@ellegreengrass
back home, mundungus had been involved in some pretty rough fights. over everything, really. girls, drugs, cigarettes, something said offhandedly about someone’s mother. he’d been punched and kicked and had tasted metallic blood against his tongue, but the guys were no match for the pure, unadulterated FURY that was amycus carrow. his knuckles had collided hard and fast with mundungus’ right eye, giving him a black eye and a bloody nose, as well as a defining bruise down his spine from where he’d plastered himself back against the wall. he’d made his way, painfully, down to the greenhouses, knowing it wouldn’t be particularly wise to go to the health center about one of the carrow twins. or any slytherin related violence, for that matter.
soft orbs of light glanced across a hollow expanse of land, covered in the shadowy night, lit up the mountains his back created as he hunched over the back of a chair, sitting backwards so as not to disturb his injuries. he held an icepack to his face, a bit of dittany ( as much as he could apply to his own spine ) air drying on his back, catcher in the rye levitating before him, and his free hand holding a cigarette to his lips. he was pretty much waiting the injuries out until he could get a hold of rosemary or someone who was a talented enough healer that didn’t ask too many questions, when he heard the distinct creaking of the door and soft footsteps.
          “greenhouses are closed,” he said,           though his voice was lacking, and smoke           poured from his lips. it was then that he           turned his head slightly to see her standing           there. “elle,” he said, and he couldn’t figure           out why it sounded so breathless.
