Absit Omen RPG
Role-Play Boards => St. Mungo's => London => First Floor: Creature-Induced Injuries => Topic started by: Knox Greyfriar on February 26, 2010, 12:21:51 PM
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October 14
9:05 pm
The Moon is Full
CRACK!
Knox Greyfriar appeared in St. Mungo's lobby holding tightly to Fauna Blake's hand. And suddenly the fatigue hit him. He faltered but caught himself on a chair. He'd been tired during the battle with the wolf, certainly. But his feeling now wasn't exertion, it was slogging and heavy, as if all the energy was draining from his body. The effort of Apparation seemed to have taken what he had left. His arm was still bleeding quite a lot, most of it soaking into his clothes where he held it close to his body, but the redness glimmered wet on his left hand.
"Creature injury," he declared. "Need a Healer straight away." His politeness and calm was incongruous with the pain and nearly black-out fatigue. And the possibility that he'd been bitten by a werewolf and that others were still engaged in battle.
"There's a werewolf loose in Hogsmeade," he said to the intake nurses, who were already rushing to his aide. "On the road to Hogwarts." He had seen Ciarra Belisario and knew she was a Ministry agent, but he had no way of knowing if she'd been officially dispatched, if the alarm had been sounded in London. He couldn't leave it to chance.
"No no - she's fine," he said suddenly when someone moved to help Fauna Blake. "Right, you're fine right? No bites? No scratches?" His concern was like a flash of emotion. He didn't really take account of it then, but later he'd realize all the fathering he'd ever done for his students was not in vain. Devlin might be a lost cause, but he couldn't bear it if Fauna or Sasha or Beatrix had been hurt.
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Fauna kept a hold of Knox’s hand, as if squeezing tight enough would stop the bleeding from his arm and make him feel right again. The uncomfortable rush of apparation swept through her, making her feel disoriented and dizzy once they suddenly appeared in the lobby of St. Mungo’s. She could only imagine how Knox felt with his injury. He stumbled and she moved to try and support him on his good side, taking care not to jostle his other arm.
Nurses took one look at the pair and rushed towards them, firing questions and helping Knox stand. Fauna felt so relieved. He’d be okay now, wouldn’t he? She let go of his hand, but remained by his side and shook her head when one of the Healers asked if she was hurt.
“I’m fine, completely fine,” she reassured them, voice sounding faint to her ears. There was not a mark or scratch on her. She’d been lucky.
Knox and Vlad had not. She wondered about Vlad for a moment, hoping he’d be able to receive healing soon too. If those claw marks got infected, he could be in as much danger as Knox. A young woman, a werewolf hunter, had arrived and Fauna assumed that she had the situation in Hogsmeade under control, but she couldn’t help but worry about Vlad, and even Sasha and Bea, who she’d sent off. Had she done the right thing? Where were the fifth-years now?
Fauna hovered by Knox, wanting to be there for him, but worrying that she’d get in the way. She wasn’t family, so she’d probably have to wait for him somewhere. Fauna hesitated and looked at one of the Healers questioningly.
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Quincy had been at the hospital for almost a year and a half now, and so was considered able to work without constant supervision. This was her last month in the creature-induced injuries ward, and she had been given her own little projecs to work on. Bites from doxies and mackled malaclaws were the things she saw quite often, and though she was happy to help treat anyone who came through the hospital doors, it had a tendency to become quite monotonous.
She was just about to bite into a sandwich when one of the nurses came running through to door to her small office. The young girl was breathless and saying something about a werewolf, causing Quincy to jump up out of her chair (much to the distress of the baby who kicked with annoyance) and race along the corridor to the cubicle where the patients had been shown to.
Once outside the door, she turned back to the nurse. "We need wolfsbane potion." The girl's eyes widened with shock. "We have to be prepared for the worst!" The girl nodded and ran off to find someone with the keys to the potions cupboard. Quincy took a deep breath and tried to appear as composed as possible. One of the things she had learned was that the patient was already concerned, and the healer needed to have a positive outlook on the situation.
She cast one worried glance up the corridor, and proceeded into the cubicle, aware that she was going to have to hold the fort until Jason or one of the other fully-trained healers arrived. She forced a smile as she came through the door. "I'm Healer St.James, Mr...?" She looked to the elder nurse in the room who held her hands up as though to say she hadn't had a chance to find out his name.
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Knox had been ushered down the corridor and he just took Fauna right along with him. He still felt like they were in some sort of danger and he felt like he shouldn't let Miss Blake out of her sight.
They sat him down on a bed and he started unbuttoning the cuff on his bloody arm. The Healer appeared, a pregnant witch who introduced herself as St. James.
"Greyfriar," he helped her with his name. She was old enough, he guessed, that her time at Hogwarts would have been before him. But no matter if she was his former student or not, he was ready to hand this business over to her. One of the strangest secrets Knox Greyfriar kept was that he'd trained as a Healer directly after his time at Hogwarts. He'd studied under an ancient community Healer and cavorted with his cousins, Lysander and Zalla St. James - wait. St. James.
He took his eyes off his arm for a moment and studied Healer St. James's face. And suddenly, even with the threat of a werewolf bite, he was worried that his past would face him. He wasn't ready for that. The Dark Mark he'd received on his injured forearm was now very faded and blurry. And at the moment, likely torn open and covered in gore. But the St. James cousins had been Death Eaters. And he'd helped them as their battlefield Healer.
He tore himself out of the moment, and found his words. But he was getting very tired. He was pale and drawn. It was the blood or the curse.
"Might be a werewolf bite," he said, trying not to sound alarmed. He peeled his sleeve up, the scraps of fabric painfully sticking in the drying blood. He winced as he revealed the entire bite. It was gruesome and parts of the flesh were becoming blackened.
