Venomous

Laurel

"The Yule Ball?" She leaned back just a small bit, enough so that she could see his face.

"Yes. If you’ll have me, I would very much like you to be my date to the ball." Ominis furrowed his brow, both hands gently placed against her waist, his thumbs running small circles against where her hip bones protruded, sending a small shiver rippling through her. "Unless you've already been asked."

"I actually haven't." Laurel laughed lightly, climbing off of his lap and plopping down on the couch next to him, smoothing the green, tartan fabric of her skirt back down. "I’ve never been to a ball before. Poppy was very confident that I would get asked. Even went so far as to buy me a dress."

She glanced over at him, catching the way his cheeks were now blazing red and his fists were once again balling into the fabric of his trousers. “Yes, your dear friend, Miss Sweeting decided she and I needed to have a talk.” Suddenly, the swift kick the tiny brunette had given to Garreth upon his speaking on the dress she’d been gifted made much more sense. “She was particularly descriptive about exactly what she would do to me if I didn’t make my… intentions clear.”

She laughed a bit, running her fingers through her hair before tucking it behind her ear. “That sounds like Poppy. Does explain a lot about the dress, honestly.” She leaned her shoulder into his, resting her head against him. “It’s emerald green. The color of Slytherin house.”

It was his turn to laugh, his hand fumbling and skittering over her thigh until he found hers, lacing their fingers together. “If I knew what that looked like, I’d tell you it sounds beautiful.” His fingers squeezed around her hand. “Either way, I know you’ll look lovely.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Every muscle in her body ached, bruises forming in places she’d never had them before. She found herself panting, legs splayed out in front of her where she sat, joints aching from where she was holding herself up. One leg was bloodied, a decent sized gash beginning to turn a ghastly shade of maroon, the flesh bent inward from the hit she’d taken from the sentinel’s massive sword. She sighed deeply, prodding the tear in her pants with her blackened fingertips. That was definitely going to hurt in the morning.

Laurel pushed herself into standing, her hands windmilling as she attempted to keep herself upright. She cried out, the searing pain from the wound on her leg shooting up past her knee toward her hip. She had felt more pain than she could recount from open wounds and gashes upon her body, but it had been years since she’d dealt with a broken bone. She was almost certain her leg was broken. Wonderful. If there were any charms she was absolute rubbish at, it was the healing charms, and she’d long since run out of wiggenweld potions. Seemed another visit to Sharp was in order.

He’d been especially vigilant in his watch over her, going so far as blaming Fig’s consistent absence for her injuries. If she thought the former auror’s watch had been airtight before, there was no slipping past him after the scriptorium. She still occasionally got a twinge of pain through her abdomen, especially after major battles. He was, without a doubt, going to notice her limping around the halls. She supposed there was a chance Fig would be able to heal her wounds before they returned to the upper floors of the school.

She turned to face the pensieve protector, her eyes scanning its body for movement. The giant body was as still as stone, collapsed on the floor like a ragdoll, the sword that it had brandished to fight against her lying metres from its hand. Another trial down, and yet there were two more awaiting her, each battle more difficult than she had anticipated. Every step toward the memory was harrowing, the pain throbbing through each area where her skin was torn open. What was likely no more than a minute or two felt like hours before she was finally able to lean on the pensieve, her hands tightly gripping the sides as she lowered her head.

The memory flooded her senses, playing in front of her like she was actually there. She watched each movement, every action with cautious eyes. She felt the same sense of dread that was displayed on the Keepers faces when Isidora pulled the pain from her father's chest, the swirling black and red mass beckoning to her. The pit forming in her stomach threatened to swallow her whole, causing her to feel the urge to purge her system. She spoke at the same time as Professor Rackham, her eyes going wide as she tried to step back from the scene.

"What have you done?"

"I took his pain." The woman before her no longer looked like the concerned, caring woman she had been made out to be up to this point.

Before she could continue processing the scene before her, she was released from the memory, the tingling feeling of desire finally fading. If there was one thing Laurel was not, it was power hungry. She didn't like the way her magic was begging her to take whatever Isidora held. There had to be a way to put an end to it once she was done with Ranrok. She pressed her hand to her sternum as she pushed her way through the exit, stumbling across the floor with a pain-filled scowl plastered on her face.

