Me after You | Charlie Weasley COMPLETED HARRY POTTER

Chapter Eight ✔

"Rory, I am so sorry." Brinley Tate whispered as she crouched infront of one of her oldest friends, the light shining brightly on her salmon colored scrubs. Brinley was an intern Healer. An excellent one, but now, she doubted herself. She couldn't save one of her dearest friends."Rory...there isn't anything we can do."

Rory cried into her knees, hot fresh tears rolling down and splattering on her baby blue hospital gown.
The last person she had. Gone.

"Rory, you can see him. Anytime you want." Brinley said softly. Squeezing her friends shoulder softly. It was the only place that wasn't bruised beyond belief. "He can't talk. Or respond. But he is still there."

She didnt want to think about it. She didn't want to think about anything. She wanted to forget the hands on her, hurting her and scaring her. She wanted to forget the out come.

So she stood up, and walked painfully back to her room.

Rory hesitated. For what seemed the millionth time today, she felt as if someone had cast a spell to turn her feet to stone. Around her, the sound of the hospital bustled, life vibrant as nurses and doctors hurried up and down the corridors.

Upon returning to the Leaky Cauldron at only 10 A.M, the brunette quickly snuck away and back into the streets. She needed to see her father. And she didn't need Charlie knowing.

She couldn't handle the pity eyes.

With a deep breath and a shake of her head, as if she was going to shake away all the bad feelings, she walked up to the nurses station in Ward 7.

The psych ward.

Sitting behind the slightly cluttered station was a perky blonde witch in peach colored scrubs. She looked like she had a little to much coffee, and smile wide eyed at Rory.

"Hello, how can I help you?" She cocked her head, causing her blonde pony tail to swing vigorously behind her. Rory wanted to gag at her optimisim. It seemed to cheerful and out of place here.

"Is Brinley Tate working today?"

Suddenly there was a tap on her shoulder, and Rory turned around, just to have a pair of light bronze arms wrapped around her, and she was quickly wrapped in an embrace that smelled spicy, like herbs and dried ingredients.

Brinley stood back, her hands still on her friends shoulders and her silky raven hair tucked behind her ears. "Rory, did you get my letter?"

"Yes."
"Well?" Rory shrugged and Brinley dropped her hands onto her hips. She sighs tiredly, and it ends with a smile. "You didn't read it, did you?"

"Sorry Brin, I just..." she huffed then in exasperation, and reached up to rub her temples. Brinley reached up and rubbed her friends back slowly. There wasn't much anyone could do in a situation like this.

So, the raven haired girl placed her arm over her shoulder and veered her to their destination. "Don't worry about it, I figured you'd be showing up. So, Daddy bought a quidditch team." She said disinterestedly. As if she everyone's Daddy's bought whole quidditch teams. Rory appreciated her friend temporarily changing the subject, she needed the distraction.

Rory raised her eye brow as her friend, but was greatful for the distracrtion as her friend led her down the hall.

"Don't give me that look. Daddy bought a quidditch team, and is offering me the position as Head Mediwitch."

Now Rory really raises her eyebrows, hiding a small smile. "Seriously? You a Mediwitch? Do you even know what quidditch is?"

"Of course I know what quidditch is, Rory Collins!" Brinley scoffed in fake offense. "It's a good step forward. A year or so as Head Mediwitch and I'm basically promised Chief of Healers."

"What team is it?"

"Puddle something or other." She rolled her eyes, and then the playful expression that was on her face faded, and the pair paused outside of room 139.

Rory wanted to shrink into herself at the sight of the door. Wanted to run for it and never come into this place again. But she couldnt. She felt a soft hand squeeze her own, and she glanced tearfully at her friend.

Her friend that was always so steady and so sure of herself.

She wanted to feel that way. She reached up slowly, pulling off her necklace and handing it to her friend, along with her wand. Nothing was allowed that the patient could harm theirselves with.

"I'll be right here, Ror." Brinley leaned forward and placed a peck on her friends temple, then with a flick of her wand, unlocked the door. It swung open slowly, and Rory shakily walked in.

The room was bare, white tiled floors and bare white walls. There was nothing in the room but a small cot, a white sheet, and a wizard laying upon the cot dazed.

Gregory Collins was once a strong and sturdy man with caramel colored hair and stormy grey eyes. He wasn't tall, but he looked like he could bench press a house.

Now, he was thin and wiry, looking more like a skeleton than a Gregory Collins should look.

He didn't greet Rory with a laugh and a hug. He didn't greet her with a clap on the back and a smart joke about whatever her stepmother was attempting to cook for dinner.

Gregory Collins gazed unblinking at the ceiling, mouth slightly agap.

Rory walked in slowly, and suddenly a metal chair appeared adjacent to the bed. She nervously sat down, fiddling with the hem of dress.

Her father stared dazed at the ceiling.

"Hey, Dad." She mumbled as she gazed at him.

He obviously said nothing in response.

"Romania's going good. The guy I'm working with...he's not so bad. And it's beautiful there. I wish you could see it. And Henry."

She leaned forward now, resting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. Her heart tugged and her throat felt dry.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I let you down. I'm sorry I gave them away. I'm sorry I'm not stronger. I should have died before I gave them away." Now she was sobbing, her chest shaking as the tears slid down her face, her vulnerabilities bare for everyone to see. "I killed them."

And she just sat there, curled up in herself until the tears dried up and her chest heaved as she took deep breaths. Eventually, she stood up exited the room, where Brinley sat on the floor, scribbling on her paperwork. A pair of plastic frames now sat upon her nose. She glanced up at Rory, and patted next to her on the floor.

Rory sat gingerly, taking her want and balling the locket in her hand. She leaned her head against her friends shoulder, breathing in the scent of a healer that clung to her skin.

"It wasn't your fault." Brinley said softly, not even looking up from her papers. "Henry died because those people were evil. If you can even call them that. Those people killed Judith. Those people tortured you and your father for days. Just so that could kill a child and his muggle mother."

Rory squeezed her tired eyes shut, wanting nothing more than to sleep.

"Rory?" Brinley said softly again.

Then, with a shake of her head, she stood up. "I have to go." She started to head down the hall, but hesitated, turning back and giving her friend a small, weak smile. "Thank you. Again. For always being here."

"Goodbye, Ror. Stay safe."

Rory still hesitated, the necklace still clenched in her hand. "Brin?"

"Yes?"

"Please...tell me...as soon as it happens."

Brinley nodded gravely. "Of course."

And then, Rory was gone.