21. Trials of Psycho Bludgers.

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booksmarts and broomsticks
act ii , take a breath
chapter twenty-one , trials of
psycho bludgers

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OLIVER WOOD
november 1992



     "WILL SOMEBODY TELL ME where in the fuck the marmalade is?"

        Dria's eyebrows were furrowed in frustration, her blue eyes hardening as they swept over the spread of assortments upon the tabletop in front of her.

       Her question alerted the three girls that sat by her, each of them setting down various distractions in order to cast their own glances upon the spread.

        "I think they've run out." Jackie shrugged, from opposite the blonde with the Daily Prophet still in her hands, as she pushed a jar of apricot jam towards Dria as an alternative.  

        "Seriously?" Dria whined, batting away the jar hastily, as she slumped in her seat with her head resting in her hands. "This place is a school of magic! How is it possible to run out of marmalade?"

Dria's gaze shot to the piece of plain toast, she'd placed on her plate seconds previously, forlornly, while her three friends continued to survey her with bewildered expressions as they tucked in to their own breakfasts.

"You're very touchy about this marmalade." Penny remarked, as she stirred a spoonful of sugar into her tea, tilting her head a little in confusion at the blonde.

         "What? Can't a girl just want some marmalade?" Dria shrugged, casting an absent-minded glance down the length of the Gryffindor table in the direction of a certain Keeper, who was picking at the toast on his plate, glumly.

        In fact, the glance may have not been so absent-minded as the blonde had spared the boy at least ten glances since breakfast had started. Each time she looked, her jaw would clench in concern before her gaze rapidly shot back to her friends, who had just about clocked on to what had caused Dria's shift in mood.

        "And it's got nothing to do with the fact that Wood's over there stressing the fuck out?" Tess asked with an arched eyebrow, as she shovelled a forkful of scrambled egg into her mouth.

        Dria's eyes immediately shot to those of Tess where she was met with a light wink, and a knowing smirk which was mirrored by the other two girls that sat by the blonde.

        She didn't bother to deny the plain fact her friends had observed and just replied with a small sigh, as she shifted her gaze back to the Keeper who still hadn't touched his toast. 

        "He hasn't eaten anything."

        "Okay, stalker."

        Dria's worry was immediately replaced with a look of incredulity as she looked back towards Jackie who was merely smirking victoriously, while the blonde opposite her sneered in response.

"Go talk to him." Penny told the blonde tentatively, with a small smile as she nodded in the Keeper's direction. "He listens to you."

Dria allowed her gaze to rise from her marmalade-less toast and meet that of Penny, who gave her an encouraging nod, before looking over to Jackie and Tess who only mirrored the Ravenclaw's expression.

With a delicate exhale, Dria gave a small nod to herself and gently tapped the tabletop with a quiet muttering of 'right', before swinging her legs over the side of bench and slowly moving down the table.

Oliver didn't notice her initially, as she hovered awkwardly before him. His mind was wrapt up with the Quidditch plays he'd been writing up until that morning, with the worry that his training sessions wouldn't pay off and an intense loss of appetite and bout of nerves that always struck him before a match.

He idly picked at the crusts of his toast, before Dria took the decisive action to sit opposite him, plastering on a small smile and clearing her throat to grab his attention.

"Hey." She said, her voice faltering a little as she first spoke causing the Keeper's head to shoot up in alarm, which soon disappeared upon recognising the voice that had spoken.

        "Hey." Oliver replied, his worries lifting slightly although his voice didn't convey such an emotion, as it faltered slightly and he had to clear his throat soon after.

"How are you feeling?"

"I could tell you that I'm alright." The Keeper replied with a wry smile, "But I know you'd never believe it."

Dria gave a light chuckle at his answer, but let it subside as she realised what his reply actually meant.

"You're going to be fine." She assured him, her eyebrows furrowing in sincerity. "You have nothing to worry about."

"I know, but—"

"No buts." She cut him off with a shake of her head, before nodding in the direction of his untouched food. "Eat."

"Dria, I'm not—"

"Eat, damn it."

       With a small amused smile at her sudden assertiveness, the Keeper held his hands up in mock surrender before lifting up a piece of toast and taking a bite, watching as a satisfied expression crossed her features.

        The two sat in silence as Oliver took a few more hasty bites of his breakfast, confounded at how much his nerves had settled in her presence.

