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Phoenix Rising
A Harry Potter RPG
Getting Our Due 
28th-Sep-2006 12:07 am
intense
I shift uncomfortably and try to readjust myself in this tiny bed that’s as hard as an eight-hundred year old petrified troll head.

It’s been days since the events in the labyrinth. After a couple of days of just sleeping, I woke to the news that thankfully all of us are going to be just fine. Padma, Susan, and Lav have been treated for their injuries and Justin is apparently getting some hypnotic-chanting treatment in a locked ward. I can’t help but wonder how fine he could be if they’re detaining him somewhere and singing to him. If anything is broken, I hope the Mind Healers are able to put Justin back together again. The Healers here at Hippocrates Imenhotep (say that name fast ten times fast) have made it very clear that Oliver and I, to a lesser extent, need to stay here to recuperate before heading back home.

I tug on the sheet, trying not to hit myself in the chest or strain anything (broken ribs and torn muscles still need time to heal even with magical intervention). I accidentally pull it from where it was tucked under the mattress at the bottom of the bed, revealing my feet which are dangling helplessly off the end. Because of the bandages and the reknitting bones, I can’t reach down to recover my own feet. I groan. Not again. Last time I was like this for hours.

“Try lying diagonal, mate.”

I look up to find Oliver sitting up in his bed across the room, grinning. He’s still a little pale, but it’s a drastic improvement from the alarming bluish hue he had for days.

“Hey, you’re awake,” I say surprised, but happy. “I thought they put you out for a while with all of that incense and healing spells.”

“Is that why my bed stinks like it does?” asks Oliver, raising his eyebrows and looking around. “I thought it was me.” He holds up the unburned end of a bundle of grasses and what looks like sticks and sniffs and then gags. “Ugh, smells like Wartcap Powder and cat urine.” He immediately drops the unburned incense over the side of his bed where it lands on the marble floor with a quiet swooshing sound.

“Nice,” I say, smiling. “I thought it smelled more like a combination between moldy yogurt, sour milk, and month-old potato curry.”

“I’m not going to ask how or why you know what that smells like.”

Ah, the joy of returning home after a month away. I’m reminded once again about the outcome of Peru and how bizarre it was replanting myself back in London after Ernie’s death. I can’t help but dread going back to home again for some reason. Maybe it has something to do with coming to terms with the fact that none of us are positive about what happened with the Horcrux – at least I can’t remember anything. Maybe Padma knows….

She and I haven’t had a chance to really talk yet. I’ve been sleeping up until yesterday, and since then I think she’s been reluctant to address the issue of me leaving her out of the whole Greece escapade because she’s concerned about me. But I know that once I’m better, I’m in for an earful. I know I’m in trouble. I deserve pretty much anything that she gives me – I just hope that my stay in the ward for the severely hexed is relatively short and painless.

I position myself diagonal on the bed, but my feet are still hanging off the end. I gaze at the frescos painted on the small domed ceiling of our room. The art is amazing, but even the moving images of Greek athletes and gods now fail to entertain. Oliver is fiddling with his pillows and flopping around. He picks up a magazine and then lays it back down.

“This is bullocks,” I say finally. “Are you as uncomfortable as I am?”

Oliver wiggles his toes under his sheets and I see that his feet are dangling off the bed as well. “Bored,” is all he says frowning. “I hate doing nothing. Do you know what happened to my broom? A couple of laps around the pitch in some fresh air would do me some good.”

“Yeah,” I say, liking the prospect of getting out of this bed and this room that reeks like cat urine and food mold. I haven’t been on a broom since my short stint as Chaser back in sixth year, but strangely I feel like flying would be a great way to leave all of this behind for a while.

Oliver and I look at each other, glance across the room where two hoverchairs squat by the door, and then grin slowly. Without a word we turn over our covers and swing our legs over the side of our stone-lined midget beds. I test my feet on the floor and ease myself forward until I can push myself into a standing position. The room sways and I hastily reach for the edge of the round marble with the mosaic top teetering next to my bed.

“Whoa,” breathes Oliver from the other side of the room as he leans heavily against the wall, shaking his head as if to clear it. Apparently days spent not moving and stuck in bed do have an effect, regardless if you are a professional athlete or not. But both of us are determined to do something other than just sit here, so we slowly make our way over to two hoverchairs.

“Not too bad,” says Oliver, the smile returning to his face as he checks out the controls on his chair once we’re both sitting comfortably. “It’ll be a good broom replacement.”

I glance down at the small buttons on the arm rest, my heart beating excitedly in my chest. Then I notice that the commands are written in Greek. But it seems like Oliver has read my mind.

