Day 14: Picture prompt. Teen rating simply for swearing.
@kingdonmicrofic
AO3 link:
This was the dumbest idea I had I am still laughing.
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Frank had gotten used to people staring at him. The price to be paid for his stupid decisions. But that was mostly contained to the Pitt. Maybe it was just paranoia. Frank adjusted his backpack and headed in towards work. Doing his best to ignore the hairs standing up on the back of his neck.
He nodded at a few familiar faces leaving the hospital. Shen’s eyebrows even shooting up to his hairline. ‘Have a good day... McDreamy’ Laughter in his voice.
The fuck was that about?
Three of the med students stood nearby. Frank could not remember their names. He was getting old. But they were discussing something animatedly. The least annoying one shushing the other two as he approached.
‘Hi Dr Langdon!’ Chirpy. Too chirpy. He was not imagining the stares and hushed whispers. It was confirmed as he stepped inside. Dana and Abbot leaning against the nurses station: chuckling at a brochure.
Ah yes the new PTMC advertisements had gone live.
Annoying group shots, some solo shots. Maybe Gloria had used one of the shots of Robby looking like he was being tortured as his photo was taken. He was hardly a PR man. Princess wolf whistled and threw across something in Tagalog.
Okaaaaaaaay this was getting weird.
Dana glanced up and her face stretched into an evil smile. Frank gripped his bag strap, gulping as he walked over to them.
‘Welcome Superstar.’ Abbot smirked.
Frank had had enough. He lifted his hands up in exasperation ‘What’s going on?’ Abbot snatched back the brochure teasingly before passing it over.
Frank frowned as he examined the glossy pamphlet. Really, not like they needed more staff or security or wings of the hospital reopened. But sure a fancy leaflet would fix everything. Wow, the camera did not hide any of Robby’s stress. Yikes. He didn’t see what all the hubbub was about.
Oh.
One of the larger images happened to be of him. Too large really. Cropped image of him talking to a patient he thought. Laughing with them. Okay he photographed well. But Shen was also on the same page, live in action. Much more impressive.
‘Back page kid.’ Dana slid in next to him, winking at Abbot who was laughing. Frank knew that all knowing look on Dana’s face all too well. Fond, slightly concerned and ready to laugh at him. He made a show of turning to the back page.
PTMC: Adorable care, unforgettable experience.
Who approved that particular catch phrase? Idiotic.
The image took a moment to sink in. It took up half the page. Him and Mel. Mel grinning brilliantly up at him. And he looking her at like a complete sap. Showing off by running backwards.
Abbot coughed. ‘Be glad the divorce was settled last year.’ Frank quirked an eyebrow at him. ‘Could not be more obvious. Billboards with those heart eyes of yours.’ Abbot knocked him on the shoulder before disappearing.
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Was a bit odd, normally the door was broken down by the tinies.
This time, her sleepy eyes spotted… … …
A tall someone she never saw before in her life. She jumped from the bed to have a bit of a blockade between them: “NJALL?!”
Because he sleeps in front of the door. And should be there. And there should not be a stranger suddenly in her bedroom. Because Njall is there.
“…ah … hn… ya?” a gravelly voice said, sounding utterly calm. Questioning. A bit confused.
She frowned at the wall in front of her, her forehead hurt from the frown. Until she turned to glimpse over the edge of the bed.
Just to see the very tall stranger standing at the door. Sporting ears, apparently. And a tail. And hair.
Like, not-normal ears. He had dog ears. Possibly wolf-ears, given the circumstances. And very shaggy hair. And an actual, hairy wolf-tail. Beard, too.
He also wore a shirt that apparently itched terribly, since he scratched every few seconds.
Same with the pants. All black, like his hair. And two brown, somewhat worried-looking eyes.
He just… stood and waited there. And scratched sometimes.
“… … … Njall, is that you?” She was still frowning.
“… … ya?” It sounded like he was not used to speaking.
Which, of course, would be true if this was actually Njall.
She ran her hand through her hair: “… whose idea was it that you just come in here like that”
“… Maz’n,” he answered, now with a slight frown.
It… it probably was fine, then. She got up and sighed: “Go away from the door and let me look out”
He did as he was told, bare feet tapping on the floor.
The floor was perfectly fine. No scratches, no signs of fights that hadn’t been there the last day, no bloody Njall. Neither a sleeping one.
With a sigh, she returned to the inside of the room and locked the door: “Okay. So. What’s the matter?” She sat down on the bed and pat the place next to her.
Njall – he moved kind of like him, only… more insecure – tapped over and sat down: “You… are good with…” He gestured to himself.
She tilted her head: “I am perfectly fine with you in your wolf-form, Njall,” she proceeded to lean against him and scratch him favourite spot behind his left ear.
As usual, his leg twitched slightly upwards. Another point in the it-is-Njall-pile.
But soon enough, he calmed down enough to catch her hand in his own (very carefully). And looked at her: “… for the… ah… the cubs”
One of his ears drooped down, a little unsure, there.
Meanwhile, the sun was barely glimpsing over the horizon.
Dear Sam,
I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be talking to you about. I mean, I know I need to get things off my chest, but I don’t know where to start. Things are really… emotionally trying around here. I feel like everyone’s nerves are on edge.
It’s just this whole clone thing. It’s freaking me out. At first I didn’t think it was too bad because it was just Harry. But now?
Now there are “students" dropping like flies, aurors flooding the castle, and I don’t know who to trust.
Who is a real person?
Who is a clone?
I can’t tell the difference. I mean, I fucking made out with a clone, and shared secrets with him, and baked him a bloody pie. And it was a clone the whole time. I fell in love with a snake dressed in dark magic.
Seriously, how the FUCK does that HAPPEN?
Oops! I’m sorry diary Sam. I pressed my quill down really hard and ripped the page. I’m really sorry!
How about I move on to a less distressing topic?
I should be able to fully shift into an osprey soon.
I’ve been working with McGonagal for MONTHS on becoming an animagus. We’ve been spending hours upon hours figuring out the transfiguration equations for me shifting in all different scenarios; with clothes, without clothes, full or empty stomach, everything. It’s laborious work just to get the equations right. And there’s like 80 different ones. And that’s just the start of the process. I also have to shift individual parts of my body, one at a time. I have to plan out what parts of me go where in the shift, actively thinking of how my internal organs have to rearrange themselves, which involves a lot of anatomy of both humans and osprey. And I have had every single inch of my body weighed and measured.
By McGonagal.
Every. Inch.
I was naked in front of a bloody teacher. I mean, there were a bunch of permission slips that I had my mom fill out at the beginning of the year, so it wasn’t illegal. But still. Gross.
And what’s even grosser is the amount if paperwork. I have literally signed two stacks of parchment as tall as I am, and then some. I have to read full on manuals about “abuse of power" and shite like that. It’s absurd.
But it’s all going to pay off soon. I’ve got a bunch of different practice shifts, then a full demonstration shift in front of the head of the Improper Use Of Magic Department of the Ministry. I also need to discover my distinguishing Mark so I can put it on my registration forms. And then wait 2-3 business weeks for approval.
But after all that, I am free to shift into an osprey as often as I want.
And that is a dream come true.