        "How are you always so sure?" He asked the girl with a small smile, as he reached forward for his glass of pumpkin juice.

        Dria pondered for a moment as he set his glass back down and arched an eyebrow at her, waiting to hear her response. She let out a small breath, before plastering on a knowing smile, as she leaned forward on her elbows.

        "Because Gryffindor have one thing that Slytherin don't."

        "And what's that?"

         "You."

        The small smirk that had spread its way across Oliver's face, in the few seconds after hearing her initial answer, slowly morphed into a breathless expression as she proved her unwavering faith in him once again.

         "You're a brilliant captain." Dria affirmed, with an encouraging smile as she nodded in sincerity. "And I'll be there in the stands cheering you on every step of the way ..." Her blue eyes went wide in realisation of her words, before she hastily added, "... along with the rest of the school, of course."

        Oliver didn't particularly notice the slightness of her change in demeanour as she hurriedly added to her original statement, but instead continued to survey herself with the upmost fascination; it seemed as everything was in perspective when she was around him. He felt grounded.

        "Thanks Dria."

        His normal response allowed the blonde to relax, and dropped her tense shoulders in relief that he hadn't taken notice of her sudden nervousness, before allowing herself to return to normal and spared him a tight-lipped smile.

        "Don't thank me," She chuckled, nodding towards the doors of the Great Hall where the rest of his team were departing, as he took the bite final bite of his toast. "Get your arse up and out of here so you can win that match!"

         Oliver swallowed the rest of his breakfast quickly, careful not to choke as he emitted a chuckle as the haste with which she encouraged him, even giving his shin a brief kick under the table.

        "I'm going, I'm going!" He cried, a bright smile now stretched across his lips — that had been tied in a glum expression up until the blonde had joined him — and he rose from his seat.

        Oliver soon broke into a light jog after his team, casting a glance back at the blonde girl still sat at the table as he went, who persisted to shoo him away with a humoured expression on her lips.

        Letting out a breath of relief as he passed through the doors of the Great Hall, Dria slumped ever so slightly in her seat. She was satisfied and in much brighter spirits than she had been when disputing marmalade some time before.

        "Hey, Dria?"

        Before Dria could so much as look up to see who had spoken to her — although she knew to be Tess — her plate of toast had been placed in front of her, and was soon followed by an open jar of a particular citrus preserve that brought a smile to the blonde's face.

       With a small chuckle, she looked up to find her three friends smirking down at her, looking rather chuffed with themselves.

        "We found the marmalade."

***

"ANOTHER GOAL FOR Slytherin! They lead Gryffindor ninety to thirty!"

        Dria had learned to associate Lee Jordan's commentary with laughter and a quick-witted joke every now and again, but as his voice rang out across the stadium reminding the crowd of the Quidditch scores she wished he was joking.

        "This is the most depressing match I've ever witnessed." The blonde groaned to her fellow Gryffindor, who too had been watching the game for the last fifty minutes with a glum expression across her lips.

        It had seemed, much to everyone's disappointment, that — while Oliver's training programme had gone to plan — Gryffindor could ultimately never match up to the speed of the Nimbus 2001s upon which the entire Slytherin team rode.

        Dria's jaw clenched at the thought, however each time it did she reminded herself that her sister had punched the team's new Seeker in the face and that thought would calm her ever so slightly.

         "So much for you telling Wood he'll be fine, Dria." Penny turned around from where she stood before Tess and Dria, with Jackie at her side who was grimacing at something in the far distance.

        "What do you mean?" The blonde's eyebrows narrowed in confusion at the words of her Ravenclaw friend.

"Well ... he's just been knocked off his broom."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, not again!"

Dria's eyes initially widen in panic before a frustrated scoff left her lips upon seeing that what Penny had told her was true.

Oliver was shaking his head and slowly being helped off the pitch by Madam Hooch, with his splintered broom in hand.

"Come on, Oliver, I thought you were supposed to be good at this shit!" Dria shouted after him, although in no way whatsoever could he hear her reaction to his fall.

"What's going on with that Bludger?"

The words of the Hufflepuff stood before her were able to bring Dria out her momentary incredulity, and back into reality where the Irish girl was squinting through a pair of binoculars.

Dria looked up to follow Jackie's gaze but failed to see anything but a few blurs of red, so the blonde promptly snatched the binoculars from Jackie's grasp ("Oi!") and brought them to her own eyes.