“We don’t need to know Greek – these things are intuitive,” he says confidently, his finger hovering over a bright green button with a funny leaf on it. “Watch, this is eassyyyyyyyy – whaooo!” He goes zooming out the door where I catch sight of his hoverchair turning abruptly and then streaking off down the hall, his white patient’s robes streaming behind him.

Not wanting Oliver to have all the fun and curious about where he’s going, I pound on the identical green button and the chair lurches forward. I find myself I’m racing down the hall, the chair carrying me to wherever the green leaf button leads to with my head smashed against the back of the chair and a huge grin plastered on my face. “Whooo!” I yell, unable to help myself. Holy Merlin, I need to get one of these!

After zooming down a handful of marble corridors, through a Roman-style bath, narrowly missing a fountain spurting bubbles and pink water, and then past a group of shrieking witches running every which way, the hoverchair comes to a halt in a huge garden full of fig and olive trees. Grape vines dangle from overhead trellises and purple globes hang heavily from them, ripe and ready to eat as the sun filters through the leaves. I’m breathless and laughing and barely notice the pain in my chest.

Oliver’s face has color in it again and his hair is standing up in all directions from windy ride. He’s got bubbles sticking to him and his white robes are flecked with pink moisture. “Where’d that fountain come from?” he laughs. “Did you pass those witches?” He holds up a pink towel.

My eyes grow wide, “You didn’t!” I snort as realization hits. “That was a witches-only healing bath!”

Oliver nods and gasps and sputters, “I just ended up with this towel over my face. Some witch lost it….”

We burst out laughing.

Suddenly, we hear loud voices talking in Greek coming from one of the entrances. We glance at each other. It’s clear that neither of us fancy being hauled back to our room and risk having our new form of entertainment be confiscated.

“This one,” I whisper, pointing to an orange button with what looks like a weird-shaped loaf of bread on it. “Maybe it’s the kitchens. I’m hungry.”

Oliver grins at me, and with a nod we slam our hands down and are rocketing away back through the halls of Hippocrates Imenhotep.
 
1st-Oct-2006 02:31 am (UTC)
Dean and I zoom through the halls of this healing place. The paintings on the walls are mere blurs and the shouts from the staff chasing us fades quickly until we run into another one that quickly joins the chase.

Our hoverchairs take us through a strange painting of a man lounging on a chaise and being fed grapes from several women. Must be a very old painting. How a wizard could get a witch to wait on him like that nowadays is beyond me. Besides, I like my feisty independent witch.

Thinking about Lavender reminds me that I haven't seen her yet. Dean didn't mention her either. Surely she's all right or he wouldn't be out racing with me either.

My hover chair stops suddenly and I grip the armrests to keep from being thrown out of it. Before me is the best things I've laid my eyes on in weeks. A huge chocolate cake.

I quickly dig in. I can almost feel the chocolate racing through my veins. It's like I was going into withdrawals and it's a welcoming drug that my body absorbs as quickly as humanly possible.

I believe my hover chair senses my wants.

Maybe not - since I didn't awake with my face buried in Lavender's hair with her snuggled close to me in bed.

I quickly change thoughts so my hoverchair doesn't head back to the witches-only bath. I know I didn't go through there on purpose but I'm sure no one will believe that my chair made me.

There are loud noises from the hallway. "I think they went this way," someone yells.

Dean and I look at each other. He grabs another large bite of his roast beef sandwich. The sandwich is piled so high that I wonder how he got it into his mouth. He places the rest of his sandwich in his lap and I push the last remaining crumbs on my now empty plate away.

Looking down at the control panel of the hoverchair, I wonder where to go now. Take me to Lavender, I think. It doesn't move. Maybe the chair knows what good for me since Lavender is probably still mad at me.

"Yellow button?" Dean asks.

I look down. Why not? "Yellow button," I say with a nod.

We whoosh through a different exit and up a flight of stairs and around many corners. We slow down in a long dark hallway. Something doesn't feel right.

Our chairs turn sharply and we slow down to enter a small room one at a time. A green clad woman is in there. She turns and I see here holding a very long needle. Some medicine squirts from the tip.

"Oh you've arrived for your shot. Turn around and bend over," she says in a no nonsense manner.

"Oh, hell no," I exclaim, looking at dean. His face is very pale and his mouth open.

He looks over at me with wide eyes. "Big neutral tan button fast," he screams.

I waste no time pushing the big button with the bed drawn on it. We zip down hallways again we the nurse calling that we can't get away from her because she knows where our rooms are.

