the killing moon

"I got hit last night. My brother. Worse than I thought," he said, not caring to throw his brother under the bus. He couldn't imagine a world where Willa and Clyde had a conversation as they had never had before. Beck felt his knees soften and he moved to sit on the bed. If. he didn't do something soon, he would pass out cold and look even more suspicious. "I'm going to continue-" he said her, biting back the pain. Beck passed her a glance and winced. ""How good are your healing skills?"

Willa couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as Beck detailed that his pain was caused by his brother. "Your brother did this?" She gestured to Beck's demeanour which demonstrated nothing but pain. Sure, Willa understood the frustrated that came with having siblings but this seemed intense. Although Willa also had to remember that Beck's brother had to deal with the man in front of her on a more consistent basis, which Willa gathered would be frustrating. "Terrible, but I've never truly tried." Willa shrugged, "I could give it a try."

“Willa!” His voice was urgent, unsteady, and slightly slurred, though the worry behind it was unmistakable. “Are you—are you safe? Are you—” He stopped, swallowing hard, then reached out as if to guide her somewhere safer. His hands shook just slightly, betraying how rattled he was. “You shouldn’t be here, not with this… this—” He waved vaguely at the green lights, his words trailing off as his brain struggled to catch up.

He took a shaky breath, trying to steady himself and keep his panic in check. “Stay close to me, alright? Let’s… let’s get somewhere safe.” Even drunk and exhausted, his eyes stayed on hers, his single thought clear: get her out of the crowd so they could talk, away from all the chaos.

"Are you alright?" Willa's other hand found the Peter's cheek, eyes flickering over his features, evaluating if he was injured. At the suggestion of getting out of there, Willa nodded. Looking back at the crowd, keeping an eye out for Marlene or her sister, wary that they could've been there, lost in the crowd. For Willa, the war seemed to stay somewhat confined to the stories in the Daily Prophet, this was the first time she had been wrapped up in it's chaos. "Have you seen anybody? Your friends? Marlene? Agatha?"

"Perhaps I should mention to her about an inventory check too? We seem to have a few potions unaccounted for."

The hospital was probably the worst place he could be during a war. The sheer number of patients and the horrific injuries he saw made him lose faith that the war would end soon. He knew the Order and Death Eaters were too smart to bring any casualties here, which meant what he was seeing were civilian casualties. A cold river of chills went down his spine every time he thought about it. Each day felt the same; pointless. Nothing he did seemed to matter. Some of the injuries didn't have a countercurse and were beyond his ability as a healer. There was hardly time to call a potion master for some of the cases.

After treating patients to the best of his ability, he found an empty spare room. Throughout the day, he had been ignoring one of his own injuries from a Death Eater mission—a curse that had hit his abdomen. There hadn't been time to properly treat it, as he barely had time for himself these days, and the pain had been eating at him. If he didn't treat it before the end of the day, he knew it would swell and possibly lead to a bigger problem. He raised the edge of his shirt beneath his robe and took out a couple of potions he had pocketed from the hospital's supply—a mix of calming draughts and fast-acting healing potions. It was against St. Mungo's policy to take anything from the cabinet meant for the patients, but Beck thought this counted.

Beck looked up when he heard the door open and hastily put the potions away, lowering his shirt. "It's not what it looks like," he explained poorly. "There's probably a really good explanation for this."

Her shift on the front desk had just finished, but seeking to take advantage of Willa's good form. Her manager had requested for a quick overview of the vacant rooms, primarily to get numbers in order and to correctly identify what rooms to assign to healers and appointment referrals. A bit of an mundane job, but one that got a lot more interesting when with a brief knock and the open of a door, Willa caught Beck Avery in a somewhat suspicious act.

"What it looks like is Beck Avery committing an act of gross misconduct." She retorted, a slight smug glimmer in her eye. Stepping into the room, and closing the door behind her. "This is a lot more grave than a few double bookings," Willa tilted her head, giving Beck a quick once over with her eyes. "Dare I say? Is St. Mungo's golden boy becoming a potion popper?"

The End of Summer Fayre was loud in all the right ways — chatter, laughter, the crackle of fireworks in the distance. Marlene hadn’t expected to enjoy it, not really. She hadn’t expected to feel much of anything, if she was honest. And yet here she was, bottle already in hand, a flicker of lightness in her chest that she hadn’t felt in too long.

Maybe it was the drink, maybe it was the night. Maybe it was just easier to let herself sink into the noise and pretend that tomorrow wasn’t waiting for her. Whatever it was, she decided not to question it — just to hold on to the rare good mood for as long as it would last.

She leaned against a wooden post near one of the food stalls, legs bare under a short dress, her boots scuffed from the cobblestones. A crooked grin tugged at her lips as she tilted the bottle in greeting at whoever drew close. “Tell me a secret and I’ll let you steal a sip. That’s the price of admission.” The witch teased, an open invitation to whatever the day might bring her way.

It had been a while since Willa had went out, it wasn't like her but over the summer she had kept a fairly low profile, opting to hide a particularly bad haircut. But if anybody asked, it was to have a moment of peace. However, it had been nice, spending some time with her mother. Of course, that did mean multiple shopping trips and afternoon teas.

In fact, tonight she donned one of her new outfits. A burgundy midi-dress, with embellished straps and a cream heel, which were proving exceptionally difficult in the cobblestones before she charmed them. Making her way through the crowd, Willa was on the look out for a familiar face. It was only by chance that she caught a glimpse of Marlene amongst the chaos, making her way over. Willa was pleased to see a bottle in her friends hand.

