Moribund's was the superior choice, of course, but sometimes it was nice to go somewhere that she didn't have to worry about other people's enjoyment. Harrison had no idea that she was here, but Rosaline felt no guilt. Sometimes...she needed to get away, to order a Scotch without Harrison's disapproving look, and just be free. It felt good to let her hair down so to speak. "Listen, I get it, you don't want to import your Guiness from Ireland because it's more expensive, but really, you should look into it. There are just some alcohols that are better made when you import them. People are looking for quality when they come out drinking." Rosaline turned when she heard a familiar voice. "Lucius Malfoy. Lovely to see you as always. I was just educating our dear bartender here that English alcohol is the inferior brand when it comes to things like Guiness. I would just love to hear what you think."

Who: Open

Where: The Grave Affair

Lucius was for once, a little tipsy. Not drunk yet, but certainly more than he was used to being in public. He was finding it hard to deal with everything that had happened lately, his mind in a million different places at once. Usually he would sit in a private booth, but tonight he was at the bar. He couldn't help but overhear the conversation the person sat next to him was having with the bartender. "That's a very interesting opinion- I must say" Lucius butted in as he took another swig of firewhiskey

Even if she wasn't friends with Narcissa, she would have found Sirius Black utterly annoying. How did he just...do whatever he wanted without any thought of how it would affect his family? How did he just...leave? And have the audacity to have that damned smile as he pretended to apologize to her. It didn't take much to see that he didn't actually feel bad. "Hm."

"No, it couldn't be, people don't walk the other way when they see me coming down the street," she retorted. "Is that a threat, Mr. Black?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Forgiving? It's cute that you think that there's anything that you could possibly do to me."

Sirius had enough sense to stop moving when Rosaline showed no sign of doing so herself. Perhaps not the best way of handling things, but he wasn't about to jump through hoops to pay attention when the other person clearly wasn't keeping an eye on where they were going. "My apologies," He offered a forced smile in response, clearly not meaning the apology as it was.

"Unfortunate, isn't it that the same can be said about you?" He quirked a brow in response. "You may want to keep a better eye on where you are going next time," Sirius added and shook his head. "I'm feeling forgiving, but anyone else may not have shared that sentiment."

@rosalinedavis

Location: Streets of Diagon Alley Date: May Open

It was a beautiful day out, and Rosaline intended to enjoy the sunshine. It felt like winter had lasted far too long and she wanted to enjoy every moment of sun that she could. She had gone to Moribund's earlier to get some paperwork done, she much preferred to get her work done early before the staff arrived and to get out before a problem undoubtedly would come up. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a man with a canvas and easel where a small crowd had gathered. Rosaline looked wistfully at it, wishing that she were the painter. She knew her wishes and desires 'didn't go in society' and so she was stuck watching art, enjoying art, in secret, when nobody was watching her.

She felt someone watching her, and she forced a smile on her lips. "It must be nice to just waste the day painting, don't you think?" She asked, her voice derisive.

Rosaline knew that there were some people that thought that the shops in London were subpar, and perhaps they were in some regard, but she couldn't be bothered to go through all of that hassle to get dresses imported. Why spend all that effort when Twilfitt and Tattings was just as good? It made no sense, but she also didn't care enough to create an argument over it with someone. That was her way of dealing with most of the Pureblood crowd if she was being completely honest. She had always tried to appear above it all.

"It's nice to see you," Rosaline replied in greeting, glad that she didn't bring up what had happened. She knew that everyone knew what had happened, there was no point in talking about it. What was the point in bringing it up just to make them both uncomfortable? She had had plenty of awkward encounters with some of Harrison's friends since the attack. It felt like nobody knew how to talk to her anymore. "Ah yes, of course," she replied with a smile. "They do a great job with alterations, I'm getting some of my dresses altered as well," she replied.

Alexandra rarely shopped at any of the clothing shops in London. She had much more expensive taste, and most of her clothes were from Paris or Lyon. The shops in London just were not up to her very high standard. Sometimes though she had to get some of her dresses adjusted. Today was one of those days. Usually she got everything done in France, she only really trusted the seamstress that she and her mother had always used. But she hadn't been able to stay in Lyon long enough to get the dresses she'd brought adjusted. They'd arrived from France the day before, and she'd had them sent straight over to Twilfit and Tattings to get altered.

