Sorcerer's Apprentice

Spencer listened intently and sat in the wheelchair. He was out of it, but he was listening. He was being wheeled through the hallways, the pain being the only thing keeping him alert. He could faintly make out Aimee's voice but was more concentrating on the Healers. He was explaining him the mistake he could do. He seemed to know his stuff, maybe he should talk to him about this excavation in potions of his.

A few broken bones, nothing really new. He had broken bones before, but nothing like this. And he'd have to stay in the hospitol for a while. Well that was great, he needed his little cottage cleaned up. Otherwise who knows what that potion might do to it. He was breathing heavily now and was a little upset. He was listening and caught his final words, "potions master". He nodded, which in his condition was more or less him moving his head slightly up.

Swallowing, Aimee remained silent. She reached for the pendant hanging from her necklace and she twisted it between her thumb and forefinger. How had Spencer gone from only slightly weary to completely ....well, he more or less collapsed into the wheelchair so that couldn’t have been a good omen? Aimee bounced a little on the balls of her feet and nibbled on her bottom lip. What could she do to help? Nothing by the looks of things and that enraged her. She wanted so desperately to do something to help and knowing she couldn’t was just making her worry more. Aimee exhaled shakily and dropped the pendant. Instantly she began to wring her hands together and her bottom lip was being cut up by her teeth that were eating into it.

“Are you sure he’s going to be okay?” Aimee burst, tears welling up in her eyes. “H-he can’t die! I know it’s only broken bones but people can die from that can’t they if they’re not treated soon enough? W-well Spencer can’t okay? I...uhh...” Aimee looked down at the tiled floor and felt her cheeks flush crimson again. Her head was beginning to ache now, too much stress at one point in time and she hated that on top of everything else. She reached up with her right hand and rubbed the back of her neck. All of this stress and Audrey II was sat on the table in Spencer’s potion room probably traumatised by all of the goop on the walls. But Aimee didn’t care about her goddamn plant now! It wasn’t important! She sniffled a little and pulled her jumper sleeves down over her hands, much like a child would do when nervous or cold.

"He's going to be fine," Robert said very gently. "I'm afraid that's my doing. I'm going to set his bones so that he isn't in so much pain. He's going to feel a lot better once that 's done and once he has some rest. I'm keeping him here so I can watch him to be sure he's alright, and because with all those broken bones, he is going to need some help for a bit. This will give him a day or two to get things arranged at home until he mends. But, I have no objection if you stay close to him while he's here, so long as you both follow the rules. This is going to take me about an hour. Why don't you go get a few things for him, if you can, and then come find him on the Trauma wing? I promise he'll be okay while you're gone. He's alright."

Once Spencer was asleep, Robert drew his wand and re-aligned the broken bones. He wanted the re-alignments to be pristinely perfect. That was one thing he was always very finicky about. He made sure the bones were completely immobile to keep them from shifting. Then he immobilized the fractures. He ordered assistants to clean him up and to admit him and move him upstairs to a room in the trauma wing.

As soon as Spencer was knocked out he was at ease. His dream was fuzzy, but he enjoyed it. He was sitting at a table in some restaraunt waiting for someone. When this someone arrived whoever it was, they were fuzzy and impossible to make out their face. Everyone else was clear but this one person. But things seemed to continue on as usual, his dream self not really paying attention to the face being fuzzy. He was watching from many differenty views really, but never from himself. If that made any sense, the voice was familiar but he couldn't remember where it came from.

As much as Aimee wanted to listen, she couldn’t. Her mind was whirling. She’d seen Spencer hurt before when he got into scuffles with people that ended up winning said scuffle and she’d been more relaxed then than she was now. So what had changed? Well, the fact that she’d walked in on her friend blowing himself into a wall was a bit of a traumatic event so maybe she just needed a calming draught. She heard the tail end of what Robert was saying and nodded before Apparating back to Spencer’s house.

The first thing Aimee did was hunt out a vase. She filled it with water from the tap and put the lilies in it so they had a drink after being so rudely taken from their home. She then went in search for some things that Spencer would probably need. The Fairy Tale book that he loved so much was the first thing that came to her hands and a few other personal items went into a bag with the book. She then walked into what she decided was best to call ‘the bomb site’ and rescued Audrey II from inside. She put the lilies on the coffee table and then Apparated back to the Hospital.