-
Fauna was herded along the corridor, which was just fine with her, because she didn’t want to be left to pace in the waiting room, anyway. She’d felt strangely protective of the old Headmaster ever since she’d seen the werewolf rush at him, and the blood on his arm only made her more scared for him. Fauna didn’t often have any reason to worry over the adults in her life. Yet these past couple of weeks she’d been frightened for Tamis after Gawain Robards had been murdered, and now she was sick with worry over Knox Greyfriar. Greyfriar, who had been a rock at Hogwarts for years. Solid, dependable, invincible, in her mind. Fauna was not used to seeing him exhausted and injured, and it wasn’t a sight she wanted to get used to.
Swallowing, she stood off to the side in the cubicle, making sure Healer St. James had enough room to attend to Knox. The last thing she wanted was to get in the way and be sent out of here. So Fauna kept quiet, watching anxiously as Knox peeled off his sleeve to reveal a blackened and gruesome injury. She put her hand over her mouth and looked down. There was no way she was going to let herself be sick at a time like this, Fauna thought harshly.
In this grim situation, she admired Knox’s strength and calm demeanor. He wasn’t hysterical or rude, or any number of things he would have had an excuse to be. Fauna wanted to be like that too, whatever it took.
“It… it is,” she confirmed quietly, after he’d said it might be a bite. “I saw it happen.”
Fauna glanced at the injury worriedly. She hadn’t been able to process it at the time, but now she remembered the teeth… the teeth sinking into his arm. Knox’s yell. Her feeble Stupefy that hadn’t done anything.
She shuddered involuntarily, but then squared her shoulders. She had to be strong. Knox had done so much for her, for all his students. Not falling apart was the least she could do.
-
((Hope you don't mind, but I think that Dev should be here as well...))
"Sir! Sir, you can't go in there..."
"Getouttamyway" Devlin slurred slightly as a medi-witch tried to grab his sleeve. He had never hit a woman before, but she was testing every nerve he had left by attempting to keep him from seeing Greyfriar. The news of the attack had found him rather quickly at Signature, where he had been guzzling down Firewhiskey and frying aforementioned nerves like it was going out of style. It had taken a few minutes for the news to filter through the fog that was his drunken state and a few more for him to decide whether or not he really gave a damn that something had attacked his 'dear old dad'.
Now that he finally HAD decided to go and see the old bastard, Devlin was being held back by some dowdy old hag who didn't seem to get that he needed to see him. He still wasn't sure if he was going to cry or laugh when he saw him, but he felt a need tugging somewhere in his chest that said he had to do something. "Let go! He's my father and I need to see him!" Devlin snarled, surprised how easily the words "My father" and "Need" flowed off his tongue. It must be the firewhiskey talking, since even he wasn't a smooth enough talker to pull that sincerity off while sober.
It seemed to work, for after she gave him a wary one over and saw the family resemblance, she let his arm go "Very well... but if you cause any trouble, we will have to remove you." She said the last part with a hint of threat in her voice as she patted the wand jutting from her robe pocket. He just nodded, too tired to make anything of her veiled threat and stumbled a little as he walked towards Knox's room, his hand trailing against the wall for balance. When he got there, his hand hovered above the knob for a moment as he wondered if he should or shouldn't bother. Why was he there? Why did he feel a strange need to see the man who screwed his mother and left him without a real father? Whatever the answer was, Devlin imagined he would find out when he opened that door, so very quietly, he turned the knob as silently as possible and slide the door open a crack.
"Might be a werewolf bite,"
“It… it is, I saw it happen.”
He didn't know what sobered him up more: The realization that his father had been attacked by a werewolf and would now be one himself, or that Fauna had been there and witnessed it and was now sitting in that very room. Whichever it was, it washed over him like an icy shower and Devlin almost immediately sobered. His hand clenched on the knob with such firmness that his knuckles turned white and Devlin took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself. It didn't work all that well, for when he did push the door fully open, he did so furiously and when he demanded "What happened!" There was a hint of anger laced through his voice. Angry, and still slightly inebriated, eyes jumped between Fauna's worried face and Greyfriars bloody arm. Swallowing, he stepped into the room and managed to repeat in a slightly calmer tone "... Who did this?"
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Devlin barged in and just after him a gale of a boozy aroma. Knox's face immediately washed with annoyance and disappointment. It was his usual first reaction when his students had been found to be drinking like idiots, getting a head start on a terrible useless habit. Knox's fatigue and head buzzing with his injury didn't stop him from criticizing his son.
"You're drunk!" he accused with a disapproving scowl.
But Devlin's question was relevant. Who dunnit, indeed. There was no rhyme or reason with a werewolf attack, but the centaurs of the Forbidden Forest were excellent wardens. It had been decades since a werewolf had been loose in those woods. And it had been a very foul omen indeed for it to happen upon them. The slim chances seemed to combine into a grim destiny or a calculated arrangement.
He sighed and confirmed what Fauna had been brave enough to say. "Werewolf attacked us on the way back to Hogwarts castle," he explained to Devlin and Healer St. James simply. "Seemed to have been stalking us."
Normally a man of many words and lengthly explanations, Knox was possessed of a haunted brevity. He was inspecting his own wound, his old Healer training taking over. The blackened flesh, the exposed muscle, the jagged, ragged tearing. It was a solid, bite.
"There's a chance this bite will cause the curse," he admitted mildly. It was a drastic understatement. It was a realization that was content to sit on his lips, but it hadn't hit him in the head yet. Life as a werewolf - it wasn't something he was registering. It was a quiet denial. Surely, his bite was a perfect example of how the werewolf curse was spread - but surely, not to him, right? He sat on the Wizengamot. He couldn't be a werewolf.
"Only time will tell," he said grimly. He knew that the first thing that would happen is that he'd fall very very ill. He was already beginning to feel it. The massive fatigue. The ache in the arm that had spread to his chest and head. He'd be bedridden and feverish for maybe ten days, ten days is what they always said. And then, apparent recovery. And finally, the truth would be made known at the next full moon. November. November 13. Of course, the Healers and the Ministry wouldn't take that on chance. He'd be required to come to St. Mungo's and take the wolfsbane potion in a safe room. And then they'd know for sure.
