The situation progressively became more uncomfortable as the pair stood in the center of the crowded ward, chaos reigning around them. While usually drawn to the girl’s quick wit and bright personality, something gnawed at Michael and made him want to plunge back into dealing with the patients scattered around him. He tried to smile and shrug at the question, only managing a concerned look with a short chuckle. “Aye, it’s a crazy day,” he said quickly, waving his hands about to indicate the state of the hospital. Why in the world was she here? And why was she behaving as though she’s seen a ghost? He wondered briefly if the sight of the blood and relative carnage around the room was enough to make her stomach turn, but Michael couldn’t help but assume this wasn’t the case. She was hiding something from him. The way her laugh broke nervously, her dark eyes searching for an escape, it became painfully obvious that he was obstructing her from her goal. He’d stumbled into some sort of secret that he had no business knowing - but this was his territory. On any other day, in any other place, Michael would likely have found himself standing pleasantly to the side, happy to forget this encounter had happened. But not today.
The way the other healer’s name exited her lips, Michael almost didn’t understand what the girl had said at first. He found himself leaning forward as though he expected more, an explanation or an elaboration that wasn’t to come. The words echoed in his head without clicking, his eyes searching his friend’s ashen expression for an answer until it rang in his ears, the implication painfully obvious. “King.” Michael repeated without meaning to, his eyes narrowed as his gaze fell sideways and down to the floor in thought. Pieces of information flooded back, his mind trying to cycle through a compendium of memories to make sense of what the dark-haired girl had just admitted. Despite his best attempts at piecing this information into some sort of logical framework, some explanation that would negate what she’d just said, he couldn’t manage it. Michael’s head began to bob gently, nodding as though in a trance, as he lifted an arm to gently place behind Lavender’s back to shepherd her through the chaotic room. “Right. This way,” He said quietly, leading her from the room and beyond the swinging double doors and into the quiet hallway beyond.
As the door swung shut behind him, Michael paused, his eyes finding Lavender’s as they stood stock still. “This isn’t something new. The next full moon’s coming up in a few days, ” Michael said flatly, not a question so much as a statement of truth he’d managed to glean from the situation. He wasn’t sure how he was feeling in the moment - his skin seemed electric, each hair standing on end as he continued to stare intently at Lavender, unflinching. He’d often felt like he pitied those with the sort of affliction she bore - carrying it around like a yoke that was impossible to shed. As he stared at his friend however, the sense of pity he’d imagined feeling faded to be replaced with an intense respect - not only for the girl who stood in front of him, but for the strength it must have taken to not only survive the initial attack but to endure on a daily basis. He hard a hard time envisioning what he’d do confronted with a similar obstacle, let alone something so permanent and stigmatizing. Finally, his pursed lips broke into a hint of a smile.
“Godric, Lavender - the way you were acting I thought you only had a week to live or summat. I…I know you probably didn’t want to tell me about this. Frankly, I feel sort of dense that, as a Healer, I didn’t know sooner. Tell me - is it well managed? I know King usually takes on most of the toughest cases,” He said with quiet understanding, his hand subconsciously rubbing the small of the girl’s back. His voice was devoid of fear or condescension, his face kind as he elaborated. “You know if you ever need me to grab anything from the hospital for you that I would, right?”
She could remember the first time she met Healer Alexander King, the very same day she woke up in hospital after the battle of Hogwarts, her face stinging. A greying man with kind eyes but thin lips that so rarely smiled at her, he had sat on the end of her bed, patted her leg and told her it was manageable. That there were potions for the pain and control. Potions Lavender Brown couldn’t afford. Perhaps she could ask her parents to pay and eventually give them the money back but then she would have to admit to her family that she was a werewolf — and she had managed to go nearly two years without them finding out and with her father’s weakening heart… she didn’t want to take the risk. She didn’t want to see anymore disappointment crumple their faces. She could hear her sister, Violet’s, voice.
“Godric Lavender. How did you manage to fuck up so much that you got yourself turned into a werewolf?”
“Yeah,” she said softly, eyes falling away from Michael’s face. “King.” His soft touch landed on her back and though it was a far cry from a push, she did little to resist it, following his guided walk. She should’ve told him before. But a small part of her figured that he already knew. Whether he could’ve guessed from the scars that marred her formally pretty features or just from the rumours (were there rumours about her? She figured there would be). Her jaw clenched, the pain of her teeth grinding grounding her. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Was she really going to cry? Did Michael Corner matter to her that much that she was about to break down in public? At least it was in a hospital of all places. People would just assume a healer was telling a visitor bad news.
She couldn’t make out any emotion on his face, though maybe that was because of the tears threatening to spill over. “N— no. The battle,” she whispered, breath hitching. “Greyback attacked me.” The memory of him, half-wolf half-man, lunging at her through the air as she fell from the balcony made her shiver. For so long, she had thought the stars had fated her to die that night and when Hermione Granger saved her from Greyback’s attack, the universe had decided to punish her with lycanthropy for upsetting their course. “The full moon’s in a few days,” she repeated, though she wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like it was a reminder of her. Even before her attack, she had mapped the moon’s cycle. Once she had turned, her mapping had become almost religious. She counted down the days, her stomach sinking with each change of the moon.
When he finally spoke up, a tear or two escaped from her watering eyes and before she really knew what he was doing, she threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. She clutched onto him like he was a life ring and she was struggling to swim. Eventually, she stood up, running a hand under her eyes and trying for a small smile that matched his. “I’m sorry I just— I don’t know why, I was just really worried that you’d be… scared of me. Or hate me. It was kind of nice that you didn’t know.” She sniffed. “I should’ve known better.” Her sad smile lifted slightly, eyes still wet. “It’s… not good. I can’t afford insurance so no wolfsbane for me,” she sank, trying to make light of such a serious matter. “I see Healer King every month because of the pain when I…. when I change. It’s not a fun time.” Another pathetic attempt at humor.
“I know that now. I— thank you, Michael.”
