When Lavinia woke the next morning, she didn't immediately understand why someone was holding her hand. And when she blinked the bleariness from her eyes, she didn't understand why Sirius was fast asleep in a chair next to her bed. But reality didn't remain suspended for long and its return was one of the most painful things Lavinia had ever experienced. She felt as though she were pinned to the mattress by the weight of yesterday's memories. She wanted to go back to sleep. She wanted to not think. She wanted anything other than the awful thoughts worming their way through her skull.
Getting out of bed was too much. Moving was too much. So she simply laid there and waited. For what, she didn't know. For the world to end maybe, though it felt like it already had because Regulus... Regulus...
Lavinia rolled over, her arms bending awkwardly to keep hold of Sirius's fingers. Despite the strange angle of her shoulder, however, she didn't dare let go of his hand. Part of her felt like he was a lifeline, a tether, and if she left go she would be swallowed up by the abyss she could feel gaping below her.
As it happened, she did get out of bed, if only because both Remus and Sirius insisted. She planted herself on the couch and tried not to hate the world for daring to move on as normal. For daring to exist like nothing had happened.
That was perhaps the worst part: that aside from the hell in her head, nothing much had changed. She hadn't seen Regulus in over a year so his absence wasn't noticeable in everyday life except for the gaping hole in her chest where he had always been. And no one else was really grieving because she was surrounded by people who had never really known Regulus, much less cared about him.
If she tried, she could almost pretend that she'd never received that letter, that she was just waiting for a reply still. That one of these days, an owl would come soaring in through the window, or Paris would leave for a few days and come back with an envelope tied to his leg.
But then, of course, reality set in and she went tumbling into that void, spiraling and crushed under the weight of renewed grief. It would happen at the smallest things, when his name popped into her head as she thought of something she would like to tell him, or when she remembered some little moment they'd shared. And each time, it was like a switch was flipped and the floor fell out from beneath her feet.
The evening of that first day, she got a letter from Mr. Hayes telling her in no uncertain terms that she was not to come to work until she was ready and to not worry about them or the ward as they would manage. It was most important that she come to terms with her grief.
Come to terms with it. That was what everyone kept saying. In time, she would come to terms with it. Like she could ever make sense of this hole in her heart. Like she could ever accept the death of her best and oldest friend. Like this pain was finite and would simply wear itself out so long as she stuck it through.
But she did stick it through, if only because the worry she saw in her friends eyes was enough to remind her that there were still people she cared enough about to live for. Enough to fight through this for.
So every morning, she forced herself to get out of bed. Every morning, she dragged herself into the living room with all the ease of pulling teeth. And every morning she tried to do one thing more. Not for her own sake. If left to her own devices, she was reasonably certain she would have just stayed in bed until she wasted away, but she couldn't stand the heart-wrenching concern in Sirius's eyes. She hated the way he always tried to smile for her, though it never reached his eyes. She hated that when he thought she wasn't looking, his head dropped down into his hands and his shoulders slumped in a manner that screamed at an exhaustion that went beyond a lack of sleep. She hated that she was still hurting him. That her pain kept bleeding over. That she didn't know how to make it stop.
But she was trying. And she tried by making sure that every day, she did one thing more. And some days, she didn't manage any more than a few words, just a good morning and a good night. Other days she could hold a conversation. And some days, it was all she could do to get out of bed. But every day, she did at least that much.
On Friday, she made dinner and found that she rather enjoyed being busy. Her hands had something to do and at the end of it she had something to give to her friends, something more than the hollow silence that had filled her these past days. Something more than the stress she could see lining their faces.
On Sunday, Mirriam showed up at the door with a basket of homemade scones and a more somber expression than Lavinia had ever seen on her face.
"I didn't see you all week," Mirriam explained as she stepped past Remus, who had let her into the house. "Even though I knew our shifts overlapped. And when I asked your Head Healer..." She sighed as she set the basket down on the coffee table and watched Lavinia with sympathy all over her face. "I'm so sorry to hear about your friend."
Lavinia didn't have an answer to that, but, thankfully, Mirriam didn't seem to expect one and before Lavinia had the chance to so much as open her mouth, the other girl had embraced her. Lavinia hesitated for a moment, then hugged her back. When Mirriam took her leave, Lavinia felt strangely better, as though Mirriam had soaked up some of the and taken it away with her. And with the ebb in the aching, she recognized a bubble of curiosity.
"What did you tell Mr. Hayes?" she asked Sirius, a bit hesitantly. She hadn't cared until now. She still couldn't decide if she cared, actually, but... well, she wasn't sure if people normally reacted to the death of a friend this way. But then, Regulus hadn't been just a friend to her. He had been her best friend, as good a brother and maybe better. And she couldn't riddle out why Mirriam seemed to understand that without Lavinia having ever mentioned it. And maybe that was just Mirriam's way, but...