Pointing them up at where Jackie had been looking, the view had now come into the better focus as Dria looked through the binoculars. Harry Potter — of course, who else? — was flying around in a sporadic panic, as a Bludger followed him close on his tail, some fifty feet above them.

Just as the binoculars were snatched back out of her hands, she heard the booming voice of the groundskeeper, Hagrid, cry out exactly what she was thinking from where he stood with Ron and Hermione just a few people away.

"Blimey! Harry's got himself a rogue Bludger!" The half-giant yelled, before his face contorted in a disapproving grimace, and he shook a fist at the scene unfolding before him. "That's been tampered with, that has!"

        "Are we ever going to be able to watch a normal game of Quidditch?" Dria heard herself groaning all prior feelings of alarm for the boy abandoned — he'd endured worse.

        Her question however went unanswered as her three friends — along with the rest of the students that stood by them — were continuing to watch the young boy in his predicament.

"That Bludger's not just rogue, it's freaking psycho. Look at it!" Jackie cried, with her binoculars held so closely to her eyes that Dria expected to see ring marks when she put them down.

"Jackie, stop smiling!"

"What? It's entertaining!"

The four girls watched in amazement as the Bludger persisted after Harry's broomstick, crashing through the tall stands that lined the stadium in its pursuit.

The boy managed to lose it momentarily in the stand dressed in Ravenclaw blue and bronze, as he pulled sharply back into the centre of the pitch, his eyes wide as he continued looking around for the Golden Snitch.

However, the momentary loss was just that; momentary. Seconds following the boy's respite, a loud crash sounded and the Bludger came flying out of the stand and hurtling through the air towards the Potter boy.

Luckily, he swerved once more and managed to avoid what would have been a catastrophic collision; Dria let out a large breath of relief as her hand gripped Tess' arm, tensely.

But that relief was short lived, as the direction in which the Seeker swerved was directly towards the stands in which the four of them stood.

"Duck!"

Dria's blue eyes widened as she saw the Seeker zooming towards them, and quickly grabbed Jackie's shoulders and pulled her down with her as she responded to Penny's instruction, as the Ravenclaw too crouched down followed by Tess.

A sharp whooshing sound echoed overhead, as the four girls — alongside all the spectators around them — crouched to the floor with their eyes squeezed shut and jaws clenched tightly, before hesitantly rising back up to their feet and looking after the Seeker with their mouths agape.

        The spectators around them immediately jumped into startled conversation, exclaiming their worry and panic, however the four girls continued to stare after the boy in silence — what on earth would he achieve next?

        Jackie let out a short humming sound as the four slowly edged back into their spaces and turned to face the pitch once more.

        "Okay, this may not be as fun as I first thought." The Hufflepuff said nonchalantly, crediting her friends' reaction to the event.

        "And it took nearly getting your neck snapped to discover that?"

        "You've made your point!"

        After nearly crashing into the crowd of spectators, the Seeker — along with his psycho Bludger — vanished for a short while, no doubt in search for the Snitch, but the sudden disappearance did not sit well with the spectators that the Bludger had narrowly missed in its escapade. Yet Dria found that worry soon subsiding when an indication their whereabouts was signalling by the flailing body of the Slytherin Seeker flying through air.

        The crowd let out a collective hiss upon seeing him land, rather awkwardly, on the green turf of the pitch. Their eyes squinting to see the pained expression on his pale face, not envying the position he'd found himself in.

        "Yikes, that's going to leave a mark." Tess muttered, through gritted teeth as the boy laid still upon the floor, clutching his abdomen where no doubt all of the wind had been knocked out of him. 

        "It better." Dria found herself saying absentmindedly as she gazed down on the sight with pursed lips.

        "Dria!"

        "What? I actually need to learn something in my volunteering hours, don't I?" The blonde retorted in response to the horrified expression on Penny's face. "The more injuries, the better."

        "Keep your voice down!" The Ravenclaw hissed in a whisper, cautiously looking around her. "People will think you're a sociopath."

        "And they won't be wrong." Tess chuckled, before she was met with a hasty smack on the arm from the blonde beside her.

         "Oi!"

         Penny's statement would have made sense if the people around them hadn't been so enraptured with what was happening on the pitch, even Jackie — who always had a snarky comment to make, and would have loved to contribute to the idea of Dria being a sociopath — was too focused behind the lenses of her binoculars to pay any attention to whatever her friends were talking about.