He looked up at the Healer. "We'd better get his washed and dressed. Should probably stitch it up?"
Then, to the students. He turned to look at them, the fear on their faces. The concern. They didn't believe him one lick did they? That time would tell, that he might come out of this unchanged. They looked like doom. He was glad they were there. He had to behave in front of them, show them how not to be afraid. But Knox was confusing his abject denial for tranquility and poise. If he'd allowed himself to believe what he knew to be true, he'd be just as afraid as Fauna and Devlin. A werewolf's life was a broken one.
"I'm alright," he assured them. "It looks bad, but I'm not dead and neither is anyone else. Sit tight, okay?"
-
As the patient introduced himself, Quincy let any recognition of his name wash over her. She was not there to judge, and though she had heard stories about the Greyfriar cousin, she was not the kind to let her views overpower her work. Unlike a lot of her family. What had passed, had passed. From what she had heard, Knox Greyfriar had done a stellar job as headmaster, and she was only sorry he wouldn't be there to oversee her eldest son's education.
As Knox explained his theory of what he thought the bite was, Quincy nodded. From what she had been told by the flustered nurse, it certainly sounded like he knew it was a werewolf bite, as opposed to just thought it was. Then it was the young girl's turn to chirp in. Quincy smiled sympathetically, placing a hand tenderly at the top of the girl's arm.
"I'd like you to be looked over, if you don't mind. It won't take long, I promise."
She turned back to her more needing patient just as the door burst open and a young man barged in. Greyfriar's face seemed to tell a story, and not one of elation at his new visitor. Quincy narrowed her eyes very slightly, assessing whether she should ask the newcomer to leave, but before she had the chance to make a decision Greyfriar was explaining once again, in more detail.
An eyebrow rose as Greyfriar made his suggestion of what they should do. "And you'd better relax." She smiled. "We've got it all under control." The nurse was back with a startled expression and a vial of wolfsbane potion. The pale blue liquid was smoking slightly, and it smelled disgusting. But if Knox Greyfriar knew what was good for him, he would drink it.
Quincy refrained from wrinkling her nose as she unpopped the cork from the vial and handed it to Greyfriar. "Drink this, then we'll get that wound sorted out."
Another gentleman had appeared, revealing that he had been scratched by the werewolf. Quincy looked at the nurse and nodded, who scuttled off to get some more wolfsbane. Better to be safe than sorry; even a scratch from a werewolf could prove problematic, if some of it's saliva managed to find its way into the wound. "I just need to get hold of your records, Mr...?"
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Fauna simply nodded when the Healer kindly put a hand on her arm and said she’d like her to be looked over at some point. She knew she’d escaped miraculously unscathed, but it was easier to agree than to argue with someone who was trying to do her job.
Fauna could barely believe it when Devlin stormed into the hospital room, desperation and anger in his eyes. At first she wondered if he’d gotten hurt- it would just be the kind of night they were having- but realized that he looked fine, if slightly intoxicated. He must have heard about his father. Despite their argument in the Leaky Cauldron, Devlin clearly cared enough to see him, and it made her feel sympathetic towards him for a moment.
Professor Greyfriar’s reaction to Devlin's drunken state was so… normal, so typical, that Fauna could almost pretend that this was a normal night, and Greyfriar was scolding Devlin like he had when he’d been the Headmaster.
When Vlad walked in next, relief washed through her. Greyfriar’s friend was well enough to be walking, and if he was here, the werewolf was probably under control. He suggested that Knox had been singled out, and her expression grew even more worried as that thought sent a new bundle of fears running through her head.
Knox went on to reassure them that he was alright, in his calm and unruffled way. Fauna just stared at him. Perhaps some people reacted to this kind of traumatic experience by putting on a brave face, or maybe the reality just hadn’t sunk in yet. Whatever it was, his resigned demeanor was a little unnerving. She knew that he was right- the bite likely meant he was infected with lycanthropy. Fauna tried to focus on other worries before despair could well up inside… she couldn’t think about Knox as a werewolf, not now.
“Mr. Dragulia?” she piped up softly. “What happened, uh, to the werewolf? Is everyone alright? Do you know where Sasha and Bea went?”
The questions came out in a rush, and she felt slightly guilty bringing them up, but she needed to know what had happened after she and Greyfriar had apparated.
Fauna inched closer to Devlin, instinctively reaching out to hold his hand in a small, quick movement. Her hand fell back to her side when she realized what she was about to do.
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"Dragulia," Vlad answered the Healer. At the insistance of the werewolf hunters, he had left the fight and come to have his injury attended to. He did not know if Gabi would follow him here, but there was little she could have done anyway. "I am not seriously hurt," he explained to the people at the front desk. He saw the Healer glancing his way and held up his hand for her to see. "The werewolf clawed me, I was not bitten."."
It had turned out to be an interesting evening to say the least. He was not as offended by Devlin's being drunk as Knox was. Then again...Devlin was not his son. But after the yelling match between father and son Vlad could not find it in his heart to blame the boy. It would be a hard adjustment for both of them. Hard enough without having to deal with this too...
"I'm alright. It looks bad, but I'm not dead and neither is anyone else."
That's something to be grateful for, thought Vlad.
As the healer asked about his hand he sighed, knowing what she was thinking. Suppose the werewolf had slobbered on those gashes...
"My dear," he told Fauna in his Romanian accent, "I do not know what became of the werewolf. I hope those two hunters will not kill him, as he might be able to answer all our questions, once the full moon is over...
-
"You're drunk!"
"Tell me sumthin I don't know..." Devlin retorted with a slur, glaring at his 'father'. Where did Knox get off reproaching him like that? It wasn't like he had the right to. He couldn't play daddy unless he played daddy in other places, like getting Dev off the street. And taking him into his own home was not an option, since Dev knew he would feel more like a rescued dog then an independent teen down on his luck. How was he supposed to do his 'job' with an old bear looming over him every second?