"I told him the truth," Sirius said with a shrug, though his eyes were careful on her face. "That your best friend was gone. That you lost family."
And just like that, Lavinia was crying again. It happened a lot these days, actually. Small things set her off and she didn't know how to stop the flood of tears. It was as though, after that first night, she'd set a river running, like some spring had built up inside her and the tears, like her grief, were infinite.
She hated it, if she was honest. She hated how easily the semblance of calm she so carefully crafted could crumble into a breakdown. She hated how it made her feel weak.
Sirius and Remus were both firmly of the opinion that it was a good thing, relatively speaking. It was good for her, they said, to let it out, good that she wasn't bottling it up. Good that she still had it in her to cry.
Lavinia wasn't sure what to feel about this view, if she was honest. They were probably right, given her past experience with bottling things up until they overflowed. But she also couldn't help but think this would all be easier to bear, at least in the short term, if she could just shove it away and pack it down and try to forget about this particular hell. Which, of course, was what she had always done with her pain. And was exactly what her friends were afraid of.
The week after Lavinia had received the letter, James and Lily and Peter all stopped by and they all had dinner together. It might have felt like just another of their normal get togethers except that everyone seemed to be going out of their way to try to draw Lavinia into the conversations or else simply distract her.
She couldn't decide whether or not she was grateful for this. On the one hand, normal felt wrong right now. Normal felt like a slap in the face, like she was moving on too fast and letting go too easily. But she also couldn't help but think that one of these days she was really going to have to get back to normal if only so she could have something other than this crushing grief to focus on.
It was on a Tuesday two full weeks after the letter had arrived that Lavinia was reminded that normal could be a good thing. She was having one of those days, when the mere act of getting out of bed had seemed to drain her of all her energy. Not that it took much to achieve that. Her sleep was restless these days and combined with the mental drain of it all, she seemed to be in a constant state of exhaustion.
But she had made it to the couch and there she was sitting, trying to read the newspaper even as her eyes glazed over with mixed sleepiness and distraction. When someone knocked on the door, Lavinia raised her eyes from the pages in front of her and merely looked towards the door, trying to decide if it was worth the effort to stand up. She doubted it would be anyone she wanted to see. They weren't expecting anyone, she didn't think, but she also hadn't been paying much attention to the conversations in the house.
The knock sounded again and Remus came out of his room, glanced at Lavinia sitting on the couch, sighed and went to the door. She felt rather guilty then. She could have opened it. She could have done that much right? It wasn't like she was incapable. She was just... so tired.
But when Remus opened the door, he swore and swung it wide, reaching out as though to catch someone. Lavinia folded the paper and set it aside, watching even as her curiosity waned within seconds of appearing, replaced by a sort of static that had made its home in her head these past weeks.
But then Remus was supporting someone through the door and on the other side of a nearly unconscious figure was Albus Dumbledore, his face grave and his robes slightly bloodied.
Lavinia was on her feet before her head had registered what she was doing and had the chance to remind her that she didn't want to move. Instinct kicked in and she ignored her exhaustion as she grabbed her wand.
"Locomotor mensa," she murmured, effectively doubling the number of words she'd said that day. She might have done it nonverbally, but right now... right now she had neither the energy nor focus required for nonverbal magic. And this worked just fine.
The coffee table lifted a few inches above the floor and followed her wand as she directed it towards the side of the room. Then with another wave of her wand and murmured incantation, she conjured sheets which drifted down on top of the couch. She didn't want to have to clean later.
Evidently catching on to what she was doing, Dumbledore and Remus directed their footsteps towards the couch, laying the figure between them gently on the conjured sheets as Lavinia's eyes began a cursory inspection.
The person on her couch was a young woman, perhaps in her twenties or thirties, and she didn't seem to be in good shape. There was a nasty bruise blooming on her head and scrapes and scratches on her arms. A slice down the side of her face appeared to be the source of most of the blood, which was a relief because it was shallow. Head wounds just bled an obnoxious amount. At least it wasn't something worse. The something worse, actually, was the slight shimmering on the woman's hands and her unnatural stillness.
In a matter of minutes Lavinia had determined that it wasn't actually that bad. A freezing charm that was halfway through thawing, nothing more, though that did nothing to explain the rest of it. But it could all be managed with a few simple healing spells and Lavinia didn't ask questions about how. She simply worked, quickly and quietly, not letting her heart catch up to her until the woman was clean and resting.
