22 August 1894 — St. Mungo's
Raphael Malfoy

She had been so close. So close to the end of this case to have gone without injury. When the assignment came, it was hard to believe that there was a genuine sinkhole in the middle of Padmore Park. Sure enough, when she and the rest of the team arrived, it was enormous. The massive pit spanned from one end of the park to practically the end. The smell of dirt was thick in the air, as were the sounds of cries for help. The healers had already gotten there but it was easy to see that they were going to be overwhelmed sooner rather than later.

In the end, it had taken three days to finish the rescue efforts. It was mostly done by the auror office and Hogsmeade Constabulary but nonetheless, Rowan had hardly gotten any sleep between the days; it was a grueling shift, with her only taking a nap or so between days to replenish a little of her energy. A lot of it was spent going back and forth between the office and Padmore Park to assess the damage. By the end, her limbs were sore, her feet ached, and all she wanted was a hot bath. Of course, when she was getting ready to leave is when it happened.

One wrong step and Rowan had suddenly seen the entire world rise. It was an odd sensation. There was a swooping feeling in her stomach and she realized that the patch of dirt she’d been standing on had given out. Of course by then it was too late. She’d scrabbled at the dirt but it was no use. She hit the ground and let out a shriek of pain. All she’d heard were shouts above her, the obvious sound of people scrambling to go fetch someone. One of the aurors had stayed back to assess the situation and had called over Mabel Brighton whom Rowan been at school with. Mabel saw her off to the hospital once they’d gotten her out which is how Rowan had ended up in a hospital bed with cuts and bruises littered over her legs and arms.

She’d been told the damage wasn’t too severe, but that she’d have to stay overnight for monitoring while the potion did its work to mend her broken bones. So now, she was bored. So severely bored. Her family had already left for the day and Rowan already had finished her book, which meant staring at the cieling was the next best option. Before she knew it however, she had drifted off into a light sleep, her head lolling to the side.

She wasn't sure what made her open her eyes. Perhaps it was the feeling that she wasn't alone anymore, but as she blinked rapidly to adjust for the dusky tone the setting sun had thrown into the ward, her heart leapt in her chest as she realized who was sitting next to her bed. Not bothering to sit up, she smiled lazily up at him. “You heard what happened?”

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The news of the sinkhole in Hogsmeade had hardly fazed him when he first heard about it. He’d endured his own share of magical disasters, and it was not that uncommon for smaller scale ones to happen in areas with a large population of witches and wizards. And even if it had been major, Raphael didn’t have the mental bandwidth the worry about anything that did not impact him directly. Not right now, not tomorrow, possibly not for the next year at this rate.

He was having an issue recruiting for the Arrow—or rather, the coach was, but it was always his problem in the end. His money, his dues to the league, him who had to answer when there were issues. Raphael had only recently returned to being an active participant in meetings, but it seemed each and every one triggered a headache and a hollow ache in his cursed arm.

The quidditch match had concluded with an invitation to join one of the other sponsors at the club, and, although he’d rather had been at home, Raphael had no desire to field anymore questions about the shift in his demeanor since he’d returned to England. Hence how he found himself at the gentleman’s club, sitting next to Faris Medley, a short but oddly intense man who happened to be just as detached from the conversation around him as he was. However, unlike Raphael (who threw in an occasional hmmm and of course whenever he was prompted), Medley had received not one, but four messages over a single cigar.

One bored question about Medley’s letters and one long explanation about the state of Padmore Park—including a rattled-off list of names of injured Ministry employees—later, Raphael found himself seated beside Yaxley’s hospital bed. It would have been easier to lie about his reason for visiting, had they looked anything alike. In the end he lied about being on business for his Ministry-employed father, and that was that.

“Only by chance,” he said quietly, scooting his seat forward to be closer to the edge of her bed. He didn’t reach out for her, his nerves still high at the possibility of being caught where he shouldn’t have been. It wasn’t consequences he feared, but the questions: how did he know her? What did he want? What ‘business’ what he running? His mind was too scrambled to lie convincingly. “What happened” he asked, examining the parts of her that were visible for any noticeable injuries.

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set by lady <3

“By chance,” Rowan echoed with a soft laugh. She kept her head on the pillow but turned slightly onto her side to face him better. “So that means you weren’t watching out for my every move, then?” She murmured softly, only loud enough for him to hear. Even though she was teasing him, she was still slightly surprised at this realization. That after all this time, after everything they’d been through together, he hadn’t somehow placed a tail on her in the form of an animagus private investigator who was known for being discreet.

He’d leaned forward to be nearer to her, and Rowan wanted to reach out to grasp his hand; touch him in some way to let him know she was alright. But even that was a risk; she found herself wishing they were back at their own place, in the shack in the woods. The echoes of their last rendez-vous still stayed with her, keeping her company as she slept from time to time. Tempted to stay awake for this encounter though (now that she’d managed to fall asleep, it was harder to stay awake, even with Malfoy here), Rowan shifted in bed, leaning on her side to pull herself up into a sitting position now. “Nothing too out of the ordinary,” She recalled in a low voice. “I took a wrong step on some ground that hadn’t been secured and it collapsed from right under me.”

She winced at the memory; didn’t want him to know exactly how far she’d fallen, and skipped over that detail. “I’m doing alright, they just want to keep me here under supervision until I’m fit as a fiddle again.”

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