He fell into a surly silence as the room begin to discuss the question he raised, 'who' had done it? As usual Knox was being domineering and condescending, telling the pretty healer how to do her job. Fauna was worrying her pretty head over nonsense, namely Bea and Sasha who Devlin didn't give two shits about, instead of worrying about the fact that He, Devlin, was going to be the son of a freaking monster! And that Draguila guy... well Devlin didn't know what his deal was... calling Fauna 'dear' like he knew her. Devlin felt his drunken anger start to boil over.
"Really? Really? Is that how you find out if people are werewolves?" He said suddenly, his face growing a bit red with anger " You 'wait and see'? There seriously isn't any sort of... test or something to figure this shit out? You just let a potential monster run free until he transforms and eviscerates a few kids?" Devlin was building up steam now and no one could stop him. Stumbling to his feet, he begin to rant "... What do ya do when you see a shady guy with a knife in an alley? Hm?... Do you say 'oh gee, we don't have any way of knowing if the knife is sharp enough to stab us so let's just keep walking towards him until he KILLS US!' ARGH!" Devlin threw his hands up and grasped his hair in exasperation "... You all are freaking crazy! The thing that attacked you was probably just a normal man just like you who had his potion tampered with... You are gonna be a creature like that too..."
At this point he was just talking to himself, as the realization of the situation dawned on his sluggish, firewhiskey addled mind "... You want me to live with you but how the hell can I do that?.. Laying awake every full moon wondering if you are going to transform and turn me into a nice rack of ribs... Wondering at every meal if I am just being fattened up... I finally have a father and now I have to be scared that he is gonna eat me at any moment... AHH I CAN'T TAKE THIS SHIT!" Grabbing his coat, Devlin stormed (well, stormed as well as he could considering his blood alcohol level) out of the room, slamming the door behind him dramatically. Down the hall, he collapsed on a chair near one of the windows and gazed out upon muggle London. Why did this crap always have to happen when his plans were going so well? Sighing, he rested his head against the cool glass.
-
Knox was grateful to see Vlad, but deeply worried that his wounds would prove as dooming as his own. Vlad's words seemed to indicate otherwise, but the risk was definitely there. However, if Vlad was here, Knox could feel sure the situation was under control. That the werewolf hunters had been able to do their job and that Sasha and Beatrix were safe.
But before much else could happen, Devlin erupted. He was frantic and angry and being completely stupid! Knox Greyfriar wanted to shout right back at him, tell him how obtuse and impatient he was being, to quit screaming like a child and take this in stride. That everything was under control and the thread of fate had been spun. The only thing to do wait. And that maybe Devlin should go sit and do that somewhere until Knox could escort his drunk arse back to school were it belonged.
But Devlin did the job for him and disappeared, and Knox was thankful he was gone. As ashamed as he was to feel that way, Devlin ranting and the bite together: well, Knox couldn't take that shit.
"That boy..." Knox growled putting a hand to his face. What horrible curse had their ancestors conferred upon their families to damn Devlin and Knox to each other.
But in a breif realization, Knox looked up, feeling blessed to have something else to think about.
"We need to owl Hogwarts straight away. They need to know about the attack and that we've got Fauna and Devlin, and to check for Sasha and Beatrix."
With is right hand, he patted at his pockets and found what he needed. He quickly scrawled a note and held it out. It seemed as if Fauna was the only one who might do this task for them.
"There is an owl service at the front desk. Could you?"
-
Fauna was not entirely reassured by Vlad admitting that he didn't know what became of the werewolf or of Sasha and Bea. It wasn’t his fault, of course, but she was worried. Her face paled as she considered the possibility that the capture unit could have killed the werewolf – no. In denial, she gave a slight shake of her head. They were supposed to find and subdue werewolves… the werewolf had already been in bad shape… surely they hadn’t needed to kill him. The idea that someone had died tonight, even their attacker, made her ill.
She sunk into one of the visitor’s chairs in the room and found, with mild and detached surprise, that her legs were quite shaky. Devlin began to rant at the Healers and Knox, becoming more and more emotional and saying things that didn’t make much sense to her. She stared at him with an incredulous expression, biting her lip and looking back and forth from Knox and his son. The former Headmaster did not need to hear this right now. Fauna felt a flash of irritation and wished Devlin would run out of steam soon, or that a Healer would tell him to leave. Of course he was upset. They all were, but in her opinion he was acting selfish, drunk or not.
Devlin stormed out and she watched him go with a mixture of frustration and relief. Fauna gave Knox a sympathetic look when he put a hand to his forehead and muttered something. He didn’t dwell on Devlin though, instead suggesting that they needed to inform the Headmistress of the attack.
Fauna nodded, rising from the chair and watching him scrawl a quick note.
“I can-” she mumbled, but he’d already written it and handed it to her before she could offer. Quick thinking, steady Knox. Even with a chunk out of his arm he still had his head on straight.
“Yeah, of course,” she told him, hesitating for a second and studying his face. She wanted to give him some words of comfort, tell him that Devlin was just being Devlin, and that everything would be okay. But the words wouldn’t come and they needed her to run to the owl service, so Fauna nodded at him again and rushed out into the hallway.
((OOC note: I'm starting a new thread with Fauna in St. Mungo's so she can run into Tamis, though she might return to this thread later!))
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CRACK!
Gabrielle had finally arrived to St. Mungo's, quite a mixture of being distraught as well as going slightly mad from what had occurred. The poncho cloak around her body swished as her boots clicked rather loudly against the marbled floors. She figured her father would be in this area, as well as Knox -- she was more concerned for Vlad than the former Headmaster. It was awkward slightly since she was hardly accustomed to being so worried for his health, but this incident brought out those emotions Gabrielle rarely wished to show. "Is there a Vladislaus Dragulia registered in here?" she commented to the receptionist, looking quite nervous about all that had happened this evening. "Dragulia? Hm... yes. Apparently, ma'am, he's being looked over by another Healer. Then again, I think he headed off to ..." A pause in her voice made Gabrielle all the more irritable in the situation.