Fig rushed over to her just as she collapsed against the railing, the pain in her leg overwhelming her. As she finally slid to the ground, eyes watering as she stared up at the ceiling. Another sigh emanated from her, and she dropped her gaze to her fingers as she prodded the fabric of her pants again. A sudden wave of panic flooded her being when her sights fell on the bone that was beginning to stick out from her flesh, catching the darkened tips of her fingers.

When she turned her hands palms up, it became evident that her fingers were in just as bad of condition as her leg, the blisters weeping from under her burns. Fig dropped slowly and carefully to one knee next to her, his hands hovering over the break. She watched him reach for his wand, pointing the tip shakily at the snap of her leg. He muttered a healing spell, only for it to fail, the flesh mending around the broken bone instead. She let out a blood-curdling scream, the agonizing burn of the nerves around the break causing a blinding white light to flash across her vision.

“I’m so sorry, my dear girl. We’re going to have to get you to the medical wing. There’s no other way.” His hand trembled against her upper arm.

“Not Nurse Blainey. Please.” Laurel dropped her head back against the wall. “I need to get to Professor Sharp. He’ll know what to do.”

“I’ll do what I can. Stay right here.” His smile was tight, pursed amongst the wrinkles that had settled in his face with age.

He left her there against the wall, and as she began to fade into sleep, she could hear his voice off near the Keepers’ portraits. Sleep was peaceful, even though she could feel the dull throb of her shin in the darkness that was unconsciousness. There was little to no pain, the sting of the open wounds practically non-existent in the dream-world. The sentinel in her dreams swung time after time, her body rolling effortlessly with each dodge. Until the pain began to increase, the throbbing growing stronger.

Laurel was awoken with a start, screaming as her shin and calf were tightly wrapped. She tried to throw her hands out to stop the pain, only to find that her hands were already bound. She sucked in a hissing breath through her teeth, her eyes flying open, her blurry vision landing on where Sharp had his wand aimed at her leg. The potions professor had one hand secured around her ankle, forcing her leg to stay straight while the glow of his incarcerous charm wound around her limb. When he finally looked to her eyes, the dark brown depths were filled with concern.

“Oh thank Merlin, you’re alright.” The older man sighed with relief, carefully putting her leg back down. “Laurel, there is no possible way I’ll be able to heal this, not with a charm. I’m sorry, poppet.”

“But-”

“I’m going to have to take you to the hospital wing. I don’t trust myself to fix this.” He placed one hand against her cheek, both men hovering over her with pursed lips. “Noreen will be able to help.”

“I’m not afraid of a new scar.” The roll of her eyes was stifled by a pang of pain in her lower leg.

“It’s not a scar I’m worried about, child.” The back of his hand was suddenly placed against her forehead, and his other hand brandishing his wand removed the spell from her hands. “I’m worried the bone will heal incorrectly.”

“Professor, I-”

“Laurel, I will not take no for an answer this time. I used everything I had trying to get you back from death’s door last time, and it left you with horrible scars. I refuse to leave you disabled as I am.” Another cry when he picked her up, one arm bent under her knees, the other gripping her shoulder. “You cannot avoid the hospital wing forever.”

She had to lean her head against his shoulder, the dizziness causing her vision to swim and double. Her small hands curled around the fabric of her own shirt, and she fought desperately to not scream when every movement sent a new wave of pain up through her leg, gritting her teeth so hard that her jaw began to hurt. She’d never been more thankful for the Hogwarts floo system than she was then. A trip that would have been long and exhausting on the man holding her took no more than a few minutes. The hallways blurred into white when Aesop rounded the corner into the medical wing, setting her as gently as possible on one of the beds.

“What in the name of Merlin happened here?” Everything began to refocus, and she blinked several times when the multiple nurses finally merged back into one.

“My daughter’s been badly hurt. Broken leg, she’s lost a bit of blood, alongside a few other minor injuries.” Sharp and Fig were standing at her side, each man twisting his hands around themselves.

“Let me see here then.” Nurse Blainey’s fingers were cold against her skin before they became searing against the break, causing Laurel to cry out one again. “Oh my, this is as bad as when Northcott fell from the rafters in the clock tower. You’re lucky I have something for this, Miss Blake.”