        Shortly after Malfoy's reappearance, the Gryffindor Seeker had re-emerged into the sight of spectators, his emerald eyes narrowed at the small Golden Snitch that fluttered ahead of him.

        However, the intent with which he gazed upon the Snitch distracted him from the threat of the approaching Bludger that had reappeared and in a matter of seconds collided with the boy's outstretched in a sickening crunch, that was met with a pained grimace from the boy and an exclamation of horror from the crowd.

         Dria hissed at the sight, convincing that such a collision would have shattered the bones in his arm as though they were brittle twigs. How on earth the boy managed to keep flying and simply outstretch his other hand in pursuit of the Snitch was beyond her.

        A few moments later the boy lurched forward, his hand closing around the Golden Snitch but at the expense of his balance upon the broom, and was flipped onto the underside of the broomstick and dragged along the sand pit below the Keeper's hoops before he eventually let go and fell to the floor in a defeated drop.

Almost in sync, the four girls' jaws dropped at the anticlimactic end of the game, their eyes trained on the figure of the boy still spread out across the ground as his two friends and the ground keeper shuffled past them to get to the boy.

"Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! Gryffindor wins!"

At the sound of Lee's elated cry, the shock of the prior ten minutes left the crowd in an array of cheers and applause. Dria let out an exasperated chuckle as she felt Tess wrap her arms around her in celebration.

But a loud whirring noise and a crash caused the applause to cease almost as quickly as it had started and, leaning forward to bring their gazes back to the pitch, the crowd soon saw the source of the noise.

The psycho Bludger had smashed into the ground just by Harry's head in attempt to harm him despite the game's end, and persisted to do so. Each time, the boy rolled out of the way just in time so as not to be crushed by the aggressive object.

Dria blue eyes were wide once more, as she fought the urge to bury her face in Tess' shoulder, and was very grateful when she saw the Bludger combust in a bright explosion over the boy's head, as a result of a spell fired from the wand of the bushy-haired second year running towards him with a red-head and groundskeeper at her side.

"This game does wonders for my blood pressure." Dria exhaled as she allowed herself to slump onto Tess' shoulder in exhaustion.

The Robbins girls only chuckled and patted the blonde's head, amid craning her neck to see over Jackie and Penny's heads and onto the pitch where a large crowd was forming around the Potter boy.

"Lockhart's heading over there." Penny muttered, as she observed the event with an unsure expression.

Dria's head shot up from Tess' shoulder at the mention of the idiotic professor, and she shook her tiredness away in place of focus to fix her gaze on the man who was knelt by the side of the Gryffindor Seeker who looked rather alarmed at his presence.

"Well, if the Bludger didn't finish him off, Lockhart certainly will."

Her comment was met with disapproving shushes from Tess and Jackie, and a hearty chuckle of agreement from Penny.

A few more minutes passed and the four girls found themselves tangled in the crowd of spectators leaving the stands, chatting animatedly after such an eventful match.

"I am amazed at how often I find myself wondering whether this game should actually be legal." Dria mused, once they'd started their ascent back up to the castle.

"Well, this match is fairly solid example, I'll give you that." Jackie called in response, from where was walking arm in arm with Tess.

Dria spared her a smile, glad to see that her opinion on Quidditch — despite her completely not despising the sport anymore — was somewhat credible.

"I should probably run up to the Hospital Wing," Dria muttered out loud, as she slipped her arm out of Penny's, and began jogging ahead only turning back to shoot her friends a quick smile. "The Bludger didn't just claim Harry as a victim."

With a chorus of farewells from her friends, Dria took in a deep breathe and powered on up the hill, trying to ignore the burning of her legs in response to the slightest hint of her body doing exercise.

Her footfalls only slowed when she caught sight of a certain Keeper, dressed in red and gold robes, in the Entrance Hall. Dria could feel a small smile settle on her lips at the sight of him, and pressed her lips together as she fell into step next to him.

"Oh, hi!" Oliver smiled in response to her sudden appearance, as they ascended the steps up to the first floor, and subsequently the Hospital Wing.

"Are you alright?" Dria found herself asking, her smile fading ever so slightly as she furrowed her eyebrows in mild concern; he didn't seem too beaten up. "I saw you fall."