"Rosaline." She greeted with a smile. She probably should have offered some sentiment about her injuries, but she honestly didn't care. "Oh no. I don't like anything they sell here." Honest as always. "But I needed some dresses altering. I wasn't in Lyon long enough to have them done there."

I can't say I've ever known you to be a victim. It was funny, really, the way that two people could see things so differently. Rosaline often felt like a victim of their family, or well...more specifically, her dreams were victims of their family. Rosaline had never asked to be in this position, running Moribund's with their family's reputation solely on her shoulders. Her dreams of being an artist gone before she could even really think about it. Was she being dramatic? Probably. But that didn't get rid of the pit of resentment that she carried in her stomach, reminding her that her life wasn't her own. It was controlled by her family's whims, Harrison's whims. She supposed that that was just the price of being a Pureblood woman. "I just got mauled by a werewolf, let me be dramatic for a few minutes," she replies, a smile on her lips so Cordelia would know she was teasing.

"You know that I love Ajax, but I wish he could think with his head and not with his heart," She sighed. "Or figured out how to balance it like I did. There are some instances where it makes sense to lead with your heart and others where it doesn't. And Aurelia is just one of those not it situations." Rosaline worried about Ajax, and how he would take it if Aurelia ever tossed him aside for someone better. She was certain that Aurelia would do so if she was given the chance or opportunity. And Rosaline and Cordelia would be left to pick up the pieces.

It was horribly tragic, the faith that Cordelia put in her. If she knew what Rosaline's life was really like, she was certain that Cordelia would think differently. "You're the strong one, Cordie," she murmured softly. Cordelia knew what she wanted, and while Rosaline didn't understand her desire to heal, she had made a choice. What had Rosaline done? Stepped up to take on something that she never asked for, started dating a man for the status, and pushed forward. Perhaps that took a different type of strength, but Rosaline couldn't help but feel jealous that Cordelia did what she wanted and lost all of her friends in the process. Rosaline was a coward, afraid of the unknown. She was all talk and no substance. She had been so sure that she would be an artist back at Hogwarts, and look at her now. She was a socialite, a man's pretty face to show off as he pleased, never really caring about who she was so long as she played her part.

"I'm just grateful that it only got my arm. I shudder to think what would happen if it had gotten me somewhere...visible." As it was, people would know about the wound, but over time she was sure that people would forget. There would be some cheating scandal and they would all move on. It was the Socialite and High Society way. It was almost reassuring, in a messed up way, the way that these things never seemed to change. They were always the same. You could rely on things to remain exactly as they were each time. "I know," she agreed.

Rosaline was almost grateful that Cordelia had taken to deciding what she should wear. She wasn't quite sure she had the mental capacity to decide on her clothes, and besides she had no idea what a healer would approve of. She would hate to get dressed and then have to change back into that dreaded hospital gown. "Good, I'm worried that the press is going to be here when I leave," she sighed. One of the drawbacks of dating the Minister's son. "I would hate to have an unflattering picture," She rolled her eyes so Cordelia would know that it wasn't quite her thinking about that. "I think I can manage until I have to get the sweater on," she told her, biting down on her lip for a moment and slipping out of bed.

@rosalinedavis

Cordelia was gratified by Rosaline conceding her point. It was no small victory, even if they hadn’t been properly arguing. Still, she didn’t like the way her sister was talking about herself. The youngest Davis almost seemed to be lacking in some of the fire that Cordelia had always so admired in her, although that wasn’t necessarily surprising, given the circumstances. “I can’t say I’ve ever known you to be a victim, my dear. It just wasn’t a situation you’d had any experience with. That’s not a bad thing.” Cordelia’s face clouded, and for a moment she was back on the cobblestones outside Morribunds, her hands slick with Ines’ blood. She shook her head and surreptitiously wiped her hands on her healer’s robes.

Cordelia rolled her eyes and sighed. “You are not wrong. I think most men get these sort of foolish mistakes out of their system while they’re still boys, but Ajax was always a bit distractible.” Of course, most people were distractible compared to Cordelia and the single-minded focus she applied to everything, but she was confident the point still stood. “And Aurelia Rookwood is certainly distracting.” Cordelia didn’t mean it as a compliment, and she didn’t say it as one. It was nice for her to be able to speak her mind about the woman, if only to Rosaline. It helped Cordelia keep her true thoughts to herself in front of Ajax, and keep her family together.