We come to a doorway and I can see it's too small for both chairs and neither have slowed down to go through properly. The chairs sense our fear and urgency to get back to our rooms. They won't slow down until we get there.

Unfortunately, the door doesn't sense any urgency and doesn't widen.

Wham!

Dean and I collide with the doorway. We both lay on the floor panting, hoping someone besides needle lady will find us.

"That was fun," I say, thinking how much Wild Child would have enjoyed the ride. But he would have had to have his own hoverchair as mine isn't big enough for two and I definitely don't want him in my lap. That place is for Lavender only for the rest of my life.

"Yesh it wuz," Dean says muffled. I look over and he's finishing off the last of his sandwich. He really was hungry.
1st-Oct-2006 02:32 am (UTC)
Everything starts blurring and I straighten my head to see and angry Lavender standing over me.

Merlin, she's beautiful when she's angry. I can never resist an angry Lavender. That must be why I make her mad so much.

I reach for her when I notice her face start to sag.

I shake my head and try to focus my eyes but it doesn't help. I look her up and down and realize she's drooping everywhere. Wrinkles and rolls appear and multiple. Great Godric, she's getting old!

I can't do anything except stare in horror as she shrinks and parts of her elongate toward the ground.

Lavender grabs her face with both hands and starts yelling, "I'm melting! I'm melting!"

I can't do anything. We're in a healing place! Where is everyone? Why can't someone help her?

I gape as Lavender wastes away to a puddle on the floor. The puddle still moves and swirls. What is going on?

The swirling puddle starts to slowly change colors. Where it was once a colorful mixture of all that was Lavender, it is now a smooth dark brown color.

The puddle starts bubbling. At first it bubbles slowly then increasing as if it was being boiled. Gradually, it starts to form and take a shape. It grows taller and taller and curves appear on the shape in all the right places.

When it stops, I can't believe my eyes. Both of my favorite things combined into one. It's another chocolate Lavender just like at my birthday party. I'm not sure whether I should eat the chocolate or put her in a cool place to savor later.

While pondering my decision, the chocolate Lavender blurs and appears in full lifelike color. Angry expression and all.

Oh! A candy coating!

I can't resist myself. I lean up and lick up the statue's arm.

That's when I notice it. The Lavender that suddenly looms looking down at me with a disgusted look on her face is real... not chocolate and definitely not candy coated.

I hope this is one of those bad nightmares I awoke from because she looks pissed. I'm supposed to be in bed.

Maybe it's a good thing I'm in the hospital as mad as she looks. Of course angry means sexy when it concerns Lavender but then there's the yelling. I see her take a huge breath and I await the loud lecture I know is coming.
1st-Oct-2006 02:34 am (UTC)
"There they are!" A burly nurse points down the hall to two sprawled figures on the floor. Healer Alkimos is trying to hide his grin behind his hand and is coughing to cover his laughter. I give him a dirty look before marching ahead of him and standing right above Oliver and Dean and try to count to ten to help calm myself. It doesn't work.

I can't believe these two!

I can actually feel my right eye twitch as Oliver lays on the ground blinking rapidly at me. He's not supposed to be out of bed, let alone racing along the halls in hoverchairs!

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I bellow. Heads peak out from around doors at my shout and I can feel my cheeks heat in embarrassment. I help Oliver up from the floor and can't help but giggle when he turns around to get back into his chair. "Your bum is showing."

Oliver hastily closes his gown and looks to see if anyone else noticed. Dean is staring everywhere but Oliver, so I guess he got an eyeful.

"You both need to get back to your rooms," Padma says sternly. Her eyes are flashing and Dean seems to shrink a bit. I cross my arms and give my own look to Oliver which has him pressing buttons on the chair and slowly making his way back to the room he shares with Dean.

"I'll keep an eye on him," I tell Padma. "Dean's all yours." The nurses and Healer Alkimos watch us leave and once we turn round the corner, uproarious laughter can be heard. I grit my teeth and keep walking.

I'm silent on the trek back to the room. I'm still extremely angry with him for leaving England and not telling me. I'm also angry that he got hurt because of that damn Horcrux. The more I think on it, the angrier I get until it takes all my willpower to control the fury building inside of me. I stalk into the room and watch Oliver struggle lifting himself from the chair back into bed. I would have helped, but with the way I'm feeling right now, I'd help him out the damn window and over a cliff.

I notice Dean and Padma enter the room a moment later. She and I share a look of understanding as I close the curtains sharply and face the idiot in the bed.

I quirk a brow and start tapping my foot. His mouth opens a few times, but no words come out. At this point I know that he'll sit there, not saying a word hoping I'll get frustrated enough to just leave. Well, he won't be that lucky.