"Where. Is. He."
"He headed off to Mr. Greyfriar's room, but of course, you need clearance." "I'm a Ministry worker, dear, and I think that constitutes a good clearance. Thank you kindly," she remarked rather bitterly as she tightened the fabric around her tighter as she headed down the hallway. A distraction caused by Devlin provided her to snap back to reality -- what on Earth? She had stopped to see him leaving in a fury and that made her raise an eyebrow. Standing as if like a statue, Gabrielle waited a few moments to collect her thoughts and emotions before walking on to find Knox's room. Her arrival was met with Fauna Blake leaving and her seeing Knox on a bed already.
"The scene's been taken care of or so I hope," was all she could muster as it came out in a semi-whimper as her eyes laid upon Knox and her father. "Are the two...of you all right? Anything I can do?" She luckily had spotted a chair nearby and placed herself into it. Oh, the agonies that would occur soon enough because of these events.
-
Gabrielle Murray-Harker's arrival was a welcome one. She was cool-headed and looked completely unharmed. If there was anything to be done, Knox figured she'd be the one to get it done. She was a very powerful woman in the Ministry of Magic and would have many doors open to her.
"I'm going to want to see that report, from Hendric," Knox said, knowing full well he wouldn't be permitted. "If they were able to take the werewolf into custody. Find out what he was doing out like that."
He wanted to add, bloody idiot. He was incensed at how irresponsible that werewolf had been. How reckless to be caught out without Wolfsbane Potion. To be out at all. How many lives he'd risked, and how many lives had changed because of it.
"I want to know what went on back there."
With his wound bandaged, he picked at the edges of the dressing, inspecting the work. It was well done, but he knew a few ways he'd do it better. Just to make it easier to re-dress. He knew the bite would need constant care.
The ward was very hush-hushed, but he knew what they were preparing behind some curtain somewhere. They'd be warming up some Wolfsbane Potion. If he'd truly been infected, and it was sure that he had, there was a slim chance he'd transform. From what he knew about 2% of recent bites would transform on that self-same full moon. But even as unlikely as it was, the Potion would help delay the onset of the illness that was coming, and perhaps alleviate its affects somewhat.
"Better get it over with. Where is it?"
-
(Continued from this thread (http://absitomen.com/index.php?topic=4404.0)!)
Fauna hesitated at the door, as if she expected to open it and find her former Headmaster in some state of agony, in the middle of a transformation, perhaps. Or his bitten arm had taken on a life of its own and had strangled everyone in the room. She didn’t hear anything. Perhaps they were all…
She shook her head slightly, cheeks flushing at her ridiculous thoughts. If only Tamis knew what she was thinking! Fauna knocked on the door twice, then opened it and stuck her head in.
Fauna was relieved to see Knox Greyfriar sitting calmly with his bandaged arm (not foaming at the mouth or attacking St. Mungo’s residents), and a new arrival, a woman she recognized who had helped them during the attack.
She walked in and stood awkwardly for a moment, forgetting what she’d been sent off to do and why she was back. “Oh, um, I sent that note. To the Headmistress,” she told him, sticking her hands in her pockets.
Fauna gestured towards Raynor. “This is Auror Raynor,” she said, probably unnecessarily, though she didn’t know if or how well everyone in the room knew each other. “She, uh… she's here to get our accounts,” Fauna continued, then wondered if she should have just let the Auror introduce herself. It probably would have sounded better coming from her.
-
A mutual respect was always what seemed to bind people together and in this case, Gabrielle and Knox. She had always found him above a fantastic headmaster and though perhaps his methods at times could be questioned, Gabrielle knew when it came to herbal and other medical remedies, he was the one to go instead of Mungo's. Thankfully, she had not had to use his services just yet -- however, it seemed that a hospital bed was something Knox would keep himself in for long. Her eyes glimmered, realizing they were misting slightly with tears. Her hand instinctively wiped them away immediately as to avoid a further embarassment with someone coming in.
"I'll get the report from him as soon as I can, Knox. Rest assured, this incident is not going down without some severe questioning, not to mention an overhaul for my department. Sure, we've got Vlad, Dreogan, the Reids and then of course, Joseph Collins, then again, I don't think it's going to be enough. That's only three international liasons and they're diverse -- I may have to even bring in Elias Nanopoulos from Greece to aid in this situation,” she commented, feeling a headache already forming from the frustrations forming. “Believe you me, I’ll make sure you find something out – after all, it couldn’t be that—”
Her words were cut as her hazel eyes looked over at the door to see Fauna walking in front of Tamis Raynor. Hm. Perhaps the girl had gone and told about the situation – no doubt, she was terrified to see Knox like this, not to mention emotionally scarred from the entire spectacle. A faint smile appeared on her face when Fauna introduced Tamis to Gabrielle. “Thank you kindly, dear, but we work together.” The smile disappeared as she continued to speak. “Good to see again, Tamis, aside the situation we’ve got on our hands. Vane Hendric and Cierra Belisario were taking care of the scene as I left them. I’ll make sure I’ve got a report on your desk in a few days – that is, after I get word off to the other International Cooperations about the situation and hopefully this situation may convince some others to finally join us.”
-
“There is no harm in the courteous of an introduction, Madam Harker,” the more petite woman replied as she entered behind Fauna Blake. Perhaps a little stricter than she had intended, feeling an innate need to come to the familiar student’s defense.
The Head Auror quickly scanned the room, gray eyes silently noting details. It was a rather crowded hospital ward with the two new additions. The healer her gaze traveled over without any real regard and then glanced back at her when her face finally registered; familiar but she could not place it. Dragulia looked relatively unharmed. Greyfriar on the other hand was pale and peckish – the former she hoped was a creation of her imagination considering the nature of jarring wound he was sporting.
