#d

[speakablyundoner-rr]

Xeno’s Home Evening, June 26th, 1984 @lxceandlovegood

Between the long mission day and late mission night, Robyn had barely a handful of hours sleep snatched before having to rush Floo in to the Ministry for work Monday morning. A long, bleary-eyed day spent reviewing research notes over too many cups of tea ended with her crashing into her bed mere minutes after stepping across her home’s hearth, the grate still warm from the lick of the green flames.

Thus Xeno got one day’s reprieve from their promised scolding.

As the clock ticked closer to six pm the next day, they may think they were given a second day’s grace—at least until a crisp triple-rap on the door. Robyn gave them a stern frown as she stepped in, not waiting for an invitation. “We are going to have a thorough discussion of proper activities to undertake while suffering from fractured and broken ribs,” she told him, toeing her shoes off as she glared at him. “At the bottom of the list is ‘carrying other injured people’.” Straightening, she reached into the bag at her side and pulled out a medium size box.

“Mother made egg tarts. I didn’t tell her of your foolishness.” For which he ought to be very grateful for, least he had to deal with Doctor Lynch descending upon him. She would take the injury of her daughter’s best friend as seriously as if it Robyn herself, and Xeno would have found himself whisked away for x-rays, all protests of magical healing falling on deaf ears.

[asphodelroot]

Early Afternoon, June 26th, 1984 Spinner’s End, Cokeworth @wrongdeor​

Evan had looked suspended between blowing up everything in the infirmary,  walking out of the Prewett family home and never returning, or falling over and sleeping for the next year when he’d checked Lily over a couple hours earlier. Lily didn’t need to the story to gather that the previous day had been even more unfortunate and stressful for him than for the rest of them. She made a point to listen to his instructions as closely as her spinning head would let her, nodding where appropriate and thanking him as he discharged her into Severus’s care for the next while with as much official formality as could be managed in their makeshift group of vigilantes.

         —She ought to send him a thank you note, later.

If it wasn’t for that fear of adding more to Evan’s already overfull plate, Lily might have insisted on taking a break in the entry room to try and settle her stomach before stepping into the Floo. (The success of that would have been debatable, with that awful chair the constant sentinel and eternal reminder of the worst of everything sitting there, waiting for the next time it was needed to catch some broken and bleeding body stumbling across the thresh hold.) But the thought of making Evan think he was discharging her before he ought to, no matter her protests that Sev would be perfectly capable of taking care of her, propelled her forward, leaning heavily on Severus’s shoulder as they stepped into the emerald flames together.

...you know, it was worrying that the bland porridge she’d been given for breakfast didn’t look any less appealing on it’s second appearance, splattered across the floor of the Snape family home. “Sorry,” Lily murmured weakly, letting Severus guide her over to the sofa, edging around the mess. Groaning, she curled up, knees drawn to her chest as she turned her head into the cushions, not even attempting to offer to help clean up. She was exhausted in a way she shouldn’t be after sleeping so much, her head was pounding against her skull, and she was mostly sure that Severus’s bookcases shouldn’t be moving like that, but who could tell with them sometimes?

“I’m going to stay here for a while,” she mumbled, the thought of stairs that lay between her and the spare bedroom Severus swore was already hers too much to contemplate.