"Only if you promise not to tell," Willa raised her eyebrow, "I got a dreadfully bad haircut this summer. It's took two months to grow out hence this being the highlight of my summer calendar."

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She paused, eyes distant for a moment. “It showed me holding a baby, a little girl.” Pandora wasn’t sure she fully believed what the mirror had revealed. Marriage and family hadn’t seemed like likely chapters in her story, especially given how many found her... peculiar.

Leaning in slightly, she smiled softly. “If you ever want to see what the mirror might show you, or just need someone to hang out with, you know where to find me.”

She realised she really did need to get out more—spending time with friends was something she’d been neglecting lately.

Willa watched as Pandora's eyes went distant, recalling what the mirror had showed her. Her heart panged with emotion as her friend seemed so touched by the image reflected to her, a daughter. Pandora would make a great mother. "You'd make an excellent mother, Dora."

However, at the mention of her own desire, Willa shifted slightly. "It would be interesting to know...but slightly scary too." The woman had never been outwardly ambitious about a career, nor did a family seem in her future. Willa feared that the reflection would show something shallow, fickle, or the possibility of the mirror showing her something unattainable. "I don't have the foggiest idea what I might desire, and what if it shows me something bad?"

"It's my wedding and you're my sister, you're meant to be having a fun time too." The brunette stated with a bright smile, offering her hand to the other witch in hopes to put behind the uncomfortable moment their father had wanted to put her through. "You look really pretty, did you come with anyone to the party?"

Willa accepted Agatha's invitation by taking her older sister's hand. You're my sister, words that Willa didn't ever think she would hear from Agatha's lips and definitely not with such a warmth. "I have been having fun," Willa reassured, omitting the pressure that had been lingering on her shoulders since Agatha first invited her to be bridesmaid. "How are you? The evening has went without a hitch, and you've well gotten hitched, and you're glowing. You're bound to be elated."

"Thank you," Willa smiled at the compliment, "No, just myself. There's somebody, but it's not quite wedding date levels yet." And their dad would not be pleased with her choice.

A soft chuckle left his lips, doing his best to keep the blushing under control. "I'm nervous, alright? You make me nervous, but the good kind." Peter finally admitted, thinking it was best to be honest about it than keep trying so hard to act nonchalant and coming off as worse. He nodded his head in agreement, grateful that she'd picked a booth in the corner so they would be more comfortable to actually talk, a smile forming on his lips as he guided her over to the table. Once they were seated, he called on the barmaid to place their order and waited till the witch was gone to speak again. A small shrug of his shoulders, Peter reached out to take her hand, gently, asking for permission as he did so. "You're pretty, you know that? Too pretty, which is why I'm all nervous around you, and this might make me sound like a complete loser but I truly like you so I'm trying not to screw things up here really hard."

Without a second thought, Willa allowed Peter to take her hand across the table. Glad to be in their own corner of the Three Broomsticks as they spoke. "I like you too," Willa reaffirmed, her tone soft. "Nerves are normal, Merlin even I'm nervous but...don't put so much pressure on yourself, Peter. Let's just enjoy it."

There was enough going on already but the necklace only added more calamity. It took everything in him not to lose his patience with the mindless games the healers were playing. There were too many questions, most were the same, and he should win an award for not wringing their necks, especially Avery as he knew that Nick didn’t like him. Malcolm left the room, the corridor, the ward; putting enough space between him and the room for a few minutes as he could. That’s how he found himself on a different floor. “No, I’m not lost. I know exactly where I am, thank you.”

“Oh?” Willa raised her eyebrow in slight amusement. “Are you visiting somebody in the Dai Llewelyn Dangerous Bites Ward? Or have you been bitten?”

Serra had been in St. Mungos 'for observation' for a few days now and she had grown terribly bored of this room and its decor - or lack thereof, already. It was incredibly bare, white walls, white sheets, white curtains, no decorations except for the many bouquets of flowers Malcolm and others had gotten her. The healers had forcibly removed him from her room saying she needed to rest for at least a few hours, despite the fact that she did not wish to be alone and he had not wanted to leave. Not that she had admitted that she wanted him here out loud, but she figured he already knew. So when her door opened less than an hour after he had stepped out she had assumed it was him, disappointment on her face when she saw that it wasn't, which she quickly schooled into a mask of indifference, looking as put together as one could laying in a hospital bed. She had changed into her own clothes, refusing to wear what everyone else was wearing, her hair smooth and her cheeks flushed. "Can I help you?"

“Serra, hi.” Willa greeted, making her way into the room. “I didn’t know you were here, I was sorted paperwork at the front office and noticed your name.”

As Willa leaned in, Pandora matched her posture, a smile tugging at her lips. “Actually, yes,” she said, lowering her voice just slightly for dramatic effect. “A few days ago, a collection came in from an estate up north. Most of it was junk, dusty tomes, broken heirlooms—but there was one piece…” Her voice trailed off, drawing the moment out. “An enchanted mirror. It doesn’t show your reflection,only your desires. I’m still studying the charmwork, but I have a feeling it’s older than it looks.”

She raised a brow, teasing, “Tempted to come and see what yours would show?”

As Pandora detailed the heirloom that had recently been delivered to the shop, Willa raised her eyebrow in curiosity. Unsure of what would show up for her, of course, the young woman had desires but most of them were short-term and fleeting. What was her lifelong desire? Clearly, only the mirror would be able to answer that. Pandora had an immensely interesting job. "What did yours show?"

"Definitely, I think I might need a little bit of a guide in the right direction."