"Yeah, yeah." He nodded, looking himself up and down briefly to assure her. "I managed to stick the landing, so I'm fine."

Dria's smile reinstated itself upon her lips at the news, feeling a little lighter in the knowledge that he had been unharmed in the game.

"Is everything okay with Harry?" She asked, in a change of subject, upon seeing the doors of the Hospital Wing open as the wounded from the match entered. "I saw Lockhart with him—"

"I'm not sure, I didn't see what he did." The Keeper cut her off, following her gaze with a look of slight apprehension. "I can only assume the worst."

Dria let out a groan of dread, as the two entered the Hospital Wing where various students were being place upon the beds that lined the room. Shooting the Keeper an apologetic glance, Dria began bustling through the crowd of students towards the matron that stood in the middle of the room, directing students to appropriate beds.

"Ah Miss Lockaby," Madam Pomfrey greeted the girl, before sparing a glance towards the bed whereupon Harry was being laid down. "Fetch the Skele-Gro from the cupboard, if you would be so kind?"

"You're regrowing his bones?" The blonde replied, her blue eyes wide in incredulity at what Lockhart had managed to achieve. "That idiot seriously vanished his bones—!"

"The Skele-Gro, Miss Lockaby." The matron cut her off, with a light pat to her shoulder and pointing at the cupboard.

"Right, sorry."

         Loosening her scarf from around her neck, Dria nodded sheepishly and shook herself from her momentary fury, and made her way over to the supply cupboard, throwing her scarf and gloves down on a stool on her way.

         "Should've been brought straight to me." Dria heard Madam Pomfrey muttering, as she made her way back from the supply cupboard with Skele-Gro in hand. "I can mend bones in a heartbeat— but growing them back ..."

        "You will be able to, won't you?" Hermione asked with brows furrowed from where she stood around Harry's bedside with Ron and most of the Gryffindor team.

        "Oh, I'll be able to, certainly. But it'll be painful." The matron told the girl, as Dria spared the second-year a reassuring smile amid pouring a cup of the liquid for the Potter boy. "You're in for a rough night, Potter. Regrowing bones is a nasty business."

        Harry's face was contorted in an expression of slight panic, as Dria nudged him before holding out the cup of Skele-Gro towards him. He took it from her with a grateful smile and took a large gulp of the liquid, Dria pulled an expression of disgust in response to his action, knowing very well what the consequence would be.

         "Ugh!"

        The cup flew away from his mouth, as the boy violently spat out the vile tasting tonic, pulling an expression of disgust as he let out a few harsh coughs.

         "Well, it was never going to be pumpkin juice, Harry." Dria tutted, reaching down and patting the boy on the back as he continued to gag.

        "Uh!"

        The sound of liquid pouring tore Dria's attention away from the disgusted boy, and turned to Madam Pomfrey who was pouring him another helping of Skele-Gro, evidently in the hope that it would stay down a bit better than the previous cup.

        "Would you mind tending to Miss Rowle over there?" The matron asked, nodding over to the other side of the room.

        Following the gaze of Madam Pomfrey, Dria saw Phoebe Rowle still dressed in her emerald green Quidditch robes, with her brown hair coming undone out of its ponytail as she cradled her left hand with an expression of discomfort strewn across her face. At her side stood Cecelia Kennedy, with a face of thunder; her jaw clenched and nostrils flared as she paced up and down the bedside, much to the annoyance of the injured Slytherin Chaser lying on the bed.

        Sparing the matron another obedient nod, Dria plastered a small smile and made her way over to the two Slytherins, standing at the end of the bed and clearing her throat to grasp their attention.

        "What's the damage?"

        "That stupid Bludger only went and broke her hand." The feisty Slytherin on her feet replied, her nostrils still flared as she sank down on the chair by the bedside.

        "Celia, it's not that bad." Phoebe tutted, with a roll of her eyes, brushing off her friend's comment as she shot Dria an apologetic glance.

        "Not bad?" Cecelia retorted, folding her arms as her eyebrows raised incredulously at the comment. "You can hardly move it!"

        Dria pressed her lips together awkwardly as the two friends continued to bicker over the condition of the Chaser's injury. After a few moments of contemplation — and further arguing from the two Slytherin girls — Dria determined that a course of decisive action would be the route to take in order to understand what the patient required from her.

        Clearing her throat once more, Dria slowly edged around the bed and sank into the chair on the other side, opposite Cecelia, before arching a brow at Phoebe.

