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When you know you know
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In the weeks following our last supper at Grimmauld Place, we decided that Sirius would play nanny to Hermione whilst Andromeda and I were at the hospital.
At least until we could sort out the whole Hogwarts debacle.
Among the four of us, Sirius had the most flexible job. He was an artist, you see, his forte being statues and paintings.
Meanwhile, Remus was employed as a magizoologist at the central wizarding zoo in London. He'd always had a fondness for creatures, ever since our Hogwarts days.
So much so, he ended up marrying a dog.
My head was throbbing with a persistent migraine as I navigated the hospital corridors. ─ A far too common occurrence for my liking.
Headaches exponentially ruining my day, flashes of light blinding me for prolonged periods until my mind would finally give in, and I'd succumb to sleep.
Andromeda suggested it was stress. I've had these spells since my parents' demise, and years on, they persist.
The tonic Andy concocted to aid with the episodes worked wonders, but I was always wary of becoming reliant on them.
They were addictively tasteful, and I felt empty without them.
"You're avoiding me," accused a voice from behind, causing me to jump. Papers flew in every direction, and my Pince Nez glasses shattered on the floor. The sound of the breaking lens made me clench my fists.
"Black," I growled in annoyance, bending down to assess the damage, my wand stirring to arrange the papers. Each sheet fluttering back into my arms in their rightful order.
All I needed to ease the headache was this nutty witch screaming in my ears. As if she hadn't picked up on the hint after I'd spent the entire week evading her.
"Occulus reparum," I muttered, mending the cracked lens. "What gave you that impression?" I asked, dripping with sarcasm, turning to prepare some coffee.
That's what I needed. More caffeine. That, and a hitman. I wondered how much it would cost to place an order to get rid of Narcissa.
I placed my clipboard on the table and pocketed my glasses alongside my wand.
"I don't know, maybe the numerous requisitions from my department to your ward, sent by my sister?" she mocked, wrinkling her nose.
"Or perhaps when you threw yourself, literally, into a cleaning cupboard upon seeing me approach? Or maybe today, when you climbed six flights of stairs to avoid sharing the lift with me."
"And why do you care, pray tell?" I retorted, not even bothering to deny it, tense as another wave of pain hit me.
My legs trembled, and I quickly pulled up a chair to sit down, burying my head between my hands. Had I not sat, I'd have fallen.
Did this really have to happen in front of her? What would she do if I fainted? Probably leave me lying there, then prod me with her foot.
Another image invaded my brain. Narcissa catching me, not letting me fall. Her hands on my waist, her fingertips pressing into my skin.
No, she'd use her nails.
This fucking wretch feline.
A hand touched my shoulder. Contrary to what one might expect, its touch wasn't cold like that of a dementor.
It was scalding, burning through my skin and muscles, piercing every layer of my being, right down to the pit of my stomach.
I swallowed hard.
For some reason, that intensified the pain. Our eyes met at the point where her hand rested on my shoulder.
The memory of the last time we touched voluntarily was still vivid in my mind.
Seventeen summers ago, just a year after her marriage to Lucius, I was at the Black household so they could finally meet Dora, who had just been born.
I bumped into Narcissa in the corridor, and immediately noticed her pitiable state, with tears smearing her face and reeking of cheap Firewhisky. When I offered to help her as she stumbled, she snapped at me.
As a reward for my goodwill, I received a slap in the face and a threat. I never understood where that slap came from.
Narcissa suddenly stepped back, withdrawing her hand. "Are you alright?" she asked in an almost inaudible whisper.
"I'm splendid, so well I could dance ballet with a Hippogriff," I said with heavy irony, but was interrupted by another onslaught of blinding lights and a wave of pain. A pitiful moan escaped my lips.
"You're an bloody idiot," she more growled than said. "Come on, let me check you."
I had no inclination to protest, nor even to push the other witch away. I simply sat, watching Narcissa wave her wand in my direction several times.
We'd never been this close before. I didn't know she had little pink freckles across her nose.
"What did you eat this morning?" she inquired.
I bit my lower lip. How was I to say, 'your sister's cunt'? No. Merlin, what an awkward situation.
Just as I was about to speak, however, Narcissa drew back. Her nostrils flared, her eyes narrowed, her hand on her wand turning white-knuckled.
Oh. Right... Legilimency. In the back of my mind, I cursed myself once more.
"Well, it's your own fault for being nosy, get out of my head."
"You were never a good Occlumens, and you're practically shouting in my head," Narcissa mocked with a sigh. "I suppose this is my punishment, isn't it? Alright, I get it."
We were silent for a few moments, one resigned, the other utterly confused.
"So?" I snapped, feeling exceedingly anxious.
Her gaze, so intense as it pierced my very soul, was becoming quite bothersome.
Narcissa huffed, the act seeming beneath someone of her calibre, and even more ludicrous was how adorably her eyes narrowed, akin to a particularly large feline.
Once more, the pain in my head throbbed, this time at my right temple. It felt akin to receiving a punch.
"You need to eat. Shall I make something for you?"
