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i’m worried too | arabella & augusta

& arabella;

Thirty-two hours with no sleep.

A forgotten styrofoam cup of tepid coffee was resting on the arm of the vinyl covered chair Arabella had been perched on since their arrival. Once she had been certain that Minerva was under the best care, she had retired to the uncomfortable waiting room, unable to leave the hospital altogether. No one bothered her, though she was aware that other people involved in the mission were wandering the corridors - or had they left already? She realized, with a start, that she had lost all awareness of her surroundings. At one point she had been surrounded by people, and now she was alone.

She had been hunched for so long that her back popped loudly when she tried to straighten, blinking warily around as Augusta approached. “Have you seen her?” Arabella didn’t recognize her own voice, frantic but exhaustion, as it escaped her. “Oh,” Disappointment oozed into her tone when the woman turned the attention to her, instead of Minerva. “I’m fine, there’s no need for anyone to check me. I wasn’t the one hurt in all this mess.”

Augusta was someone who had always made her feel welcomed and safe, yet she didn’t feel anything other than bitterness and anger in that moment. How had they not woken her up yet? How did anyone let it go that far? She sighed, running a hand across her face to rub out the sleepiness from her eyes. “Do you think she’s going to be okay? I…I feel so useless but I can’t go home. Not until I know she’s going to wake up.”

Augusta sighed as Arabella inched further away from her, resisting a check-up. She sat down on the chair next to Arabella, leaning towards the younger woman. “Look, I’m worried about Minerva too, but you know she would kill us both if I didn’t make sure you were okay.” Augusta’s tone was firm, the tone of a mother who was used to her children getting hurt and brushing off her concern. “Let me just check you out.”

Augusta’s tone softened. “And yes, I have seen her. I’m the Head Healer assigned to her case. She’s in good hands.” Her confident look flickered only momentarily as the thought entered her mind that despite the fact that Minerva was in good hands, she should have woken up by now. A small sigh escaped full lips that were surrounded by perfectly applied makeup. Say what you would about Augusta, even when she was as frazzled as she felt now having her best friend, her son, and her future daughter-in-law (maybe) under her care, she never looked it.

At Arabella’s question, Augusta sat back, for a moment unable to meet Arabella’s eyes. It was easy to answer the question when Frank or Alice asked, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to give Arabella an answer that she herself wasn’t sure of. She hadn’t been able to give it to Alastor, either. Minerva meant too much to the three of them to peddle false hope.

“I don’t know.” She finally said, her tone soft. “But I do know this: Minerva McGonagall is a fighter. I’ve been friends with her since we were children, and if anyone can make it through this just fine...it’s Minerva.”

#arabella #arabella001 #{{p&p}}

starter call

AUGUSTA IS HERE AND PRESENT AND ACCOUNTED FOR. I could use some new threads to throw her back in the game, so if you’d like a thread with your favorite witch soccer mom, like this post!

#crtstarter

yourfriendzz

augusta-longbottxm-blog

@minerva-mcgonagxll + augusta

#{{meet augusta}}#{{you annoy the hell out of me but you're basically my sister}}

theweeklyfantasy-deactivated201

#{ visage }

subtleelevation-deactivated2018

#{ visage }

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lrachellexo

augusta-longbottxm-blog

Augusta Longbottom & Minerva McGonagall, circa 1969.

#{ visage }#{{you annoy the hell out of me but you're basically my sister}}

subtleelevation-deactivated2018

building stamina | katrina & augusta

March 19, 1979 Order Headquarters { @katrinaxparkinson }

They had been at it for hours, and Augusta was exhausted. Her entire body seemed to ache, both from the exertion and from the various hexes and curses that she hadn’t managed to deflect. Yet each bruise and welt, each sore muscle was a reminder of why it was that she needed to keep pushing herself forward. She wouldn’t have the option of sitting down to catch her breath in a battle, so she shouldn’t crave that luxury in her training sessions with other members of the Order.

Augusta knew she wasn’t in the best shape that so many other members of the Order seemed to be. She enjoyed swimming and running, but she rarely found the time to do either. Between her work at St. Mungo’s and her life as a mother, exercise had taken a backseat to everything else. Besides, Augusta had never been one to put exercise as a top priority. She had a lean figure that didn’t seem to need much upkeep, even after three children, and she took advantage of that fact.

But now that her life depended on her stamina in battle, Augusta knew she needed to prioritize building it up. So she pushed herself past the point that she really should during the training sessions, too stubborn to admit that she needed to take it a little slower. She had never been all that great at charms, so her ability to keep up with everyone else wasn’t as good as it needed to be, something that frustrated her to no end.

