Checking In

Jack had slept a few hours. After the battle, she had run a quick errand, picking up a gun she had decided tp purchase a week prior, as she had a bad feeling that she was going to have some troubles in the muggle realm soon. And besides, a nice silver-tipped bullet would be great for her friend James Blood. It was a macabre, dangerous way to think, but this was the life she had decided to live. Well, not decided upon as much as been handed, but she would have to deal with it. It was her lot, and she had grown to deal with it with more grace and skill than most others.

After that, she had crawled home. Max had been too good to her, letting her sleep while he took Sunny to daycare and covered for her to her boss. She woke and ate and showered and dressed and found she was almost rested enough to do all that needed doing. And she was going to have a busy week ahead of her if she wanted to stop Blood before he struck again, which would be as soon as he could manage.

She knew she needed to visit the Yewbeam fellow that had been hurt in the battle. She had gone to school with him, she recalled, and he had been the only one badly injured enough to need hospitalization. Jack had always made it a point to visit those who suffered injuries under her command, because she believed part of being a leader was taking responsibility for all that happened when she was leading.

A Healer gave her the room and, when she came in, he was awake. She stepped in. "Hi, Henry. Doing alright?"

A stunner had sent him down to the floor, in fact he was already on the floor a stunner to the face simply finalised his unconsciousness. That led to him being an easy target for spells that ricocheted from the Walls, rubble that had fallen and the odd treading on as fighters ran here and there. 

Henry had been woken by a nurse that same afternoon asking to apply paste to his wounds. Wounds. That didn't make sense he'd only been knocked down hadn't he? But when the nurse had handed him a mirror a black eye, a chipped tooth and badly grazed jaw stared back at him. Nasty. Thankfully they weren't too extensive, simply superficial. A broken nose had been mended and the bruise mended paste was doing it's job - according to the nurse.

The death eater couldn't believe his luck. Were the healers aware where he had been? Did they know he was a death eater? Wait... What would the death eaters say? He remembered he'd broken the cold war, stepped out of line and initiated the duelling, did that mean a punishment would come his way?

'Oh.. Hi.' Henry replied, turning his worried eyes from a window after pondering for an hour or so what would come to happen to him. It was Jack Dyllan. Admittedly the death eater was slightly unnerved to see her, would she too be as angry as the death eaters? Would she be carrying out his punishment? Surely not in St Mungo's! 

'I'n fine, yeah, I, I think so.' She was being friendly, asking him how he was? Nobody ever asked him how he was, in fact nobody apart from Scorpius Malfoy gave him the time of day lately. How strange. For a moment Henry was beginning to feel normal, until of course he released his fingers were scratching the sheets beneath the covers. Sugar. Spice. High. He certainly would be needing those when he was out of the hospital.

'How come you're here?' Henry asked, staring cautiously at the red head. 

The man looked a bit worried, and more than uneasy. Jack would not be able to say she did not appreciate it. It had been a long time since she had been among a group of people who knew just how dangerous it wasto displease her. She had been surrounded by upper-class Ministry people who had forgotten her place in the Ministry and thought of her only as a vapid Quidditch player. And it wasn't that she wanted people to just randomly fear her? But it did something to a person when they went from taking down ilegal werewolf rings to being forced through hoops by her dull coworkers. Some recognition was a little nice.

She strolled into the room a little further, walking over to the clipboard set up at the foot of the bed. She plucked it up and began to review it - she had been in the hospital enough times to know basic Healer jargon. It looked like his injuries had been minimal - just enough to warrant professional attention, but not enough to need more than a half-day stay in the hospital. He was already almost completely healed, and rest would do the rest of the healing.

"Broken noses can be b!tches," she said, hanging the clipboard up. "It's sort of an occupational hazard for Quidditch, so I know the pain. At least you got in here fairly quickly. Try mending that without pain after two days." She shook her head.

He asked her purpose and her sharp green eyes rested on him. She had been trying to make him comfortable, but she should have learned long ago that her small talk was comforting to no one, especially not herself. She inhaled. "Just checking in. I didn't get to thank you for your help, yesterday, and I strongly believe in making everyone feel necessary. Obviously, we hit some bumps in the road," a look of warning "but we were successful. So thank you."

This didn't make sense. Jack Dyllan, leader of the battle was thanking him for his efforts. Despite sending the first spell, regardless of falling dumbly to the ground she was thanking him. It wasn't what he'd expected. Perhaps a yell, a remark about how foolish he was or maybe even a warning to run as the death eaters were after him - the latter was more of a hope. Nobody seemed to care enough to warn him of any danger he could come into.

Not sure how to react Henry simply nodded and looked away from the red head's gaze. Jack was acting normal, which was unusual for women to do. The only person who treated him like a human worth living lately was Scorpius. Scorpius, what was he going to say about this? Congratulations you've broken your nose and will look like a thug for your trial. The trial couldn't come quick enough the sooner it was over the better but for a moment in the battle Henry had a positive thought, he felt necessary, as though his life was worth living. Maybe it was a glitch in his system of depression?

