𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

"i was going to ask you the same thing, admittedly. if you believe there might be any ... conflict, over my former associations, or whatever relationship you may have with my," and his voice cracks a tiny bit, raspy and brittle, "brother - ahem - i would hardly take offense to you passing me onto someone else. i am a curse researcher prone to accidents, i am very nearly a werewolf, and i was once ... associated with a former terrorist." and that's putting it delicately. he doesn't care to beat around the bush when it comes to the matter, because he imagines this is mutually awkward.

》 As quickly as Snape crossed her mind, she pushed him from her thoughts just as quickly.

"i hope you're enjoying it," he tells her, because he's not quite sure what else to tell her, and he's less sure if he's expected to ask about sirius or - or anything. so he doesn't. "least of all because i expect i'll be in your care for the forseeable future. ah, i expect we'll be going through my file?"

st mungo's hospital is a familiar enough site after the past couple of years, but regulus is always grateful that he can arrange appointments beforehand and arrive by floo, bypassing the messy and overloud waiting room. it helps with the anxiety, and as healer dogwood reminds him every single time they meet, he needs to try to reduce said anxiety.

not that regulus is complaining for the advice. healer dogwood did reattach a number of his body parts, and it's hard not to be grateful for such a thing. the grouchy old man is reliable and discrete, and regulus is endlessly appreciative.

which makes it sting more to know he's retiring, and some new healer will be taking over as regulus' primary care provider. he suspects half of this is because he is a black, and can be afforded the extra respect of having appointments with the same healer every time, rather than whoever's available. an advantage of the name, and the wealth attached.

he suspects the other half is because he is a particularly difficult patient, even stable. perpetually sickly, paranoid, horribly and permanently injured, cursed with some degree of lycanthropy. he wouldn't be surprised, indeed, if the younger healers were trying to avoid being the ones to take him on. not everyone appreciates a challenge.

he's tucked in a chair in the examination room, staring at the book in his lap instead of reading it. what's the worst case scenario? a former death eater, if any of them were healers. or one of the marauders, but the career is even more unlikely for them. someone who plain dislikes him - that's far more likely. healer dogwood would scold him for working himself up, and that doesn't make him feel better.

the woman who walks through the door may well be the worst case scenario, because he knows her. older, but not so different he wouldn't recognize her. a m ... muggleborn, and a friend of his brother's. he wonders if it's too late to beg dogwood to stay on just another few months.

》 Taking a moment, Lily leaned against the wall beside the room and flipped open the folder. Her brow furrowed as she read: Black, Regulus A. That wasn't possible. She looked up and glanced around the empty hallway and wondered if someone was messing with her. She thought that she graduated from all these sort of pranks. With a deep breath, she carefully closed the folder and pushed herself off the wall. After counting to three, she grasped the door handle before she stepped her way inside.

james potter doesn’t know who it is that he should thank for this circumstance, but he’s thanking them a hundred times in his head all the same. it’s a security measure, a safety concern. but it is also a chance to spend time with a certain passionate young woman that he has never quite been able to move on from; of course, that statement does imply that he actually tried. “your guard for the night, miss,” he says as she steps out of the building, copper hair flashing in the streetlights. the condemned department store that hosts the entrance to st. mungo’s looks like a threat, set to tumble down before their eyes, but he knows better. “good evening, lily.”

》 Lily smiled. It never failed, when she had a rather late shift, James was there to make sure that she had gotten home safely. She knew very well that she could easily apparated but this... this was far better. She brushed her hair out of her eyes as she looked up her personal knight, "I certainly hope your day was far better than mine."