Shifting, Raynor held his gaze for a moment and tried to let it fall back away again as natural and unassuming as possible. The last time she had seen Knox Greyfriar he had still been the Headmaster of Hogwarts and had been bellowing out her in all of his bearish might to vacate the premises. While she was not conceited enough to blame the burly man’s sudden retirement solely on that interaction, she felt the timeliness had at least contributed. The confrontation between them over Kyle Gibson had never been resolved. She was not expecting to resolve it in the next ten minutes.
That was not why she was here.
The Auror’s stoic composure did not alter when the Head of International Relations greeted her. The inclusive ‘we’ in the woman’s words was rather misplaced in Raynor’s opinion, but it was a trivial matter. While they were both Ministry employees, Raynor rarely had reason to cross paths with the other woman, more often working with a variety of Auror Consultants her office often supplied.
“As of yet, there is no reason that your department need get involved, Madam Harker,” she replied, “beyond informing Romania of the accident.” She put stress on that last word. The last thing that needed right now was jumping the wand and starting an international crisis. “There is no, current, evidence to suggest that this was an organized assault on Mr. Dragulia – or Mr. Greyfriar. I am sure the RCMC and the Capture Unit have control of the situation.”
For all they knew, this was just a coincidental accident, another in a long list of werewolf attacks. Until their werewolf resumed human form and they were able to conduct a more thorough investigation, they were not going to know. “You will be kept posted on developments.”
Resisting the urge to run a hand over face, Tamis could not help but feel as if this was the day that refused to end. Merlin, she hated full moons. She did not even want to consider the paperwork waiting on her desk, and she was adding to it as she produced a pad of parchment. She finally, and reluctantly, turned her attention back to Knox, knowing, with him, asking the Healer would be pointless. He would have his own opinion.
“Are you able to answer some questions?”
And since it was the temperamental bear, she waited for just about any answer.
-
Knox inclined his head in gratitude to Fauna Blake when she returned and confirmed the letter had been sent off. At least he could trust even the insane Analiza Snark to batten down the hatches at Hogwarts. She was nearly evil, in his opinion, but he mostly trusted her to run the school.
But he was getting more tired by the moment and he felt put off at being fussed over. Even if it was hard-line political fussing over or, just-the-facts interrogation-style fussing over. So when Tamis Raynor entered, their eyes met and he suspected she had also brought to mind the last time they'd seen each other. It had been last spring. And they'd both just been doing their jobs.
He just watched wearily as the two Ministry mavens debated jurisdiction. He picked at the fresh bandage more until a Healer non-chalantly guided his hand away, only for him to absent-mindedly return to picking a moment later again. A small dark speckle had already appeared at the heart of the bandage. The wound was seeping through already. Merlin, what a long road there was ahead.
He looked up when he felt a question directly aimed to him.
"I was escorting a gaggle of wayward students from Hogsmeade back to the castle. Dragulia went as well. The werewolf came out of the treeline once we were well out of town. We held him off until Vane Hendric and his protege arrived."
He ran a hand through his hair. "There's nothing more to it, Madam," he said, very aware that his tone was getting testy.
-
“There is no harm in the courteous of an introduction, Madam Harker.”
“She is just worried about everyone,” Vlad said soothingly, resting a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “But Gabi...we are going to be all right. All of us.” Of course that was not necessarily true. Knox had definitely been bitten. And though the gashes on Vlad's hand were from the werewolf’s claws, not the fangs, that did not mean Vlad was safe from future ill effects . If the creature had slobbered into those gashes...
‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof,’ he told himself. He had already registered, just in case. But even if the worst happened, he might not become a full werewolf. Instead, he might experience similar symptoms to Bill Weasley’s. Irritability at the full moon, remarkable strength, extraordinary hearing. Voracious cravings for rare roast beef...
He was still waiting to hear if there was infected saliva in the blood sample the Mediwitch had taken. But he was too old a hand not to know that on a full moon, a few drops was all it took...
“As of yet, there is no reason that your department need get involved, Madam Harker, beyond informing Romania of the...accident.”
Vlad noticed Raynor’s stress on the term accident, and he nodded, in silent agreement. International incidents were best avoided, wherever possible.
“There is no, current, evidence to suggest that this was an organized assault on Mr. Dragulia – or Mr. Greyfriar.”
“That is true,” Vlad acknowledged. “It is too soon to draw any conclusions, one way or the other. For my part, my presence in Hogsmeade was spur of the moment, so no one had cause to expect I was going to be there...”
Vlad couldn't help grinning at his old friend's terse summary of what happened. What more did anyone need to know?
“You will be kept posted on developments.”
Vlad smiled wryly at Knox, thinking, ‘Such as if you or I develop a sudden urge to bark at the moon?'
-
The Head Auror cast the Romanian dignitary a quick, cynical glance as he put a comforting hand on Garbrielle Harker’s shoulder. ‘All right’ was not exactly what she would classify the inhabitants of the medical ward. They had a shaken teenager, an understandably emotionally distressed Department Head, and a mutating Wizengamot Elder. Merlin knew what would become of Dragulia himself suffering that gash. Tamis Raynor, however, would be the first to admit she lacked social grace. There was a reason she usual did not interview trauma victims.
Greyfriar’s explanation was concise and non-incriminating. A perfect political response from a man used to dealing with radical reporters and adjusting to sitting on a jury. He lacked in mentioning his purpose in Hogsmeade and the fact that those ‘wayward’ teenagers had been in violation of Hogwarts policy. And he was quite vehement about not expanding on the issue if his tone was anything to go by. That could also be the change.
For a long moment, gray eyes held the bear’s darker ones in silent understood challenge. Yet, she was not here to hold a handful of students to the letter of the law, that was a Hogwarts issue and no doubt the experience in itself had been a lesson learned. As for his reason for his adventure to Scotland… she held his gaze for a moment longer as Dragulia confirmed that his presence had been happenstance.