The change in Rosaline’s demeanor and voice didn’t escape Cordelia’s notice. She’d been distracted for the past three years and maybe even longer. Ines’ death had broken something in her, but only because cracks were already there; it had taken a while for her to put the pieces back together. Now it felt like she’d woken from a bad dream to a world she didn’t recognize. Ajax with his horrible girlfriend had been her biggest concern but Rosaline’s face made Cordelia wonder if her attention had been misplaced. “I do know what that world is like.” Cordelia ran her fingers through her hair, then fixed her gaze back on her sister. “But I also know you, and you’re the strongest of all of us.” Even if it was something she’d never said out loud before, it was something Cordelia believed and her words rang true, at least to her own ears.

With Rosaline’s agreement, Cordelia sprang from her chair with the same businesslike purpose that brought to most tasks. A simple spell set the hangers that Mrs. Davis had brought to hovering above the spare bed in Rosaline’s otherwise empty room and Cordelia eyed them critically, gauging which would be the most comfortable and afford the best access to the healers. Her mother had clearly been more concerned with which pieces would look the best both on Rosaline and in a hospital bed. As she considered, Cordelia continued her conversation with her sister. “Of course I do. You know I don’t do empty flattery.” Of course Cordelia had, in the past, been quite adept at empty flattery, but it was one of the many things she’d gladly left behind in her old life.

Finally, Cordelia settled on a sleeveless top, a sweater with sleeves that could easily be rolled up and was loose enough to quickly take off, and the only pair of pants their mother had seen fit to pack. “That should do. And you have plenty left over to pick out something appropriate to wear when they release you.” Cordelia hung the remaining clothes off the rod for the curtain that could be pulled around the bed for privacy, taking care to make sure that they wouldn’t interfere with the purpose it was actually intended for. “Do you want help with all of it, or just the sweater? Remember, I helped wrangle you for bath time when you were little so there’s no need for false modesty.”

Rosaline was about to retort with an 'I thought so' when Rodolphus told her that it wasn't necessary, but she stopped herself before she said it. While she was sure Rodolphus had heard worse, she didn't want to say something she would regret. The Lestrange family was powerful, and she wasn't sure that she wanted to do anything to jeopardize her family. "Good, I was hoping you would say that," she settled for.

"Sometimes being difficult is the best way to get what you want. Younger siblings learn that real quick," she mused. "I feel like I have to say not to give your healer a hard time, considering my sister's one, but if she's not your healer then I don't really care," she shrugged. Rosaline nodded her head. She agreed, it had all been a blur, with some very clear memories. The look on the wolf's face as it attacked her. "Thank Merlin. I'm far too beautiful to turn into a monster each month. You too."

He should have been happy with the company of someone else that had been on the receiving end of the attack — more importantly, someone that wasn’t set on fawning over him or referring to him as a pain of a patient. The bed and the lack of support it provided was truly the bane of his existence. No comfortable napping to be had unless it was with the assistance of a sleeping draught. “That won’t be necessary,” He admitted even though Rosaline hadn’t moved.

“I tried,” Rodolphus gave a weak chuckle upon saying so. “Most it got was a room to myself and a healer set on reminding me being difficult only makes things more difficult for myself.” The attack wasn’t enough to make him want to skip the next Ministry-sanctioned event, but the idea of going out was … exhausting, for lack of a better word. His social cup had been overfilled from the hospital stay. “Most of it’s a blur.” He muttered. “I suppose we can be grateful no one got bit by it.”

Location: Diagon Alley @letoiledechue

Rosaline had popped into Moribund's around lunchtime to make sure that the staff had taken inventory of the alcohol that they were going to need to order for the upcoming month and to grab a few letters that needed to be sent by owl post on her way to do some shopping in Diagon Alley. Harrison had some things that she needed to pick up, and she needed to pick up some scar remedy from that apothecary in Diagon Alley, she could never remember its name. But someone had said that she should try to see if they had anything that might help. Lost in thought, she bumped into someone.

"You really should watch where you're going," Rosaline snapped like she hadn't been the one to bump into them. It took her a moment to realize that it was none other than Sirius Black. She had mixed feelings about him, truly. Rosaline was jealous that he did what he wanted and ignored the consequences, but she could never say that out loud. It would be a betrayal to Narcissa and she wouldn't do that. "Oh. I would say it's lovely to see you but we both know that's a lie."