“Okay, alright, I’ll take a break,” she panted, finally giving in to the concerned comments that Katrina Parkinson wouldn’t stop making. She moved over to the edge of the room and sat down on a mat, feeling her muscles tense up as they finally were able to rest. With a sigh, she flopped over onto her side, starting up at Katrina. “Merlin, I’m pathetic.”

#//ignore the mask #katrina #katrina001 #also i'm trash at titles

bedside trio | alastor & augusta

March 11, 1979 St. Mungo’s Spell Damage Ward { @constantvigilancex }

Augusta was even more useless on Minerva’s case than she had been on Alice’s. It was one thing to have the fate of the woman her son loved in her hands, but entirely another to have the fate of one of her dearest friends in her hands. It was made even more difficult by the fact that Alastor couldn’t seem to help himself from hovering. He had arrived shortly after Minerva and refused to leave her bedside, something that would have made the corners of Augusta’s lips twitch upward were it not for the dire situation that Minerva had landed herself in.

Augusta sighed as she entered Minerva’s room, relieved that things had finally settled down to the point where there weren’t a team of healers hovering over the woman. Now they just had to wait for her to wake, which was perhaps the most difficult part. She made her way over to Alastor’s figure, hunched over in the chair next to Minerva’s bed. Alastor wasn’t one who adored physical expressions of affection, but Augusta felt safe to put her hand on his shoulder, looking down to meet his gaze once he looked up at her.

“You should get something to eat, Alastor,” she said, even though she knew it was useless. He had been there for hours and surely he was hungry or tired or even just needed the loo, but she doubted that he would leave Minerva now. The two were the dearest of friends (and Augusta suspected that there was something more there as well, but so far neither of them had seemed to realize it) and Alastor wouldn’t leave her now. Augusta couldn’t blame him. Her shift had ended hours ago, and yet here she was. The thought of going home while Minerva’s fate still hung in the balance was unbearable.

#alastor #alastor001 #{{p&p}}

i’m worried too | arabella & augusta

March 11, 1979 St. Mungo’s Spell Damage Ward { @mvgicless }

Augusta stood motionless at the doorway to Minerva’s room, leaning against the frame. Her friend had been brought here early this morning after some Order and Aversio members had managed to rescue her, and though she had been attended to hours ago, she had yet to wake up. Augusta tried to tell herself that it was normal. Minerva had suffered through a traumatic experience, her body and her mind needed time to recover. But it was no use. No amount of trying to tell herself the facts would stop the worrying.

Pushing off the door frame, Augusta left the room, wandering down the hallway. She had changed out of her healer robes a few hours ago, yet she hadn’t managed to make herself go home. Adelaide was staying at the manor with Annabelle, leaving Augusta free to stay at Minerva’s bedside until she woke up, even if she needed a shower and a long sleep.

Augusta’s feet took her to the waiting room at the far end of the floor, and she paused in the doorway, her eyes searching until they landed on Arabella Figg. The woman was sitting in the same chair she had been keeping vigil in for hours, hunched over. Arabella had been a part of the rescue mission. Augusta made her way across the room and sat down next to Arabella. “Has anyone checked to see if you have any injuries?” It was far more effective than if she were to ask ‘how are you?’

#arabella #arabella001 #{{p&p}}

first year checkup | amos & augusta

March 21, 1979 St. Mungo’s { @amxsdxggory }

Augusta Longbottom was a skilled healer. She was well practiced in attending to all manners of injuries and infections that cropped up in the wizarding world. She was well respected by the other staff at St. Mungo’s. But sometimes she had ideas about wizarding medicine that the rest were skeptical of. The biggest of these was her assertion that there should be a ward of the hospital devoted to caring for pregnant witches and children. It wasn’t common for witches to give birth at St. Mungo’s, nor was it a practice that parents would bring their children in for checkups unless they suspected that something was wrong.

Yet Augusta remained convinced that this was a good practice to have. Muggles did it, and even though wizards were free from needing to worry about many of the things that Muggles could fall victim to, there were still plenty of reasons for there to be care for pregnant witches and children. Augusta herself had nearly died in childbirth, even with all the magic and potions at her disposal, and perhaps Annabelle wouldn’t be as fragile as she was if there had been a place for Augusta to take her at St. Mungo’s.

So she had fought hard enough that the hospital had allowed her to begin seeing patients there, even if they were adamant that there would no new ward built. This was why Augusta was leading Amos Diggory (with his son in his arms) to a room that had been designated specifically for her. Upon entering the room, Augusta instructed Amos to settle Cedric down on the patient table and washed her hands before turning to face them. “So how is little Cedric doing?”

#amos #amos001

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