'How is everyone else?' Henry asked. The death eater had wanted to find out from one of the healers but at the same time he didn't know how much they knew, whether they would turn him in. Did they even know how he had gotten his broken nose? 'Did we save Khaat?' We. It feel nice to use the term we for a change, it reminded him of the fact he wasn't entirely alone. Lonely? Yes. Alone? Not as much as Henry thought.

Man, this man was sure full of... something. She did not think it was Death Eater pride, for it was much to silent to be that. Same with blood superiority - everyone knew she was a muggleborn, so if that was it, he would have said something. Jack thought he must just be one of those odd few people who just did not fit very well into their faction, and it had made him a bit awkward when dealing with her. It was a weird position, after all. Everyone knew she had long been allied with the Order. And now the Order, the sworn enemy of the Death Eaters, had worked with them. It made for a complicated working relationship.

At least he had accepted the thank you.

He inquired after everyone else and she said, "All fine. Minor scratches and whatnot. We were lucky." She glanced at the door, not keen on saying anything that might hint at what had happened the night before. Jack had long learned that the media was a dangerous thing, and word of mouth could be even more deadly. She did not mind people knowing a victory had been won, but she had a family to protect now. Her name did not need to be attached.

He asked about Khaat and Jack said, "Recovered. Her children are safe as well. It was a good night." The clock in the room ticked and Jack glanced at it. Her meeting with Michael Tremaine was fast approaching. She looked back at Henry. "Sorry, but I'm a bit behind today. I've gotta jet. I hope you have a good recovery." She grimaced at him and then left.

She wasjust around the corridor when she literally ran into a familair face. Lily Potter was moving quickly, head down, expression set.

"Lily."

"Oh. Jack. Hi."

"Hi. What are you doing here?"

The dark-haired girl tried not to panic. She could not say she had been looking for wolfsbane to steal, now could she? She shuffled her feet and said, "Friend of mine got injured during the last Quidditch game. Had to be moved to Mungo's."

Jack narrowed her eyes on her, not certain she believed the excuse. "What was his name?"

"Her," Lily ventured, stalling as she searched for a name. "Morris."

"I don't recognize it. I follow Hogwarts Quidditch still."

"She's Hufflepuff."

"That's why I don't recognize it."

Lily was getting bolder. "And why are you here?" she said, a challenge on her voice.

Jack stared at her. "Acquaintance of mine got injured yesterday."

"What's her name?"

"His. Yewbeam. Don't know him very well."

Lily had frozen at the name. She recognized it. That was the man from Knockturn that she always managed to find on a bad day. Today was no different. She glanced down the hall, spotting only one door open for visitors. Surely that was where Jack had just come from.

Jack was watching her carefully. She glanced up and smiled, though Jack's quizzical look did not leave. "Lily. Are you alright?" Lily nodded furiously. "If you ever need anything, you can talk to me, you know that right?" Lily nodded again. Jack frowned further but said, "Alright. Be safe. Wish Morris a speedy recovery from me." And Jack hurried on, on to her own business and her own problems.

Lily's wolfsbane mission was completely out of her head now. She chewed her lip as she shifted from foot to foot, uncertain about why she was even at all tempted to check in on Henry. She did not know much of him, after all, but she had seen him in some pretty terrible parts of his life, it seemed. Her curiousity was too much. Her feet moved before she commanded them too, and she approached the door. The little placard outside the door confirmed that he was indeed the patient inside. She stepped in.

He did not look horrible. A few bandages, some brusing, a cut here and there. Maybe on the wrong end of a magical explosion, or a barfight. She glanced around. He was the only patient in the room. And here she was. Well. This was awkward.

She flashed her hand in the air in a jerky wave, her face unchanging. "Hey."

Henry nodded, thankful that everyone was okay although by the sounds of it he seemed one of the worst off. Perhaps it was a good thing but that only made Henry realise how insignificant he was. He was worthless, could barely put up a fight after making the first moves. Perhaps he wasn't cut out for the death eaters after all, maybe it would simply be a better life part time employee, part time drug addict.

He didn't watch Jack leave although he could sense that he was now alone once again. No surprises there now. His parents had disowned him when they had heard of his trial, he had no friends and apparently the death eaters didn't care enough to visit... Jack Dyllan had but she was different, she was, well, Henry didn't know exactly what she was.

Footsteps caught his attention. A brunette was stood by the door, a face he recognised. Lily Potter. She'd tried to rob the store once, he'd been quick and luckily caught on although the next time he seen her was when Theodore Rookwood had knocked him unconscious and escaped with his hostage.