She’d never moved so fast in her life and she’d managed to get to the Trauma ward without tripping and sending everything flying. It was a minor success but Aimee didn’t care. She found Spencer’s room quickly and slowed down considerably when she arrived. There was only so much successful running a klutz could do. She frowned a little and sat down in the chair next to his bed. She put the bag down on the floor and cupped her hands around Audrey II’s pot. The Flytrap seemed happy enough and she sort of wished she felt the same but unfortunately that wasn’t the case.

Spencer had awoken about a half hour after Aimee had gotten his stuff. He slowly turned his head to face her, he was still laying down. He felt stiff, he could move but only slightly. He noticed Aimee had brought his big book of old Fairy Tales. He smiled softly, Aimee wasn't looking at him currently. He braced himself for when she turned around from looking out the window and seeing him awake. But what he really wanted was his big book of Fairy Tales. There was a story behind that book, a story that would be told....later. He might even tell the members around here.

He sighed heavily, letting her know he was awake. His ribs hurt, but it was more a slight discomfort than a pain. "Is it nice out?" he asked her, staring at her back. She seemed deep in thought, maybe she wouldn't hear him. Oh well, maybe he could catch a few more z's and then surprise her. Or maybe he'd just wait until she turned around and and she freaked out. But if anything she'd be angry, she was like his mother at times. Only, more strict really...and alot less old and alot more pretty and...wait what about his cottage? What about his potion.

What about the healer who seemed to have fixed him up. He remembered what he had said, he wanted to talk to him. He hadn't caught his name, but was sure it'd be on the report he had written for him. He wanted to get some information and tips from a real potions master. That'd help him a great deal, and maybe he knew somebody important. Someone else he could speak with about potions. Or maybe even his new found love for Alchemy. He needed help, and he needed luck thank god he had Aimee and her plants.

Humming a familiar song under her breath, Aimee’s eyes drifted to the window. They focused on the Muggle Street below and she was soon able to mute out the world around her, allowing the song to spread through her mind. She let her eyelids close over her bright blue irises and she exhaled slowly. This was a calming mechanism, she was sure of it but it wasn’t as effective as she hoped it would have been. Sighing, Aimee placed the Venus flytrap between her knees and she closed her legs around the pot so it didn’t fall to the floor. She ran her hands through her hair and tugged on the roots of her ruby red locks. What was she going to do with Spencer? He couldn’t keep himself safe if he was in a protective bubble so how he stayed upright was a real wonder.

Then she heard a voice, his voice; Spencer’s voice. Aimee’s head turned and she jumped out of her skin when she saw he was awake. Of course, she couldn’t do things figuratively the sill klutz. She jumped and managed to catch the chair leg with her foot, sending it over and her with it. Once again and for the second time that day Aimee found herself on the floor of St. Mungo’s. Her head already hurt, she didn’t need to be admitted as well. Thankfully Audrey II had remained relatively unscathed and Aimee decided that it was better to ignore the sharp impact pains working their way across her back and she jumped back up onto her feet.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he’d not long had his bones set then Aimee would have definitely been hugging him. She felt like reprimanding him but this was Spencer. He made mistakes and it was always her there to pick up the pieces. That was her role in the charade that happened more often than not. Aimee settled though with placing a kiss on Spencer’s forehead. She brushed his hair back a little and played absentmindedly with a few strands.”It’s beautiful.” She murmured quietly. A shaky sigh escaped her lips and she tugged uncomfortably on her own hair with her other hand. “I was so worried about you.” She admitted to him, looking down at the tiles that she was quickly becoming acquainted with. “I-I mean I know it was only broken bones and such but I really though....I dunno. Maybe I’m just being silly.” She sniffled a little and stopped playing with his hair. “Sorry. I just...I don’t know what I’d do without you, Spencer. You’re my best friend – my only friend – and if you disappeared then I’d probably get eaten by my own plants.” She smiled despite herself and quickly wiped away the tears that were beginning to form.

