Thicker than Water (Marauders Era) PART II

30 June, 1997 - Battlefield (II)

Lavinia returned home that day with a heavy heart and a sinking sort of sensation in her stomach that she couldn't entirely explain. She did her best to brush it aside with the knowledge that at least now she had one more spell in her healing arsenal, but that bright side was a weak one and she knew it.

Perhaps it was foolish of her, because of course, she had known for quite some time now that outright war was coming, but somehow learning the countercurse to Severus's spell had made it all the more real. There would be battles again. There would be casualties and lives in her hands and mere seconds to make decisions. Which was already the case in the ward, of course, but it was different when she was in the field. Different when supplies were limited and she was the only healer around. Different when they were faces she knew.

And just like last time, there would indeed be familiar faces on both sides. Severus would be amongst the ranks of the Death Eaters, in all likelihood. And William, however little he seemed to be the boy she remembered. And she... she would see him again. And she knew, somewhere deep down that she didn't particularly want to think about, that seeing him, looking into his face... well. It would be like losing him all over again. And in case that wasn't enough, there would be others too: faces with names she knew from school but who held less sway in her heart after all these years. People like Mulciber and Rowle. People like Thomas Avery, who she hadn't spoken to or cared about in years but who she knew had a wife and children at home and it didn't matter that she hadn't cared about Eloise in years either. The knowledge that someone would hurt, someone would grieve... it made it worse. So much worse.

Which in all likelihood was why Lavinia spent that day with a weight hanging over her that she couldn't seem to shake. And it stayed there the next day. And the next. And the next.

And when she called Ethan the following week, despite her best efforts, her voice seemed to give enough away about her state of mind for there was silence on the other end after her greeting, followed eventually by: "It's not going well, is it?"

And the honest answer was no. And yes. Because truthfully, it wasn't going any worse than it had been for the past several months. But that also wasn't particularly good. So Lavinia had just sighed and told him she was glad he at least was safe. Because she was. Especially since no one else seemed to be. Well. Miriam and Kama were and that too was a blessing, even if she missed them all terribly.

And miss them she did. The loneliness that night, after speaking to Ethan, was worse. Far worse. Because she missed her friends. She missed the times they'd had back when the world was simpler. She missed life as she had known it for those few precious years between the wars when she had been happy. When life had been simple and... and good. When she had almost been content.

And now Lavinia felt, for reasons she couldn't entirely pinpoint, that they were standing on a precipice again. That something was going to happen and happen soon. Because it had been almost a full year since the out in the open conflict between the Order and the Death Eaters and it seemed they were long overdue for another one.

Which was perhaps why, when a silvery cat materialized in Lavinia's kitchen late one night and spoke in the clipped, precise tones of Minerva McGonagall, requesting her immediate presence at Hogwarts, Lavinia felt nothing but a sinking resignation. She could think of few reasons why it would be McGonagall and not Dumbledore summoning her, and by patronus no less. Which led her to a simple and painful conclusion: something was happening. Something bad. And they needed a healer.

So, wand in hand and with a hollow sensation in her chest that she decided she didn't have time to think about, Lavinia threw a handful of floo powder into her fireplace and stepped into the flames.

She stumbled out onto the carpet in McGonagall's office and straightened, dusting herself off and looking for clues as to where, exactly, she was supposed to go. She found nothing whatsoever in the neat stacks of paper around the office nor from the silent still air in this part of the castle and had just resigned herself to wandering when she heard footsteps and panting coming down the hall. Gripping her wand tight, just in case, Lavinia waited, tense and silent, bracing herself.