Location: Twilfitt and Tattings @andrarosier

Over the years Rosaline had spent an inordinate amount of time and money on gowns from Twilfitt and Tattings. It was practically the uniform of the women in Narcissa Black's inner circle, and it didn't matter what Rosaline thought about that. It was just how things were, and it felt rather petulant to wish things were different. They were gorgeous gowns that left her feeling beautiful in each gown. What was there to complain about? After the attack, Mother had insisted that she have some of the gowns altered to hide the scars on her arm, despite them having already been ordered and designed. Rosaline felt apologetic for the whole thing, but what was she to do?

Wandering the shop while the witch gathered all of the things that she had ordered, Rosaline glanced up when she heard the chime above the door. Spotting Alexandra Rosier, she smiled in greeting. "Getting a new dress?" She asked. "Or just killing some time?"

Rosaline paused when she realized that it was Marlene McKinnon standing there. The topic of what she had done, and the scene that she had caused the night of the Equinox had been overshadowed by the whole attacked by a werewolf thing. Harrison and her mother hadn't brought it up, although it had been a footnote in the papers, and for that she was grateful. A part of Rosaline...regretted what she had done. She had no idea what had come over her, what had made her lose her mind. She couldn't afford to do things like that.

What surprised her more than just seeing Marlene standing there was her...kindness. Was that genuine concern in her voice? It was more than she deserved. Rosaline was not a nice person. She knew that just like she knew that she didn't like to feel vulnerable. She felt incredibly vulnerable at the moment, and while she usually lashed out in anger, she didn't want to do that again. Glancing over at Marlene she forced a smile onto her lips. "I'm going to be fine, the healers said so. It's just...just a little scratch." Well, more than a little, but she didn't want to say that out loud. "This is probably not what they meant by taking it easy, but I've never been good at following directions. And I couldn't stand being cooped up in my flat so...here I am." She ignored that the spot that she just happened to be at was the spot of the attack, and she was quite certain that Marlene knew that.

Marlene had been useless when it had come to the equinox. Wallowing in her own emotions, too captivated by words to fully comprehend the situation she'd been frozen. Useless to help others and stuck to the shadows. She felt now the least she could do was try to help clear up the aftermath. Wand gracefully held in her grasp, she'd been casting soft spells under her breath slotting loose pieces of glass and shops back in to place. Repair the broken, even if she knew nothing would be able to repair the wounds bound to that night.

She'd been casting another spell with her back facing the other when the voice startled her. Familiar, it sounded- scared almost. As she turned her head to look at Rosaline, a small frown pulled onto the edge of her features. Not from displeasure, more sorrow and regret. There was alot she felt she needed to say to the witch, with the heaviness resting on her chest. But now wasn't the time. "Rosaline-" Marlene uttered as she carefully put her wand back away at her thigh. Hoping it would be of some assurance to her, the last thing she imagined she'd want was standing with Marlene wand in hand again. "I'm sorry for what happened to you-.. are you- are you sure you should be out so soon? The medi-winx gave it the clear I hope?"

GRACE VAN PATTEN 2021, ph. by Charlotte Hamilton for Interview Magazine

Rosaline was acutely aware that she wasn't being a good friend as she took in Valeria's bandages. Her first thought was relief that she had only gotten scratched on her arm. She could hide that. But Val's... what was she going to do? It wasn't polite to mention that, of course, but she couldn't stop her mind from wondering. What did her family think?

She had been so concerned about what her own scarring would look like, and she was lucky enough that she would be able to cover it most of the time.

Rosaline forced a smile onto her lips. "I'm glad that you are doing okay, I was worried."

Flashes of seeing Val lying on the pavement, blood everywhere, flashed into her mind again. Rosaline closed her eyes for a moment and forced the thoughts from her mind.

"Oh, no, of course," Rosaline replied, moving across the room to sit down in the seat beside her bed. "I just...didn't know if you were tired," Rosaline said, realizing how lame it sounded, even to her.

Glancing down at her lap, she nodded her head. "Yeah...it has been. But it's going to be okay. Did they say...how long you would be here?" Rosaline asked. She was glad that should the night go okay, she would be released tomorrow by the afternoon. She couldn't wait to be in her own home again.