        "Can I have a look?"

Tentatively, the brunette nodded and outstretched her hand into Dria's, wincing slightly as the blonde gently prodded along the bone structure — just like Madam Pomfrey had shown her some weeks prior.

        "I swear to Merlin when I get my hands on Marcus Flint, I'm going to—!"

        "Who's to say it was Flint's fault at all?" Phoebe cut off the hot-headed girl on her right, who was still slumped in her chair with her arms folded and nostrils flared.

       "Phoebe, don't go defending him!" Cecelia scolded her friend, who winced but as a result of Dria's prodding not her friend's tone; Dria spared her an apologetic look. "If he had it his way you wouldn't be on the team at all."

        "You just hate him."

        "Don't we all." Dria heard herself muttering involuntarily, earning a smirk from Cecelia who raised her eyebrows at Phoebe in achievement of the Gryffindor agreeing with her. "Well, good news. I don't think it's broken."

        Dria shot the Slytherin girl a light smile as she laid her hand back upon her front, and rose back up to her feet.

        "See?"

       "But it's probably fractured at least."

       "See?"

       Stifling a chuckle at the bickering pair — whose argument settled rather quickly as the actual condition of the Chaser's injury credited both of their points of view — Dria reached for the chart on the end of the bed, and tucked it under her arm as she began to edge away.

        "I'll wrap it up for you, and a bit of tonic to stop the pain." Dria told the Slytherin Chaser with a small smile on her lips.

        "Thanks, Dria."

        She smiled with a small shrug in response to the brunette before her gaze shot to the platinum blonde at the bedside, and a small smirk crossed her features.

        "And if you need a hand with whatever got planned for when you get your hands on Flint ..."

        Cecelia's eyes lit up at the proposition, her nostrils finally relaxing from their permanent flaring as she met the gaze of the Gryffindor.

        "Oh, you're more than welcome, Lockaby."

        Shooting her a knowing smile and readjusting the clipboard under her arm, the blonde turned on her heel and set out for the supply cupboard once more to get the various equipment to treat the girl.

        However, she found herself getting waylaid as she bustled through the red and gold posse huddled around Harry's bedside and her gaze meet the coffee-coloured orbs of the boy who always managed to bring a blush to her cheeks.

        "You don't need anything, do you?" Dria asked the Keeper, after they'd found themselves looking at one another for a little longer than someone would deem normal.

        "No, no, I'm fine." He dismissed her worries with a light smile as she slowly continued making her way to the supply cupboard. "There are others in worse shape, I'm sure."

        With a slight gesture, and an inviting gleam in her smile, the blonde allowed the boy to fall into step with her as they ambled along the aisle of the Hospital Wing, falling back into conversation.

        "That was a weird match." Dria declared, with a nervous laugh, taking her hand through her hair, and sparing a glance at the Keeper beside her to gauge his opinion.

        "I have never seen a Bludger act like that." Oliver agreed with her, as she reached the supply cupboard and opened it — the door giving an objectionable croak as she did.

        "Trust it to happen to Harry of all people." The Lockaby girl tutted, sparing a sympathetic glance at the boy in question who looked to be in considerably higher spirits as he conversed with his friends — all thought of Skele-Gro forgotten.

        "The lad's got the worst luck I've ever known." Oliver agreed once more, not following her gaze but instead finding it absentmindedly resting upon the blonde beside him as she turned back to rummage through the cupboard.

        He couldn't help but crack a smile as he saw her eyebrows furrowing in concentration, making a small crease in the space between them, and the pursing of her lips as she inspected the labelled vials in the cupboard, looking for the right one.

        His trance only broke when she noticed his silence, and shot him a glance as she grasped a roll of bandages in hand, a small smirk forming on her lips.

        "Still, there are some positives." She told him, a wide grin breaking across her face momentarily as she discovered the correct vial of pain-killing medication that Phoebe required.

        "What?" The Scottish boy asked, quirking an eyebrow in curiosity as she gently closed the doors to the cupboard and began retreating down the aisle, leaving his wondering gaze to follow her as she went.

        She stopped a few paces away, her smirk never fading as she turned, her lips pursing knowingly as her gaze met his intrigued one.

        "I told you you'd win."







𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖆 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖘!
so this was a long
one, wow we love
a change of pace
and thank you for
10k everybody !!








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