Before she knew it, Nurse Blainey had left and returned, pouring something from a large bottle in a small goblet for her to drink from. It was pressed into her hands, and as she held the cup up to her face and sniffed the liquid inside, her nose crinkled and she turned away from it. The moment she turned back, Sharp had one hand on the back of her head and the other pressed to the bottom of the goblet, prompting her to drink and refusing to remove his hands until it was empty. Laurel was overwhelmed by the sudden urge to vomit, her stomach churning and her throat burning.

“Give it a few minutes to start working.” The matron carried over a tray full of various potions, setting it down on the table at her other side, her hands flitting through them. “We want it to reach the bone before we dose you on anything else. Just a warning, dear, this is going to be horribly painful. Now.” The older woman set aside a few vials before turning to the two men at her side, hands on her hips. “Would anyone like to tell me why every time this girl is in here, she’s injured beyond a normal amount? I’ve been lucky enough to not have seen her in here in a few months.”

“It’s… complicated, Noreen.” Fig fidgeted more, obviously hesitant to share with anyone other than herself and Sharp where she’d been.

“Complicated? Are you daft?” Sharp’s fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. “Eleazar, may I speak with you in the hall?”

She watched silently as the two men hobbled out the door, leaving her alone with the matron. Her leg had begun to burn immensely, and suddenly she was thrown back into the throes of agony. She could feel the bone shift where it had snapped, every second hurting more and more as everything began to reattach itself within the scar tissue that had formed from Fig’s spell. Another scream was ripped from her throat, almost entirely covering up the sounds of the two men shouting at each other in the hall. When she was finally reduced to panting, it was clear that all of the shouting was coming from Sharp, and she surmised he had to be absolutely livid to be screaming at the older man.

Everything went silent for a long moment, her only company being the matron while she was passed potion after potion. She found herself unable to register what the nurse was saying, much less exactly what she was consuming, drinking everything without question. She heard Sharp’s voice pick back up, this time significantly more quiet. Her head turned toward the door in time to see him limp back in alone, exasperation clear on his face. His large hand gripped the back of a chair, pulling it near her bedside and lowering himself into it.

“You are an insanely reckless child.” He ran his hands down his face, resting his elbows against his knees. “Do you have not one. Single. Modicum of self preservation?”

“It’s for the greater good, Sharp.” Laurel braced her hands against the mattress, pushing herself into sitting up straighter with a grunt.

“The greater good? There are other ways to deal with Ranrok.” He fixed her with a stare, his brows low over his eyes. “We’ve almost lost you twice now, Laurel.”

“My life is insignificant if it saves the world from someone like him-”

“Your life is not insignificant!” He was almost shouting again, the volume of his voice increasing each time they went back and forth. “Do you know just how many people care about you?”

“It’s not exactly like I have a family waiting for me to come home.” She scoffed, shouting back at him with just as much venom in her voice. “If I die-”

“You are not a nameless orphan anymore, Laurel!” Sharp’s face was twisted into an expression of rage, the scar running up to his eye contorting with each movement. “You have friends, and professors who care about you! Ominis Gaunt has been in my office worried sick since you told him you were heading into the second trial. Poppy Sweeting, Natsai Onai and Professor Garlick have all been badgering both Noreen and Matilda looking for you. Even Garreth Weasley has been on his best behavior in class keeping an eye out for you. Are you really willing to put each and every one of them through the heartache of losing you?”

Tears pricked at the edges of her vision. “Sharp-”

“Just because you are the sole wielder of this magic,” His tone lowered again, his hands clasping between his knees. “Does not mean that you have to do this alone. Matilda and I are ready to set everything aside if it means you come home at the end of these trials. Let us help you.”

She sighed, dropping her head back against the headboard. “Will it stop you two from worrying over me incessantly?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “That is something that will never happen. Now get some rest. I’ll be back later tonight to check on you.”

Laurel watched him leave, her eyes scanning the room. She was the only one in there, and Nurse Blainey was now sitting at her desk, her quill flying across the paper as she likely documented the predicament that was the youngest Keeper. She felt so very tired, everything beginning to feel heavy. She was vaguely aware of the matron moving over to her and helping her shift into a laying position, the still-healing break in her leg stinging briefly as she was moved. Her eyes fluttered closed and sleep overtook her.

