Thistle and Stone [Chaennie]

Chapter 6

FEVER

The past two days had been, safe to say, the absolute worst. Jennie watched the Healer with resigned eyes as she murmured a healing spell over Jennie's outstretched wrist. The Healer clucked and sighed as she gently poked at the swollen wrist with her wand, mending the fractured bones back together slowly. The purple scar that was etched across her forearm settled as the swelling dissipated, the poorly carved letters fading to their usual silver colour against her skin. She was actively avoiding Roseanne's stare at this point, waiting for the Healer to leave. She imagined that Roseanne could feel remnants of her pain working up her wrist. The Healer had given the pair of them an odd look when she found them waiting in the room together, undoubtedly confused as to why an Unspeakable had accompanied Jennie to St. Mungo's. While Jennie was easily recognizable in the Wizarding World, she tried to keep a relatively low profile. The only real public appearances she did anymore were for her book launches and an interview here or there after one of her books was released. Though Jungkook still had to dodge the prying press, her and Chanyeol had largely been left to their own devices the past few years. Nonetheless, the Healer's stare set Jennie on edge. The last thing they needed was their situation getting out. As an excuse, Roseanne had mentioned something about being on official Ministry business and the Healer stopped glancing between the two of them, knowing better than to start asking questions. When she finally left, after a long discussion of how Jennie was to take things easy and let her body heal, Jennie let go of the breath she was inadvertently holding onto.

"Kim," Roseanne started, discomfort evident in her voice. "I never would have left you alone with Suzy if I knew...Croaker wouldn't have put her on the case if he suspected...I'm sorry. Our situation is traumatic enough without this added incident."

Jennie responded with a soft snort at Roseanne's choice of words and her sudden professionalism. The shock of what happened had worn off and she felt cagey, anger creeping back into her demeanour. Still tied to Park, now with a shoddy wrist thanks to bloody Bae, and caught fielding prying questions from a Healer. And she felt, with a creeping suspicion, that today's events would snake their way into her nightmares, adding to the reel of scenes that played on a merciless loop while she slept. Lestrange's breath against her cheek, Hagrid cradling Jungkook's still form against the dark backdrop of the forest, Fred's broken body against stone, her parents staring at her without recognition, their daughter a forever stranger to them. And now, the feel of Suzy's grip against her wrist, the clash of her teeth against her mouth. Jennie tried to quell the wave of fear that threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted, more desperately than anything, to curl up on her favourite chair with a comforting read and a steaming mug of tea.

"Kim," Roseanne tried again, "I think we'd benefit from maybe discussing what just happened—"

"No," Jennie cut in. "Not today." She pushed the swelling fear and anger firmly back down, knowing she'd do her best to forget about today and avoid Roseanne's questions. It was bad enough Jungkook would hear about this, she didn't want to have to relive the incident.

"Alright," Roseanne conceded, pressing her lips firmly together and waiting for Jennie to continue.

"I don't think we should go back to Jungkook and Taehyung's, at least not tonight." Jennie stared down at her lap, noting the specks of blood that had absorbed into the fabric of her jeans. "Jungkook will have told Taehyung by now, and I don't think I could handle his concern at this point. Can we...Merlin, do you live nearby?" She glanced up, suddenly aware she had no clue where Roseanne might live.

"In Hampstead," Roseanne filled in. "Are you sure you don't want to go back to yours?"

The idea of sitting in her warm living room with Roseanne after today seemed foreign. She wanted to be alone in her home, not awkwardly enduring the presence of Roseanne. An image of muddy boots on her rug confirmed it for her.