From Eden - Regulus Black (Complete)

Chapter Ninety-Nine

THE CUP

Dumbledore nodded in approval at the big, white dressing around Moody's head, covering the hole he now had on his eye. He could smell the healing paste with lavender-oil added later that Anne put to keep him sleeping and to calm him down.

"You did a good job," he commented.

Madame Pomfrey glared at Dumbledore, wanting him to get out of her light as she worked on lifting the dressing and peeking under it, but she had to admit that Anne had, indeed, done a good job.

"This paste?" Madame asked.

"I made it. Used it on myself before, so I knew it was safe," Anne said. "They said he was able to speak and was quite conscious before passing out, he was aware of his surroundings, I mean. Is there any way to see if there's brain damage before he wakes up? I did my best to be gentle while taking it out and everybody helped to keep him still, but I fear he might have moved his head a bit."

"No, my dear," Pomfrey said. "We need him awake to make tests."

"I see," Anne said, nodding.

"But you did a great job," she insisted back when Anne seemed to look a bit disappointed. "I don't think I would've done it any better, especially at your age. Now, all he needs is to wake up and then we can continue healing him."

Anne blinked.

"We?"

"We," Madame Pomfrey said, nodding.

Dumbledore looked at the quite younger woman on her knees beside him, taking care of a man she hated with great worry. Usually, he would've insisted that she needed to ask for permission before offering something almost as food as internship (though informal), but there was no one in his mind that would deal with the pressure and the wounds that a war would bring other than Anne. He even wondered if she had any training from before – that dressing was quite good; and then he remembered the way she flinched away from him when he tried taking care of her wound on his office in the day she got there. Of course, she had training... she trained on herself.

Lily Evans offered to stay on the parlour with Moody while the meeting was happening on the dining room. She wasn't officially part of the Order, much to James' dismay, so she needed to be away from some information, though everybody knew she would find it out at one point or the other.

James brought the shirt he had on his hands to Frank, who was quick to get rid of the bloody shirt by throwing it on her fire and, shirtless and shaking, sniffling from crying before putting on the white t-shirt.

"Now, we're just waiting on the Potters and Remus Lupin," Dumbledore said. "They are slightly late."

"By three minutes," Anne grumbled, looking away from Moody and up at Dumbledore, finally glaring at him. Dumbledore almost felt relieved that this part of the girl was still there. "They'll be here and -- Sirius, stop pacing around the room."

"I can't help it."

"I'll help you by tying you down on a chair, boy," grumbled a hoarse voice. "My head hurts and your footsteps echo."

Everybody looked down once more.

Alastor Moody had his one left eye open only by a slit, almost as if trying to glare at Anne, who was standing right above his vision-area, but it didn't have the effect he had expected. He knew the girl didn't like him, so he didn't expect a relieved sigh and the brightest smile he had seen her wearing. His head was pounding in pain and he felt like he would pass out once more if he as much as tried to move a finger from the comfortable sofa he was lying in – expensive, he thought for a moment, and he was ruining it by tainting it with blood.