Spencer grinned, yes she had fallen down and most likely hurt herself in the process but they were all too used to this stuff by now. He chuckled, his lungs discomforting him slightly. He could feel her warm breath on his forehead as she kissed him. It felt good, he was feeling rather cold. He blushed though, as often as he did. He was embarrassed too often for his liking, but nothing was going to change that. He was born clumzy, and the beatings never helped him at all. The bullies pretty much forced him to be double jointed...yeah not a pretty story really. He didn't want to relive it.

"Thanks," he said softly when she kissed him on his forehead. "I guess you missed me," he said chuckling. He knew he would have trouble living if he didn't have her. He'd probably die alone in his house from a cauldron explosion, or from reading days straight. He shook his head slightly to try and get a few hairs out of his eyes. "I know Aims, I probably couldn't live without you either." he said sweetly. When she started crying he movee his hand to hers t He managed to sit up, "It's alright, I promised I won't blow myself up again," he told her chuckling a little bit.

He breathed deeply and felt the real damage he had done to himself. His ribs hurt when he took deep breaths. He'd hate to know what happened when he coughed or even yawned. And what about sneezing? Oh boy he was going to be having a fun time waiting for these wounds to heal fully. "Just, don't leave me alright. I need to stay close to a friend," he told her. He looked up at her, she really was his best friend.

This wasn’t a trip to St. Mungo’s Aimee thought she’d ever have to make. Sure Spencer had gotten hurt in the past but never to the extent to where he needed to be hospitalised. She panicked whenever he was hurt and worried over him like a mother hen but this was taking it a wee bit too far and she didn’t know whether to throttle him or squeeze the life out of him in a hug. He was going to be alright though, that was clear. He was awake and looked a little stiff but he’d be alright, she was sure of it. Well, for the most part. Anything could happen in the space of a few hours but Aimee wasn’t going to be pessimistic. There was so much that needed to be said that couldn’t possibly be said on a death bed.

Her sniffling wasn’t going to make anything better though. She had to be brave. No, that would be a waste of time. Aimee was brave to a degree, she was still a Gryffindor, but when it came to Spencer she couldn’t really knit two thoughts together without freaking out. Why did he have to get himself blown into a wall? They could have been having lunch. This wasn’t a place Aimee wanted to be and neither did Spencer probably. “Yeah,” She laughed softly and smiled despite her tears. “You better not. I think you just like to see me go spare.” She swallowed and pulled the chair back over so she could sit down. Once seated she met Spencer’s gaze and gripped his hand between her two. “I’m not going anywhere,” She promised. “I’ll be here for as long as you want me.”

Hannah Dunne straightened her khaki twill blazer and tried to brush the naturally curly shoulder length blonde hair off her face. She straightened her emerald green reading glasses on her face. They magnified the print on the St. Mungo's correspondence so that her Irish green eyes could see the print more clearly. Robert had given her a stack of letters to respond to. She had gotten used to being half healer, half administrative assistant for Khaat and Robert. She had a desk on the 5th floor across the hall from Khaat' and Robert's offices, and she never quite knew what the Lupins would need her to do next.

She preferred Robert's tea and his constantly calm mannerisms to the wild pace that Khaat held, but she had learned to respect them both for their different strengths. Khaat brought energy, creativity, and commitment to the hospital. Robert brought experience, stability, and command. As he had passed her desk, he had asked her to please check on a young patient down in the trauma ward in a couple of hours and be sure that he had not awakened in an overabundance of pain after having some broken bones set. An amateur potions accident, he'd said. Well, that wasn't the first of those Hannah had ever seen.

Hannah had gotten used to being mistaken as being flighty because of the bright green glasses and the hair that sometimes looked like she'd stuck her finger in a muggle electrical socket, but she actually was very efficient. Robert and Khaat had rescued her from eternal filing duty and had found her to be indispensible to them as their assistant, and when she wasn't needed at her desk, they often had her filling in on the floors.

Hannah rose from her desk, double checked the room number on the memo Robert had given her and went downstairs. She found the young man in his bed, and a young woman there with him. The young woman almost looked worse for wear than the patient, in all honesty. "So--you're Spencer?" she asked. "I'm Mr. Lupin's assistant. He asked me to check on you and see how you were feeling. He wanted me to make sure you were confortable."