She dropped her gaze back to the parchment as quickly, but remarkably neatly, jotted a few lines of text. Her next question was worded carefully, “Was anyone aware of your plans to be in Hogsmeade this evening? If any of you were going to be in Hogsmeade this evening,” she added, notably acknowledging Fauna and Harker as well.
It was doubtful that Greyfriar had decided to coincidently come within more than one thousand kilometers of Analiza Snark. Or that three students would decide to play rebel on the very same night. Or that two other very notorious Ministry personnel would also be on location. It was all very... coincidental.
While they were not ruling this attack premeditated as of yet, they were also not eliminating it as a possibility.
-
Ah there it was. The steely eyes of the Auror Raynor on him, her glance prying for more details than her words, reminding him that she could see the shadows of his unspoken things. This had been the same staring match they'd endured when she came knocking for Kyle Gibson.
But this time, Knox had no responsiblitiy for the actions of the students. They'd broken no laws, only school rules. They'd been foolish, perhaps, but not lethally so. So their reasons for being out of commomrooms was irrelevant. After all, it wouldn't be Auror Raynor who'd mete out their rewards. That would be Headmistress Snark and that time would come for them later. He wondered again about where Sasha Schlagenwiet and Beatrix Dark had ended up and what level of alert Madam Snark occupied.
But there was Raynor again, asking questions he wasn't ready to answer. He knew she wasn't asking them in order to nail him to the wall, or string him up for the press. He knew her interest was as impassionate as the investigation of the attack, of the pursuit of order and justice for the Wizarding Community. Her questions did no harm. But the answers could do him plenty.
"Devlin Mattews," Knox said looking away and letting his eyes follow a Healer as he walked through. "Devlin and I had arranged to meet at the Three Broomsticks by owl post. Two letters mentioned it, I think, a week ago. He'd be the only one."
He hadn't mentioned his trip to anyone at work, or to his extended family who all mostly lived in Kent. He hadn't mentioned to his friends either. He was still adjusting to having a son. Although the secret was out, essentially, if Devlin's earlier explosion right here in the hospital hadn't given anything away.
Then he added, suddenly, "You can't be thinking I was targeted."
-
Fauna sat in one of the visitor's chairs by the bed, remaining quiet as introductions were made and the questioning began. She felt for Knox, who looked exhausted. She wondered if it would be kinder to ask him questions in the morning, after he'd had time to rest, but then again, she also understood why Tamis would want to talk to all of them while the night was still fresh in their minds.
She began to fidget at the testy tone of his voice and the curt responses he gave. She was tired too, but it almost made her want to jump in and answer for him.
Oh, Merlin. Knox and Devlin. Father and son. That was one little detail that Fauna did not want to explain, and understandably, the former Headmaster seemed even more reluctant. When he answered Auror Raynor's question, she noticed that he didn't say why he'd met Devlin Matthews at the Three Broomsticks. Auror Raynor had to pick up on that. They were just stalling the inevitable, but Fauna quickly nodded in agreement and piped up quietly from her chair.
"Right. I didn't expect... Mr. Greyfriar to be there. I was just, uh..." she flushed scarlet. "Following Devlin," she finished in a mumble, glancing at Tamis and then away again.
"Sasha and Bea came with me." That was the simple answer. The long answer was that Beatrix would have come no matter what Fauna had said, and Sasha had been dragged and prodded into their little escapade.
Then Knox suddenly wondered if he'd been targeted on purpose, and Fauna's face paled. She looked at Raynor, as if hoping to find the answer in her stoic expression.
-
The weight of the silent exchange between former Headmaster and current Head Auror was immense. Raynor had always considered her exchanges with Knox Greyfriar as cordial. Certainly not friends but they had coexisted peacefully. For five years they had met annually to discuss the security arrangements at Hogwarts for the Remembering Day festivities. Yet, Tamis Raynor was foremost an agent of the Ministry of Magic. While she felt sadness for the rift Kyle Gibson, she did not regret her actions nor in hindsight would she change them. Personal relations were secondary to the Law and could, and would, be sacrificed for it.
Her quill darted across the page, noting the name and the amount of travel the owls would have endured. It was not common practice for an owl to be intercepted but it was possible. Though it would mean someone would have had to been watching Greyfriar’s mail to have done so. Fauna made an addition comment and Raynor turned her critical gaze to the Hufflepuff, surprise lingering there for a moment before fading back to cool professionalism.
“Devlin Matthews is a student,” she clarified. That would mean that Greyfriar had arranged for a student to come to Hogsmeade not on a Weekend venture. As a recent former Headmaster it was logical that the man had a number of bonds with the current student populace, but why not wait for a weekend? It was not a question relevant to her investigation, so she did not ask it. However much she wanted to know why Fauna was following this particular student off Hogwarts property. She glanced at the seventh year again. That she would ask later.
Before she could phrase her next question, Greyfriar interjected, turning Fauna’s eyes to wide, blue saucers as the girl paled and stared at her imploringly. Tamis in turn stared in disapproval at Knox. It was not an issue she had wanted to address in front of the girl.
“The Aurors Office explores all potential criminal motives before ruling an investigation as accidental,” she explained. Especially if there had been a mortality, which thankfully this case lacked. Suicides were similarly classified as murders until they had disproven all other explanations. It was a very political response and she shifted once, unable to totally sodden her previous relations with the man.
She glanced at the student one last time and signed in resignation. “The Department of Magical Law Enforcement has suffered as the target to a number of strategic and premeditated attacks,” she sounded tired then. She had lost a couple of close associates, a boss, and was suffering the humility of a protective detail as a result of those attacks. “Given the Minister’s… controversial… measures with Werewolf Legislation and your position as a Wizengamot official known for tolerance of the… condition… we must entertain the possibility.”
-
Something about a 'series of pre-mediated attacks' made Greyfriar think of Theodora Kingstreet. The thought of someone like her coming after him - and while he was with students no less - chilled his bones. He accepted Tamis's disapproving tone, for the first time letting himself consider this hadn't been just an unhappy accident. It was much easier for Knox to think of it as cruel happenstance. It meant the chances of another violent incident were as slim as a lightning strike. And the same went for his students and the ones he cared about.