Valeria sat up very straight when she heard her friend. Part of her had wondered whether they would come see her at all. She wouldn't have blamed them if they hadn't. She imagined the pity might be too great to face. Pity was not something that was done in good society.

But, she couldn't help but be relieved to see one of her childhood friends had come to see her, and she nearly forgot her bandages in her delight, smiling just a bit too wide. She winced at the motion, from embarrassment as much as pain.

"I'm doing much better now! I'm glad to see you, Rosa!"

It took her a moment to realize Rosa hadn't made a move to enter the room. Valeria's smile faltered ever so slightly and the memory of why she was here hit her like the stunning charm.

Oh, Merlin, what was there to say...?

She ducked her head just slightly and continued, trying to keep the subject off of the one thing on both of their minds.

"Would you like to sit down? I understand if you're too busy and just wanted to pop in. We could always wait until I'm healed."

Valeria's voice caught slightly at the mention of healing. She smiled over the break in her voice.

"But, I think I'd like it if you'd sit. I think it's been a rough twenty-four hours for both of us."

"Please, as if a werewolf could take down a Davis after everything," Rosaline laughed lightly, trying to make light out of the whole situation. Somehow all of the trouble that her family had gone through in recent years felt more devastating. She hadn't been bitten by the damned werewolf, so she could make jokes. It was easier than breaking down in front of a stranger. "Thank you, but you don't have to apologize. You didn't cause the attack," she waved his concern away. "I'm okay, my sister has been spoiling me." She shrugged her shoulders. "It is what it is, right? I had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. That's life."

with: @rosalinedavis

"Appreciated Miss Davis, thank you." Putting his badge back into his pocket, Remus followed her gesture and pulled up a chair beside her bed, settling in to begin speaking with her. Remus was not well practised in the art of interviewing, having only really taken photos before, but he knew the Order needed to get ahead of this and so using his badge where possible was necessary. "Well I'm glad to hear that and I'm glad to see you're doing okay. I just wanted to start by saying I'm really sorry to hear what happened to you Miss Davis and I hope you are okay and if I can get you anything before we start, I'm more than happy to run and get you a tea or a water? I'm sure you're sick of people asking you questions by now."

Trust Cordelia to take her self-deprecating nature so seriously. She knew that she was a bright witch, she always had been, even when it wasn't necessarily the 'cool' thing to be at school. Rosaline wasn't brilliant by any means, but when she put her mind to it, her professors always noticed. But being friends with Narcissa Black and fitting into that group meant not being too bright. The whole thing had been rather exhausting. She had hated it at school, and it was a cruel irony that she was in that position again, dating Harrison. He liked her to be bright when it was convenient to him, but then there were times when she had to...be less bright, otherwise, she might outshine someone. "No, I guess I'm not," she agreed, looking at her sister. "Just when it comes to danger I guess. You could say that I'm a bit of a cliche, the damsel in distress and all of that."

Was it mean, their ongoing jokes at Aurelia's expense? Sure. But Rosaline had never pretended to be nice. She had learned the art of being two-faced among some of the best, and she was very good at it. She had to be in order to survive the Hogwarts years. She had made a promise to herself at the time that when she was out of school she would let it go. She had never thought that she would be in this position, but here she was. Rosaline laughed. "True. I love our brother dearly but he truly has the worst taste in women. It's a shame, really. If I thought that I could fix it I would, but what's the point?"

Somehow Cordelia managed to cut into her without even realizing what she had said. She didn't care about her chart, or what the doctors thought about the state of her wound. What she cared about, had to care about was the damned scarring that was going to come with it. Cordelia could say that she was a strong woman but Rosaline knew the truth. No strong woman would put up with what she did. She was merely Harrison's pretty face, there to play a very specific role in his life, and she allowed it. She could have walked away from him, but she couldn't dream of it. As much as she hated it, she needed him. "You don't know that, Cordie," Rosaline finally murmured, her voice small, and she hated it. "You know how things are for women like us in our position. Ha--" she stopped herself. Somehow opening up about her relationship with Harrison to Cordelia seemed impossible. She cleared her throat. "Mother is rather displeased about the scar already. I'm certain she is going to look into French healers to see if there's something that can be done."

