𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 [𝐣.𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫]

26: 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔨 {𝔭𝔱. 𝔦𝔦}

Snape fell to the ground, frozen in place. Brigitte smiled in satisfaction, leaving him at the doorstep. Quickly, she made her way toward James, pressing an ear against his chest. Thick blood was caked on the side of his head, oozing down his temple. Still, she let out a sigh of relief at the sound of his albeit unsteady breathing. His arm was positioned at a peculiar angle against his chest. She fixed it first, holding the splintered bone steady as she conjured up bandages to keep it secure.

"James," she said quietly, fingers shaking as they brushed against his cheek. "James, wake up."

He stirred. She tried again, swallowing painfully.

"James, please." She raised her wand, ready to attempt a reviving spell. Her fingers shook as she grasped at her wand.

But there was no need.

"Heya, Brigitte."

His voice sounded strangled and painful. Letting out a watery cough as he winced, cradling his injured arm. Despite this, he smiled. But his eyes encapsulated a note of panic.

"Why are you here? You-you shouldn't be here. It's not-"

Brigitte helped to pull him into a sitting position by leaning him against a nearby tree. She also cast a quick rain repellent spell, which had slipped her mind earlier. His face had gone pale, breaths shallow and quick. "Save your breath, Potter. I know what's happening. Black gave me the abbreviated version. Now tell me what hurts."

"'M stomach," he mumbled, eyelashes fluttering faintly. He tried to look at her, eyes unfocused. She gently peeled away his wet shirt, revealing a patchwork of bruises that bloomed along his chest. Puce around his abdomen, dark, bloody purple blooming up his side. Standing up, she left her wand by his side.

He squinted at her, blinking slowly. "What're you doing?"

"I'm going to get Pomfrey," she said firmly, removing his glasses from where they were nestled in his pocket. She repaired the shattered lenses with a quick incantation, slipping them gently onto the bridge of his nose. Then, she took her wand and placed it in his left hand, wrapping his fingers around the rigid wood.

But as she stood up to go, James spoke up.

"Stay?" He whispered, voice slightly whiny. He looked at her, breathlessly. "Please?"

She blinked. "I have to get someone. You're hurt, and-"

"Peter will come, soon. With McGonagall," he breathed, "I have dittany in my jacket pocket. I just remembered. Left side."

Brigitte dug through his left side pocket until her fingers grasped a cold, smooth bottle. She applied half its contents to his ribs, watching the bruises mature and dull. She used a remaining quarter of the bottle to fix the cut on his head and stanch the bleeding.

"Better?" She asked, corking the bottle. She figured it was best to play it safe. Dittany could be poisonous if too much was used at once.

James nodded, letting out a slow breath of relief. "Better."

And then he reached out his arm, gingerly, opening his palm towards her. And Brigitte allowed herself to be guided away from the castle, back to James Potter's pleading gaze.

********

"Are you and Lily..." Brigitte trailed away awkwardly, watching as the moon shone like a diamond in the sky. A terrible, ill-tempered diamond. 

"No," James said softly. "We, erm, ended things a week ago. After the party, I think we both learned a bit about ourselves."

He reached up to adjust his glasses, the blanched, clutching his side.