"What were you prats thinking? We were worried sick!" I whisper furiously as I poke him in the chest and ignore his wince. "How could you leave and not say anything to me?"

"I was trying to protect you," Oliver said quietly. "I didn't want you to get hurt."

"Oh that's brilliant," I exclaim. "You're the one who got hurt!" And the memory of that time burned itself into my mind. I choke back my tears and focus instead on my anger.

"Do you have any idea how frightened I was when I realized where you were? What would happen to Liam? He needs you. I need you."

"Is it too much to ask for me to protect my family? If that Horcrux found its way into Lucius' hands..."

"Oliver, you have always done your best to shield us from danger. Unfortunately, with the dark times we live in, it's inevitable that we got caught up in the majority of it. You need to let your insecurity about not being an able protector go. We all have had to fight."

"What if something had happened to you or Liam? How could I live with myself?" Oliver's eyes are tortured as they meet mine and my anger melts away. I crawl into bed next to him and feel his arms around me. For the first time in days I feel as if I'm right where I've always belonged.

"I wonder the same thing," I hesitate briefly and lift my eyes to meet his. "You and I have to be more careful. Not only for Liam, but for the child I now carry."
1st-Oct-2006 02:35 am (UTC)
"What?" Oliver clutches my shoulders and stares at me with shock. "What did you say?"

"I'm pregnant," I tell him. "Artemis... she told me. I had no idea! I mean, I thought the dizziness and the nausea were lingering affects of the curse, but they weren't."

I hold my breath and wait for a response, any response. It seems that Oliver has been struck speechless by my news. The more time goes by, the more I believe my news isn't as welcome as I thought. I pull back from him and quickly avert my gaze so he won't read the hurt in my eyes. Why would I think he would want a child with me? I know he said he loved me, but we never discussed having children.

"I know it's a bit of a shock," I say shakily. I attempt to get out of bed, but Oliver is holding my arms tightly and the open mouthed look is still there. "I won't b-be a b-b-burden." I can't stop the tears now, they're streaming down my face and tightening my throat. "I understand that you aren't ready for another child... especially with me. I'm sure I'd make a h-h-horrible mother..."

"What? Wait... what?" Oliver shakes himself and next thing I know I'm crushed against his chest. "A baby?" He pulls back and the grin that splits his face breaks through like the morning sun through a bank of clouds. Then he's laughing like a loon. "A baby!" He whoops. "We're going to have a baby!"

"You're not mad?" I ask. I'm in a bit of a daze and not sure what is going on.

"Of course not! I'm going to be a father again!" Another bone crushing hug and then we're both laughing. He places a large hand over my stomach and then leans over. "He or she is in there." He says with awe as he looks up at me. "So small..."

I place my hand over his. "He'll be strong, like his father." I whisper.

"He?" Oliver lays me on the bed and leans over me. "You need to rest. Don't move." I laugh at the concern on his face. "Where's the healer? He should look at you."

"Prat," I say sternly. "I've already seen the healer. He says the baby is fine. I've got vitamins and he wrote up a diet for me and what I can and can't do. We're fine."

Oliver grins again and then puts his ear against my stomach. "Hello in there," he croons. "I'm your daddy. I'm looking forward to meeting you."

The tears start all over again and I run my hands through his hair. This moment is perfect. Well, almost perfect. There is one thing I want to do. Suddenly I'm extremely nervous.

"Oliver?"

"Hmmm?" He doesn't change positions. He keeps murmuring to my belly and running his hand over it.

"Well, don't you think the baby should have a name?"

"We've got plenty of time to think of a name."

I grit my teeth in frustration and try again. "No. That's not what I meant. Don't you think that the baby should carry your name?"

That got his attention. He shifts slightly and glances up. "What do you mean?"

"Well, what I mean is... I think we should get married."

"Excuse me?" For the second time in a matter of minutes, Oliver's mouth is hanging open.

"I think we should get married." I hurry on before he can interrupt. "It's not just because of the baby. I should have said yes to you when you first asked me. I was scared... so scared that I would ruin any chance of a future we would have. I feel as if I failed in my first marriage. So..."

"Then if we're going to do this, I want it to be as soon as possible before you change your mind." Oliver says matter-of-factly. I grab him and trail kisses all over his face.