Perhaps for other sisters, it would be normal to have a vulnerable, messy, conversation. But not for the Davis sisters. Rosaline loved her sister as complicated as things were, but to talk to her about Harrison? She nearly shuddered. "You really think that I'm the prettiest one here?" Rosaline teased, feeling more comfortable returning to that kind of conversation. "If you think that I can change out of this horrid hospital gown, you don't need to tell me twice. Mother left the things she brought me over there. I...would appreciate the help."

@rosalinedavis

Cordelia gave Rosaline a significant look, but she bit back her weary sigh. “You aren’t always.” In fact, Rosaline had always been incredibly bright, and even as a child, when a subject caught her interest she would pick it up quite quickly. The difficult bit had been convincing Rosaline that something she didn’t like was also worth learning, something Cordelia still struggled with. Rosaline’s will had always been indomitable, even in the face of Cordelia and their mother combined. And while a rational part of Cordelia knew that if Rosaline had listened and hidden like she told her to then she wouldn’t be in St. Mungo’s today, she couldn’t help but take on the blame, anyway. Cordelia was 31, very nearly 32, and she should be able, by now, to tell Rosaline to do something in such a way that she actually would do it. Maybe later, that was something they could talk about, but now was neither the time nor the place for such a conversation. 

Instead Cordelia smiled wryly at her sister. “Of course you’re more important than clothes, but we can’t expect poor Aurelia to be as exceptionally bright as you and I.” Not that Aurelia wasn’t a clever witch, much to Cordelia’s dismay. She would probably worry less about Ajax if his girlfriend were too stupid to use him for her own gains, but alas the young woman showed no signs of that being the case. 

But Cordelia was more worried about Rosaline than Ajax at the moment, a return to what had been the normal order of things for most of her siblings’ lives until quite recently. Cordelia examined Rosaline’s chart with a practiced eye, then looked back to her sister. “I’m glad you’re feeling okay, at least, and there’s nothing concerning here.” Cordelia replaced the chart and took her sister’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “It’s okay if you don’t want to look at it now. It will continue to heal and it will look better as it does, but it’s never going to go away completely, you know that. And Rosaline, you are far too strong a woman to be taken down by something as small as a scar.” By and large the Davis family didn’t talk about their feelings, and Cordelia had always followed their parents’ example of being sparing with praise, but the more she thought about it the more she felt like those choices had been mistakes. 

Still, it felt rather awkward and messy to Cordelia, being vulnerable with her sister. She wasn’t sure she liked it. She always preferred to be doing something, rather than talking about sentimental things, so when Rosaline mentioned what their mother brought Cordelia straightened. “Would you like me to help you? You don’t have to do anything, of course. People are allowed to look as peaked as they’d like when they’re in the hospital, and you are much prettier than the average patient even without makeup. But the hospital gowns really don’t do any favors and there’s no reason for you to stay in it when we just need access to your arm.”

Location: Knockturn Alley Date: March 28, 1986, Afternoon Open Starter

Rosaline was quite certain that her mother would throw a fit if she knew that she had left her flat to go to Knockturn Alley, to the place where it had all happened. She had been released from St. Mungo's with strict instructions to return immediately should she feel ill or develop any signs of infection. The healers kept saying that she was lucky that it had only scratched her arm, and she supposed that compared to Valeria and Rodolphus she was lucky. Val's face was probably ruined forever. If she had been scratched on the face...would Harrison still be with her? And would...would it have been the worst thing in the world? It felt incredibly insensitive to have those thoughts considering it all, but she couldn't stop herself.

Standing in the exact spot that she had been standing in when she was attacked, she stared down at the ground. They hadn't managed to clean the blood up completely yet, and it made her stomach churn seeing it. That was her blood. Hers. Mixed with Andressa and Val's, she was shocked that they didn't have this part of the street blocked off. Had they been in the direct aftermath? She could ask Harrison, she supposed, but she had no idea how he would react to her being there. Rosaline didn't know what she was hoping to find here, but she found herself somehow feeling worse than she had before she got there.

A shuffling noise behind her startled her, and she nearly screamed, barely managing to hold it back as she whipped around. "I--I'm sorry, you startled me."