A scoff of derision escaped my lips quicker than a Golden Snitch could flee. She'd spit on anything I made for her, undoubtedly. Does she think me mad?
"No, thank you," I said with a strained smile.
Narcissa merely rolled her eyes, her foot tapping on the floor with impatience. "How much longer is your break?"
"Oh, not long now, actually," I lamented, glancing at the still-empty cup in front of me.
So much to do.
Checking on my patients, signing young Wesley's discharge, sending a letter to Severus, submitting a direct request to the council, preparing materials for Hermione in case all goes well...
Ah, then there's the gardens, Merlin, must be brimming with pesky gnomes among those leaves...
Perhaps, instead of gardening, I should simply purchase a Jarvey. But those creatures terrify me to the core. The last one bit my nose.
It hurt like hell.
Those ugly, foul-mouthed, stinking, oversized rats... If I must acquire one, I'll need a permit because it's vicious and-
"Stop! Stop! Your mind is so noisy!" she exclaimed, stepping back. "It's like a blasted radio gone haywire, so much... noise... Who's Hermione?"
I stood up abruptly, which proved to be a mistake, as I soon collapsed back into the chair with a dull thud. An 'uff' sound escaped my lips as my head throbbed.
Don't think, don't think. Damn. I took deep breaths, one, two, three times, my heart attempting to calm its erratic beating.
It was just a question, respond, Theodora.
"Andromeda and I are considering... adopting a girl."
Narcissa raised a single eyebrow, her arms crossing as she continued to narrow her eyes, her iris fluttering as if...
"A MUD-BLOOD!" she bellowed at the top of her lungs. More something of a banshee, louder than a fucking Mandrake.
I felt my body shudder from toenail to hair root as my head protested, my hands instinctively moving until they were against the blonde's lips.
Her clear eyes widened in shock, her lips moving against my palm, and all I wanted was to silence this damned witch.
"Do you wish to kill us?" I growled, pushing her towards the bedroom door. The room was empty and dimly lit, with two neatly made double beds at each end for the resting on-call healers.
We fell against a bed with my momentum. And Narcissa continued to protest behind my hand, her voice muffled, her lips moving incessantly tickling me.
Only then did I realize I was still silencing her and that I wouldn't get an answer unless I backed off.
"If you scream, I swear on Merlin's frayed shorts I will enchant your arse from inside out and hang you until you pass out," I said through gritted teeth, doing my best to sound threatening.
As soon as I removed my hands, she licked her lips and took a deep breath. Her clear eyes twinkling, not with fear, but amusement before declaring,
"Was that supposed to sound threatening?...Because, depending on the context..."
My jaw drops.
Indeed, I'm quite certain I'm gaping like a fish out of water. My head still throbs, pain is behind my eyes, and now, to add to my torment, my mouth is growing dry.
"You can't tell anyone about this," I whisper looking over my shoulder, desperate that someone might hear us.
"What? You dragging me to an isolated area, pushing me onto a bed, gagging me, and threatening to punish me? Or the fact that you're leading my sister into committing a crime on a mere whim?" She mocked with a shit-eating grin on her lips.
"Stop it!"
"Stop what?"
"These... insinuations."
Narcissa raised an eyebrow. "I believe your head's gotten rather large, Potter. I merely stated facts. Don't you see?" she says, gesturing around. I'm still pressing her against a bed, effectively mounted on her hips.
But not... Not like that...
She blinks, and a new and rare expression appears on her face. I want to slap it off her.
Narcissa seems to be privy to something I'm not.
Something smug, arrogant, irritating—just like her.
"Idiot," I growl, stepping back a bit. That's what I need. Personal space. Away from this tiresome witch, utterly annoying, vexing, presumptuous, and arrogant.m bitch.
I clench my fists. Merlin, sometimes I just want to flay her. "In the name of all of Salazar's serpents, just shut up," I exclaimed, waving my hands, my head feels like it's going to explode.
"Look... This is serious, you can't tell anyone about this child's blood status."
"A Mudblood and werewolf child," says Narcissa, clicking her tongue. "You're signing a death warrant, and not even Bellatrix's fancy for you will save you."
"Don't use that word! Muggle-born, that's the correct term," I argue, starting to panic, completely ignoring the mention of Bellatrix. "Muggle-borns are as dangerous as any other wizard."
Narcissa shrugs. "Werewolves are dangerous."
Bringing my hands to my face, I moan in frustration. "You must be the most irritating person I've ever had the displeasure of meeting in my entire life."
"The feeling is mutual," says Narcissa, holding back laughter as I abruptly remove my hands from my own face and my eyes widen. I want to tear my own hair out in frustration. I bite my fist to keep from screaming.
"Excuse me? I? The annoying one? How? I can't... I just..." I ramble with lips pursed in frustration, the pain in my head muddling my senses.
I take a deep breath to calm myself, but that allows me to inhale Narcissa's scent. My legs fail again as the pain in my head becomes unbearable. I feel like I'm going to fall. But then strong hands hold me, and my legs give way.