But if someone was hunting him, trying to hurt him... what if they weren't yet satisfied?
In thinking about this, his countenance began to change. He seemed to grow and his face darkened. The placating, good-hospital-patient guise was wearing thin. He suddenly got up from his seat on the bed and even though a Healer protested he moved out and away from the little huddle.
"I'm no valuable target. There are a thousand and one ways to get to me that work a great deal better than chancing I'd be taking a stroll. Anyone who knows anything about me would know that something as trivial as this," he brandished his bandaged arm, which had begun to seep through from his recent exertion, "would do nothing to change my position or influence."
He looked at Fauna Blake. His voice was firm.. "I think you should find your way back to Hogwarts."
And then he looked at Tamis, and his voice was chilled. "And I think you should let an old man rest."
And then finally to the Healers in the room, he nearly bellowed, his decorum gone, "Let's have that potion and get on with it.
-
Fauna watched quietly, wide-eyed but not as pale when Knox stood and agitatedly stated that he wasn't a valuable target and that the wound he'd suffered was trivial. Her eyes focused on the blood seeping through the bandages and stayed there. His words only convinced her of the opposite. Knox was a valuable target - he used to be the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and now he was on the Wizengamot, and besides all that, a lot of people cared about him. And that bite was anything but trivial... that bite could affect his career, his body and mind, his whole life.
She looked up, startled, when he addressed her, then Tamis. He wanted to be left alone. It was understandable, but Fauna only half-rose from her chair, and looked at Raynor once again for guidance. The Auror had said, in her own way, that they must consider the possibility of a planned attack, and Fauna could almost accept that more than she could accept that Knox wasn't valuable. He was valuable to her.
"Should we... go?" Fauna murmured, sitting down again for the moment. "I don't mind answering questions tonight," she added with a glance at Knox. "I haven't been hurt at all." But Knox clearly had.
-
The dismissal was unambiguous and uncontestable. The man had declared himself done with his visitors and would not be swayed from the decision. A more self-preservation individual would have graciously taken their leave, caving into the baritone and the pleading anxious gaze of the student. Selective hearing could be a grievous talent and the usually astute Auror’s tunnel vision was locked explicitly on Knox Greyfriar as he rose from the hospital bed, ordering around the healers by the only means he seemed to know how; with volume.
Once before she had denied an ordinance from the man to leave a premises. But this time it did not have to do with mercilessly prying the information from him. The irritation she felt was very much personal.
“You see yourself so unclearly,” she said after his command had finished echoing off the walls. She did not yell, did not so much as raise a syllable, but there was a heat there. A shattering of her usual stoicism. While Tamis Raynor may not ever see eye-to-eye with the Bear, it annoyed her deeply that he would bestow such little worth in himself. “Your unwavering disposition is what would make you an ideal target, Sir. It is not your opinion that is endanger of being swayed.” It was the rest of the Wizengamot’s. It was no secret that the general populace considered this man the most pro-werewolf idealisms on the jury. How many elder’s opinions would lean away from Greyfriar now that he had personal gain at stake?
What agitated her most was how swiftly and suddenly he had decided to be done with them once she had confirmed his suspicion. It was the same volatile way he had responded to accepting the reality that one of his students had become a fugitive for murder. The man was running. “Hiding will not change the facts, Greyfriar,” she announced, unsure if he was listening or if she was addressing the air as she laid a document on the stand beside the bed. A form for his official statement. “Unrest is brewing in England again, but this time it will not be on the backs of eccentric Death Eaters. Hiding will not do any of us any good before long.”
It was a fear that plagued the Aurors Office with tension on a daily basis, that impending feeling that something was about to happen. Something big. But no one knew quite right. They were not prepared to let it happen, not without a fight, but it was coming. And… she was far too sleep deprived for this.
“We need to get you back to school,” Tamis finally agreed with his previous statement, tearing her gaze from the man to look up at Fauna. She put a hand on the girl’s back, shepherding her back out the door.
-
Knox Greyfriar stared Tamis Raynor down as she lectured him so calmly. She was a small witch and now that he was standing, his bulk towered over her. But she spoke to him as sternly and with as much poise as if she were speaking to someone on her own level, at her own temper. Knox chanced a glance at Fauna Blake who was physically in limbo between obeying him and obeying Tamis Raynor. He furrowed his brow even more deeply. It really was time the children went home. He didn't want to have these kinds of discussions in front of them. He frowned and crossed his arms. (His nostrils flared at the tinge of pain of upsetting the wound on his forearm.)
As Raynor prophesied about dark omens and bad tidings for England, and accused him of hiding from it he raised his chin silently daring her to press that line of discussion. But she stopped then. Left him some parchment, took Fauna with her and left. The others found their way out as well.
The two Healers were both standing at arm's length, having been waiting at the edges until the Auror business was finished. The new silence in the private werewolf ward was deafening. His chest rose and fell deeply as he watched the two small witches go. The door to the ward closed resolutely.
Fury and a feeling of being direly intruded upon filled him. The intrusion of the Aurors into his business for some reason seemed more defiling than invasive nature of the werewolf's assault. He felt examined and picked apart. He felt pitied. But most of all he felt trapped.
Suddenly with a deafening bellow he took up the cart of bandages and stringents and salves and hurled it at the closed door. It crashed with such force that all the glass upon it shattered and the cart clattered to the floor drastically bent. The Healers moved towards him wands out and ready to sedate him, but he held up his hands in retreat. He was panting with exhaustion, so let the Healers finish their work. They re-dressed the wound that had been disturbed. They fed him a light meal and washed it down with some healing draughts.
Later they'd tell him the outburst was the lycanthropy freshly affecting his brain. That he shouldn't feel ashamed, that that kind of feral rage was normal and a good indicator that the curse had set in. That the initial dose of Wolfsbane potion would quiet that savagery and finally let him sleep.