She was only asleep for what felt like a few minutes before the presence of something warm roused her. Her eyelids were still incredibly heavy as she opened her eyes, the darkness of the room easy on her pounding head. When did the sun set? Her hands felt hot, and there was a slight weight on her good leg. She furrowed her brows, wincing as she propped herself up on her elbows. On one side, Poppy was propped up in a chair, one hand clasped tightly around her own, her chocolate bob disheveled from where she’d begun sliding down the seat.

On the other, Ominis was slumped over the side of the bed, his hand also wrapped around hers and his head resting against her thigh. His own hazy blue eyes shot open when she shifted, his sandy-blond locks draped loosely over his forehead as he lifted his head from her. He rubbed at his eyes, pushing himself up to sitting, his fingers squeezing around her hand. She could see his unseeing eyes flickering around the space in front of him as if he were searching for her.

“Laurel? Are you awake?” His voice was soft, hushed in the dead of night.

“Yes, Omi. I’m awake.” She squeezed his fingers back. “What are you two doing here?”

“We came to stay with you. Professor Sharp told Poppy you were here, and Poppy came to get the rest of us.” He pushed himself further up, his free hand squeezing her good leg. “Madame Blainey wouldn’t allow all four of us to stay, but she made an exception for Poppy and myself. How are you feeling, darling?”

She felt her cheeks warm slightly, and her voice almost threatened to not allow her to speak. “I’m okay, I suppose. My leg may not be in the best condition come Saturday.”

“Put Saturday out of your mind for now. What’s important is that you’re alright.” His smile was small and soft. “Garreth and Natty said they’ll be back in the morning. Go back to sleep, you need your rest.”

“Come up here with me?” She tugged on his hand, smiling when he chuckled and rose from his place.

He clambered up into the bed next to her, carefully wrapping her up in one arm. “Let’s just hope Madame Blainey doesn’t have a fit when she finds us like this.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I-I’m not sure, Pops. It’s just so… much. There’s so many layers.” Laurel tugged at the dress, pulling it away from her legs before her hand was slapped away from the fabric. “I can barely breathe in this thing.”

“Pain is beauty, Laurel. Just trust me.” Poppy braced one foot against the wall, pulling on the corset laces with a grunt before securing them, eliciting a yelp and a wince from her. “He may not be able to see you, but if there’s one thing a boy like Ominis will appreciate, it’s elegance.” The tiny brunette moved around her, her own skirts swishing against her calves, her hand darting out and picking up one of the combs.

“Poppy,” Her eyes tracked the brunette as the combs were pinned into either side of her hair. “Did you buy this specific dress because you had planned for Ominis to ask me?”

Poppy let out a quick, loud laugh, biting her lip and squinting her eyes at Laurel. “Sorry. Look, you’re practically my sister, and I just want you to have fun. I may have… persuaded Ominis to ask you before I had Garreth buy the dress. There. You look lovely.”

A mirror was shoved in front of her, allowing her to take in her appearance. The soft green eyeshadow paired with the kohl around the rims of her eyes made the smoky orbs appear much larger than she’d ever seen before. Her white-blonde locks were pulled up and away from her body, pinned into a loose braided bun at the base of her neck. The silver and emerald combs made her feel like royalty, and she moved her eyes lower to take in the dress.

The emerald fabric was fitted tightly against her body, the skirt hanging softly from her hips. The corset of the dress gave her torso curves she’d never known she could have. The silver necklace she’d received from Natty hung gently between her collarbones. Looking at her reflection felt like looking at a stranger, and she smoothed her palms over the skirt nervously.

“Ready?” Poppy popped back up in front of her.

The brunette was dressed in a soft, yellow gown, the ball gown skirt bouncing softly as she walked. Her own bob was pinned back above her ears, her eyes rimmed in white. She’d never seen Poppy look so elegant, and it made her smile to see how excited the tiny woman was.

“Pops, you look like a princess.” Her arm was looped through and she was dragged off out the door.

“Come come, let’s not keep the boys waiting.”