She didn't use her nails.
I feel her hands pushing me down onto one of the beds. The other rises and feels my forehead.
When did the world start spinning? This is certainly not normal. I can see two of her. It's like I'm at sea. The sound of my own bloodstream pounding in my ears. My whole body is tingling. Is this what hell looks like?
"Merlin, you're hot," she says in a completely different tone.
"I know, thank you."
There's silence before Narcissa speaks again. Laughter is noticeable in her voice. "I'm referring to your body temperature. You have a fever, that's probably why you're talking nonsense."
"Oh."
I didn't realize I was speaking out loud.
"Has this happened before?"
"All the time, and it's gotten worse since you returned from the depths of hell."
"Understood. I'll call Andy."
"Mkay."
"If you let go of me..."
I open my eyes. I didn't realize I was holding her wrist. My cheeks warm. Right now, I'm praying it goes unnoticed as a fever effect. "Alright," I say, shrinking physically and mentally into the bed.
The extra weight is gone, I hear footsteps against the floor. The door opens once more, and Narcissa leaves the room.
Her floral scent leaves a trail that makes my body shiver.
It smells like my favourite flower. I love the flower. Not Narcissa, Narcissa I hate.
Minutes pass, maybe hours, and I can't discern. My head hurts as if it's torture. The pain vividly reminds me of being under the Cruciatus Curse. The blood in my veins pulses audibly, pumping in my ears.
Any noise becomes unbearable. An absurd urge to vomit rises from the pit of my stomach, just what I needed.
How utterly humiliating. I'd rather perish than spew my guts in front of Narcissa.
As the door swings open once more, I keep my eyes firmly shut. I feel as though opening them would be the end of me. Gentle hands caress my face, a kiss is planted on my forehead, and I hear myself moan in contentment at the cool sensation contrasting with my body's heat.
"There, there, love, I've got you," Andromeda whispers near my ear.
My body relaxes this time.
"It's going to be alright. Open up," Andromeda instructs, squeezing my cheeks and forcing something sweet and crystallised into my mouth. A burning sensation sweeps behind my eyes, making my jaw clench.
I try to push her, but Andromeda grabs my wrist and pinches my cheeks, keeping my mouth open.
Gradually, a mist envelops my mind in a limbo. Silence, peace. I feel calm, with no worry in the world.
Relief is almost immediate, causing my muscles to relax.
Moments pass before Andromeda releases my cheek with a stroke and whispers again, "Can you open your eyes, darling?"
I try, first the right eye, then the left, blinking in the soft light. It doesn't hurt anymore.
"Hello," Andromeda greets with a smile. Merlin, what a lovely smile. The light from the door behind her almost makes her look like an angel.
"Hi," I reply, feeling a bit foolish, but Andromeda keeps smiling, so it's okay to act like this if I can see that smile forever.
Someone coughed somewhere in the room.
I squint in confusion until I remember the presence of my personal bogeyman. It was just Narcissa.
"You certainly didn't call me a bogeyman," the blonde growled, her teeth clenched and eyes narrowing in disbelief.
"I didn't, just thought," I state simply, clinging to Andromeda like a lifebuoy so I can sit up.
"Semantics," snapped the blonde.
"Whatever," I huff in irritation. Can she just shut the fuck up?
"You're welcome, by the way," mocked Narcissa, tossing her head arrogantly.
I wanted to punch her. "I won't thank you for the bare minimum of human decency. You were the one who worsened my migraine in the first place."
"You could at least be a bit more grateful."
"You could be a bit less annoying."
Andromeda falls silent, looking from one witch to the other as if watching a tennis match.
"Right. Merlin forbid the words 'thank you Narcissa' come out of your mouth in the same sentence." Her sarcasm deepens. "You're a pain in my ass, you know that?"
"How hypocritical of you, isn't it? Do you even thank me for anything? At least I'm not an arrogant bitch, period."
"Fine, next time, I'll leave you moaning in pain alone," said Narcissa, crossing her arms.
"I would thank you; your perfume is too sweet." I declared, waving my hands in the air to emphasize my point.
She laughed, hands on hips. "Funny you say that, considering you're the one who gave it to me."
"What?"
"Enough," exclaimed Andromeda, her eyes turning wild and face flushing. "You two sound like a pair of squabbling children. I'm not going to listen to this, it's ridiculous. And you," she pointed directly at me, "are going home and resting."
"What?" I repeated, still shocked, looking back and forth between each witch to make sure I wasn't going crazy.
Before I could open my mouth again, Andromeda was lifting me up, one hand firmly on my waist to keep me upright.
"No arguments. When I come back, you better be asleep, preferably in bed."
Narcissa made way for us to pass, her face twisted in a scowl. She seemed about to shout, or maybe smoke would come out of her ears. But all I could think about was the last thing I heard when I looked into the blonde's clear eyes.
What did she mean by 'considering you're the one who gave it to me'?
The last thing I saw as I crossed the threshold was Narcissa's furrowed brow, narrowed eyes, and then she tilted her head.
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