Rodolphus & Open(ish) - Limited to anyone that won’t piss him off by showing up at the hospital St. Mungo’s private room, 21 March 1986 Trigger warning: hospital setting and referencing blood-replenishing potions
The hospital was one of the last places Rodolphus wanted to be. In truth, he had been ready to leave the moment he came to. Not his finest moment since it involved a mediwix immediately hovering over him and rushed words of needing to remain in bed. The evening before was a blur that involved distinctly remembering Andromeda screaming and little else. Several blood-replenishing potions and trying to wave off healing salves later, and he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around what happened. A werewolf attack of all things. The stubborn part of him had requested to go home just to be told they needed to make sure his wounds weren’t infected. Another twenty four hours at least for observation and his not being thrilled in the slightest since he wasn’t about to risk having the house elf get him things from home since that came with the risk of its fully alerting the family on things. Not bitten, just needing to accept permanent scarring along his face, neck, and chest. There had been minimal interest in looking at his reflection after the last round of healing salves and he intended to keep that streak until it turned into getting home. A knock at the door left him sitting upright, with a mask of disinterest immediately following suit.
“If you don’t have a book, I’m not interested in having company,” He muttered without bothering to look up. “Would appreciate knowing if the paper mentioned me by name, though."