'Hey.' He replied, not really sure why he was talking to her all the women in his life had proven to be a disaster. If they didn't hate him they encouraged his dark influences, sucking the light from his life. Hallie and Steppe had done that.

'How come you're here?' Henry asked, a fine line of protectiveness trickling through the few cracks of his walls.

Henry was much worse about keeping emotion out of his words and off his face than she was. Lily managed to stare blankly at him, revealing very little of her purpose and her feelings towards being here. Mostly because she had no purpose for being here, and therefore could not discern any emotion because of it. She was here simply because it was strange that Henry's name and being kept coming across her path. She simply had to investigate it, because it would bug her if she continued to find herself crossing paths with the addict without ever finding an explanation as to why.

He asked why she was here. Good question, pal, good question. She heaved a shrug. "I was already here. Heard your name. Recognized it." She stared again, standing still in the middle of the very sterile room. He had the room to himself - that was nice. She was feeling a bit odd standing there so she slowly made her way inside, ending up at the foot of the bed. She put her hand on the railing and studied it for a few moments, comfortable in the silence because she really had nothing to say.

She glanced up at him, squinting at his injuries. "What happened to you?"

That figured. She was simply curious, perhaps wondering why he hadn't been sent to Azkaban yet what with him taking drugs during work hours and holding a hostage there. In fact, he was surprised she even stayed in the room and made her way to the edge of his bed.

Lily was interesting. She didn't seem to be against Henry, nor did she show much concern for him as a stony silence filled the room. Henry watched as she placed her hands on the rail, he too examined it out of awkwardness. Then, alas, the awkward silence was broken with an awkward question.

'I-' He couldn't tell her the story, nor did he want to show how stupid he really was to get hit in the face by a stunner. Could he trust the Potter girl enough to tell her anything? Probably not, yet, for once, something inside of him was making him wonder. Lily hadn't gone to the ministry about him keeping Hallie hostage, nor had she blabbed about his drug habits. Maybe she was different?

'Close the door.' Henry told her as he didn't want to be overheard. (OOC: I'll just assume she closed it?).

Once the door was closed and their chances of a being victim to an eavesdropper was minimized Henry propped himself up with the pillows.

'I was in a bit of a fight.' He said looking away from the Gryffindor. Why on earth was he even talking to her? Henry could hardly understand himself at the best of times and now? Now the only explanation was that he was having withdrawal symptoms and the lack of a high was sending him into a state of utter lunacy.

Lily had to stop asking herself questions. They kept running through her head (why was she still here? Why was she sticking around? Why did she have any interest in this strange man’s life?) but not a single question presented itself with any form of answer. The very act on continuing to ask the questions was easily becoming an annoyance to herself as she continued to lack the insight into her own character to understand her actions or her motivations. She just needed to start accepting things for face value.

She was interested, because the circumstances were strange, intriguing, and too reoccurring to be written off as a coincidence.  She did not need to look further into the situation. There was nothing further. With Lily, there was nothing deeper – so she liked to insist.

He asked her to close the door. She hesitated, staring at Henry with her dark, hooded eyes, uncertain as to whether or not this would be safe. He was, after all, an addict who had been involved in some incident involving a well-known Death Eater and a young girl near her age. And here he was, looking as though he had just gotten out of a bar brawl. He was obviously a very shady character and here he was asking her to close the door, leaving her to his mercy…. It was a good thing Lily cared little for her own safety nowadays, or her curiosity would have never been satisfied.

She slowly approached the door, peeking outside. As she did, she casually put her hand on the hilt of her wand, ready for anything. She closed the door and slowly turned to face the man in the hospital bed, her eyes resting sharply on him. She leaned against the door, waiting for him to speak, ready if he tried to pull anything. She was a Potter kid, so of course she was horribly paranoid for her life. He had brought up a fight. She would be lying if she did not admit that it was an interesting hook. “A fight?” she echoed.

How much trouble Henry was already in with the death eaters for his poor duelling skills he couldn't fathom. Although he could guess he'd be in a lot more if he were to continue and tell Lily Potter, a Potter, any more details.

Then again what harm would it do? There would be no doubt some article about the whole incident in the Prophet tomorrow she would find out one way or another and at least this was... at least this way what? There was no reason as to why Henry should be talking to the girl let alone divulge details of what had landed him in St Mungo's.

'One of the Lupins was missing, she'd been taken by James Blood's pack.' Henry began. Wow. It was scary how much information would be given away in a simple sentence. He wanted to stop, take back what he'd said, modify her memory. A part of him was tempted but he was too weak to perform such a charm, besides he'd gave up on anything but defense against the dark arts in his NEWT's he death eater couldn't perform one if he tried.

Sighing he looked away from Lily, his eyes full of confusion and annoyance with himself. His fingernails were scratching the sheets more furiously now. He needed to escape. He needed that high.

'I've said too much.'