwald kills Lord Voldemort? He'll be revered."
"So what would you have me do?" Emily asked.
"You saw the paper this morning?" Priya asked.
"Yes."
"Something is off with the story about the Iranians who took credit for the explosion," Priya said.
"I thought so too," Emily admitted.
"I still have some contacts in Japan. What they're not telling you is that it happened at least six days ago. And that the Muggle authorities who first went in vanished without any trace. In fact, the numbers don't line up. It's as if some of them may have never existed," Priya said. "And the Iranians have completely shut down the site. They aren't letting anyone in."
"So what do you want me to do about it?" Emily asked. Her thoughts immediately flashing to a form of temporal magic she'd researched decades ago. Early inventors working on time turners had managed to erase themselves from history, more or less.
At least that's what conventional wisdom thought. There were conflicting reports of how many people had even worked on the projects, and the names of said people. It was, most thought, impossible to determine for sure. But it was always an interesting challenge that intrigued her as a student. Although, in the end, she, like many in the magical community, figured it was more myth than fact.
"I want you to go there and figure out what happened," Priya said.
"I'm still not sure why I would do that," Emily said.
"I already told you why. Go to Iran. Figure out what Grindelwald did. Get me something that we can use to bring him down. And in return I'll do what you want the most," Priya explained.
"And just what do you think I want?"
"That's easy. I'll grant you your third death. And I'll make sure it's permanent."
Author's Note: As always thanks for reading and reviewing I do appreciate all the feedback I get. If you wish to support me further I am available on PAT RE ON at TE7Writes. There are two additional chapters of CTS already live over there. Thanks again for reading!