Who: Felixa & Melinda (& unconscious Marek) What: Coping? Eating? Who knows. When: Thursday, June 2nd Where: St. Mungo's Room 403 Warnings: Status: Incomplete
Felixa knew her siblings and herself, her family, hadn't been involved. But there were people who mattered, people she cared about. Oh Fletcher was loud and probably obnoxious to most people at the moment, but he was alive and staying that way. And he was even accepting medical aid. And he had been high on her worry list for being so highly involved in everything - head of DMLE and all.
And Marek? Felixa had known who he was, what he was, whom he was loyal to. But she...she didn't care about that right now or whom he had killed or for exactly what reasons. It mattered that he stay alive and not disappear, not go away to Azkaban, that horrible place. Felixa had never much cared for politics, however anything went. She cared about the people that mattered.
And she had cooked, while not knowing what was going on. It was a veritable feast in a bag expanded with many compartments and food stored and...whatever. Her knife from Marek was smoothly against her person, and Felixa had also brought spare clothes, just in case. Skipping the welcome desk, they were overwhelmed anyway, Felixa found her way to Room 403. Just outside, the witch paused a moment, collecting herself and steeling against whatever she saw - even though Melinda had said, had said...
And she pushed the door, entering in. She saw Melinda, but her eyes went to Marek in his bed, asleep. Felixa bit down on her lower lip as she rushed in.