Rosaline glanced at the badge that he pulled out, and immediately shifted in the bed, sitting up a little bit straighter. An Auror. She was suddenly glad that she had put herself together a little bit more. It wasn't a surprise that the Ministry wanted to talk about what had happened, but she had thought that there might be a bit more time before she had to talk about it. But there was no sense in pushing it off. The werewolf, whoever it had been, was out there somewhere, ready to attack more innocent people. "Of course," she told him, gesturing towards the chair by her bed. "No, please...I'm happy to help however I can." It wasn't like this was her first time, the Aurors had so many questions after the last time. "You came at a perfect time."

with: @rosalinedavis

Remus allowed her to adjust for a moment, he imagined she was feeling tired both from the events that had transpired and no doubt the persistence in people asking to see her. "No I'm not." He replied with a friendly smile, walking into the room as he dug his badge out of his pocket. "Lupin. Remus Lupin." Producing the badge, he showed it towards Rosaline and waited her to be satisfied with it. "I'm with the auror's office I'm a crime scene expert. I know you must be feeling tired but I wondered if I could speak with you about what happened last night? It's okay if not, I can come back another time, I wouldn't be shocked if you've have had enough of speaking to people. Especially people you don't know asking questions you probably don't want to answer." He added, pushing the badge back into his pocket.

Rosaline glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "I mean if you want I'll just go back to my room and you can be here all on your lonesome," she retorted. But she didn't actually make any effort to get out of the chair that she had just made herself comfortable in. She really didn't want to go back to her room, alone.

It was still hard to wrap her mind around what had happened. A werewolf. In London. "What, the Lestrange money not good enough for a private mediwix?" She questioned. "I'm quite certain Cordelia's never going to let me out of her sight at the next Ministry event," she mused with a shake of her head. "Me neither. It all happened so fast..." she trailed off for a moment, glancing down at her lap. "One second it was just Val and then in the next breath it was back."

"Then why are you here?" Rodolphus groaned. That was it for complaining since he didn't have the energy for much else. What was the saying - misery loved company? He would take what he could get since she was another one with the luck of having been attacked.

"About the same minus Cordelia," He muttered, decidedly dropping his guard low enough to warrant keeping up the discussion. "Couldn't enlist a private mediwix, or I would have been home by now." Potions did little to get rid of the discomfort the hospital bed caused. Even with the seriousness of the situation, he wanted out of the place as soon as possible. "I can't say werewolf was on my expectations for last night."

Rosaline knew that Cordelia would probably have a fit if she went to her room and she wasn't there, but she couldn't stand staying in her bed, bored. She felt okay right now, and what did it matter if she was sitting in Andressa's room instead of her own? It was just a few doors down from her own, after all. Rosaline and Andressa had a sort of... friendship lately, and she felt like she should go visit her. And it would help to keep her mind off of what had happened. Rosaline was starting to think that she should avoid Ministry events like dragon pox.

But Harrison would never allow it, so she only allowed herself to think like that for a moment. She supposed that that was the drawback of dating the Minister's son. There were plenty of expectations of them. She supposed that the attack had overshadowed her little...argument with Marlene. Harrison hadn't even mentioned it, so perhaps everyone would forget all about it.

Standing in the doorway for a moment, she could see that Andressa had had similar thoughts to her, in her silk pajamas. The hospital gown wouldn't do. "Sounds better than what Rodolphus wanted to read," she teased, walking into the room. She hadn't even attempted to hide the bandages covering her arm. "How're you feeling?"

location: st. mungos

status: open (if they'd be at the hospital)

There was not much worse for Andressa than having to sit still. That wasn't something she had done for about six years now. It was one thing after another and now? Now she was forced to stay in a bed and relax. Who had time for that? She had tried to get some work done but the healers had taken her papers, leaving her only with a few books her father had dropped off. Bandages were visible on her chest, even with her silk pajama set. The last thing she was going to do was heal with a cotton gown on. She was in a hospital, not Azkaban.

Besides the bandages and being a little pale, Dre looked okay. Sure, a lot of it was makeup. Say what you will but Andressa Parkinson would not let something like a violent attack allow her to not look put together. But, much like when her mother passed, she wasn't dealing with just how she felt about everything. And this time she didn't have the Grave to distract her.

Her door was left open as she settled into her pillows. Merlin, she was bored. She took a deep breath before opening another book. "If this is another bloody romance," she muttered under her breath. "I don't know if I can deal with another ripped bodice."