"It'll take a few days to get everything prepared. You still need to rest. I have to find a dress. There's a lot to do. Susan and Padma can help me..." My mind is working furiously over the details. I won't have much time to put it together and I don't want it to be like my first wedding. Something simple and small. Something that suits this new phase of my life. I can't wait to get started.
1st-Oct-2006 02:36 am (UTC)
I get Dean back into bed as quickly and as painlessly as possible. I think I’ve chewed a hole in my tongue, trying to get him settled again before I let him know what I think about his little race. I can hear Lavender already tearing into Oliver, even though she’s trying to do it quietly, and I can tell from Dean’s face he’s anticipating me doing the same. He’s right.

“How dare you!” I exclaim in my best angry whisper. “This whole thing was your idea?” He nods guiltily and turns his head towards the wall. “You could have been hurt! The healers wanted you resting in bed for a reason! Did you really not consider that you could have gotten hurt again? Did you not consider how much it would hurt me to have you hurt again?”

Dean shakes his head and I can see the regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was hungry.”

“Promise you won’t do it again,” I urge him. “I need to know that you aren’t going to take anymore reckless chances with your life. I need to know that I’m not going to lose the man I love over something reckless.”

“We were just in the kitchens…I didn’t think our race was-” he begins but I cut him off.

“I meant running away to Greece. You took a huge risk, and you didn’t even tell me about it! I know you probably wouldn’t have died from your little race just now, but it scares me that you’ll just make another risky decision in the future and I won’t get you back next time.”

Dean reaches out and takes my hand and squeezes it. Then he gives me that grin of his. “I can’t promise I’ll never run off to the kitchens in search of food, but I can promise to let you know before I do.”

He’s horrible, he always knows how to get me to forgive him. I feel my anger dissolving as he sits there and gives me his innocent look and challenges me not to laugh. “That’s all I ask,” I reply with a straight face. “But no more wheelchair racing! Not only were you supposed to be resting, but you could have hurt other sick people!” I smile, finally feeling like my mothering moment is gone.

“Fine,” Dean replies with a grin, “but will you quiet down a bit? I think I heard Lavender tell Oliver she was pregnant a few moments ago.”

My mouth forms a silent “Oh” and I collapse on the edge of Dean’s bed. I glance first at the curtain separating us from Lavender and Oliver, then towards the front of the room. I realize that Justin’s in the room with us, though by the way he’s inching towards the door it doesn’t look like he’ll be in here for long.
1st-Oct-2006 02:37 am (UTC)
Justin starts inching to the door and trying to pull me out with him. Probably trying to keep me from getting mad at him.

It then dawns on me what Lavender said...She's pregnant.

I’m truly happy for them, but a small part of me is jealous, no matter what I told Justin a few moments ago. This is bittersweet news to receive on top of ours.

I look over at Justin to see if he’s cottoned on and I notice him trying to make a run for it. Either because of the yelling or unable to handle the news that our best friends are expecting, I don't know. I do know if he walks out that door, he'll regret it no matter what the reason.

"Where do you think you’re going?"
1st-Oct-2006 02:38 am (UTC)
"Back with the checker eaters," I answer defiantly. "I’m not taking the blame for this race that Dean and Oliver were in..."that I missed, damn it!

"And Lav could get something in ward forty nine for that throbbing V-shaped vein in her forehead..." I say in awe.

"Justin, if you take one more step, you’ll be eating checkers for the next five years," Susan tells me, her hands now on her hips, the spitting image of the shadow of how Lavender had looked behind the curtain, although I can see that Lavender’s stance had softened before she sat on the bed and Oliver hasn’t said a word. Hm, ward forty nine in this place wasn’t so bad after all. Between there and Hampstead Heath I should be able to sit out the wrath of the left-behind-witches.

As much as I want to joke and as much as I know that Susan isn’t nearly as mad at me as she lets on, I just can’t. We’ve talked about my duties in the MLE so she is more used to being left out of my plans than Padma or Lavender would be, though it nearly killed me to lie to her about going to Greece.

I feel a pain in my entire body that has nothing to do with injury. I choke down my jealousy. Lavender’s having a baby. Oliver is going to be a father again...

All eyes turn to the curtain around Oliver’s bed which is pulled closed so fast that we hear the popping of the hooks holding it into place, followed by a magical loudspeaker announcement, automatically calling for maintenance to room forty-two. Padma and Dean have gotten quieter too and I swear you could hear a pin drop now.

Susan is now fully emotional from the news of Lavender’s pregnancy and has pulled the curtains to hug her and Oliver. I have wronged her by lying to her about the mission to this place and even though I can’t help what happened to me when I was twelve, I feel I’m still wronging her. I can barely force myself to cross the room to shake Oliver’s hand. I’m happy for them. I really am. So why do I feel like I owe what I can never hope to pay to Susan? I promised her so much more than I am.
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