"She may have a concussion," Lavinia sighed, pulling a blanket down from the back of the couch and settling it over the woman before turning to assess any cleaning that might need to be done. But the drips of blood trailing from the door to the couch were gone and Lavinia glanced in surprise at the two men who were now just standing. Dumbledore was tucking his wand back in a pocket of his robes and Lavinia realized that he must have charmed away the blood.
"Thank you, Miss Selwyn," the Headmaster said, inclining his head.
Lavinia shrugged. It hadn't been anything major. Actually, she wasn't entirely sure why he hadn't tried to clean the woman up on his own instead of bringing her here.
As though reading her thoughts, Dumbledore continued, "I worried that there might be more foul magic at work." He looked at the woman, and for a moment he looked old and tired. "I am a powerful wizard, Miss Selwyn," he explained, "But I have little talent for healing spells and I would not trust someone's life to my inexpert hands."
Lavinia made a strange noise in her throat, not entirely sure how to respond to that. It was probably good, she realized, that he knew where his weaknesses lay. And, she supposed, it made sense. Dumbledore was well known for his prowess with Transfiguration and defensive magic, but healing trended more towards charms and potions and while she had no doubt he was decent at both... Well, if he'd never studied it then it was a good thing he didn't attempt spells that might make things worse if improperly performed.
"Can you estimate a time frame for recovery?" Dumbledore inquired after a moment.
Jerking herself from her thoughts, Lavinia gave a vague nod. "If she doesn't have a concussion then she'll be good to go as soon as she wakes up. If she does, I'll give her a potion to take for a few days and she should be fine within the week."
Dumbledore nodded and there was another, slightly awkward pause. "I should take my leave," he informed them after a moment. "Tell Dorcas-" He gestured to the woman on the couch. "- that when she is ready, I would appreciate her report."
Lavinia nodded, glancing also at the woman. Maybe she would have to warn the woman to wait to report to Dumbledore if she did have a concussion. Over exertion wouldn't be good for her and at least in Lavinia's experience, conversations with the Headmaster were usually exhausting.
"And before I go," Dumbledore was now saying, "I would like to offer you my condolences, Miss Selwyn. I am sorry for your loss."
It was like a piano had fallen out of the sky and dropped squarely on top of her with a nasty, discordant clang. Her knees felt slightly weak and her throat tight. The exhaustion came crashing back in full force. She wanted to lie down. To sleep. To not think about this. But in the midst of that all consuming fog in her head, was a spark of something like anger.
"Don't pretend to care now he's gone," she reprimanded, her voice sounding hollow even to her own ears.
Dumbledore gave her a sad smile and shook his head. "Any death is a loss, Miss Selwyn," he informed her gently. "And I am sorry for it."
And he left, leaving Lavinia wondering vaguely if she had misjudged the man or if, perhaps, her last encounter with him might have actually achieved something. Not that it mattered, really. She glanced back at the woman on the couch, then down the hall towards her room. Would it be awful is she laid down in her bed? She honestly wasn't sure she'd ever get back up again.
So maybe... maybe elsewhere. For a moment there she hadn't felt so awful. For a moment there she'd been doing something... useful. She'd felt like herself again.
She sighed. "I'm going to find Sirius," she murmured.
Remus, who was watching her with a rather worried expression, nodded, looking slightly relieved. "He's in the garage," he offered.
Lavinia nodded vaguely, wondering if she should tell Remus to let her know if the woman woke up. But he had common sense and words... words felt difficult just now. So she brushed the thought aside and set off in the appropriate direction, willing her feet to keep moving, willing herself to not just sit down on the floor and stay there. Willing herself to try.
That night, she sent a letter to Mr. Hayes telling him she was ready to go back to work. This wasn't entirely true and Lavinia knew it. But she was ready for something. She was ready to be useful again. Ready for a distraction. And at least this way she could distract herself with something worthwhile.
A/N: Hello again! Not much to talk about today... I did this usual, wake up at noon, make breakfast and sit on the couch watching Netflix for most of the day. The only break from that was like 15 minutes to chuck a bunch of stuff in an Instant Pot and make chili, which, not to pat myself on the back or anything, but I'm totally bragging, is really good. But it's an instant pot so I threw everything in, turned it on and came back 40 minutes later to chili. Not super high effort and I then returned to the couch and my Netflix. Side note, about the Netflix, I got a free VPN a while ago and I then kinda forgot about it until today and holy crap British Netflix is amazing!? It has so many more movies and shows that US Netflix! Which makes sense bc the US is a solid mess of licencing and streaming competition. But y'all, UK Netflix is so good. I mean it has Ghibli movies, Brooklyn 99 and Doctor Who in addition to all the normal US Netlix stuff? Actually, UK Netflix doesn't seem to have Bake Off, which sucks, but that's what VPNs are for lol.
Anyway, as usual, I hope y'all enjoyed and I'll be back again tomorrow!