Charity wasn't quite sure... How to feel? Concerned, enraged, downright fucking scared out of her wits? How did one react in such a situation as this? She'd just received a howler from Mr. Lovegood from St. Mungo's and he and his wife had just been attacked at their own home by the, yes - The 'Dark Army'. That dispicable group of wizarding society's most awful and horrific creatures, at her boss' home. At the place she worked.
They were at St. Mungo's. Attacked. Nora hurt. He hadn't said to what extent. Charity grabbed the nearest quill and wrote on whatever writing materials she could find, which happened to be the back of an old letter. She scribbled her concern and set off her owl straight away. It took her a minute or so to gather herself before she was able to move. A thought struck her. Bertha. Maybe she had heard Xenophilius' voice from her room? There was one way to find out. She didn't knock and she didn't announce her entrance quietly.
"Bertha!"
There really was nothing like a Howler to wake someone up. Bertha had only been asleep for a couple hours when she heard it. Still exhausted and incoherent, she rolled over in bed, her mind merely working it into her dreams. Charity's sudden entrance finished the job. She rolled over again at the noise, and gave a startled cry when she miscalculated and slipped off the bed. If she hadn't been awake before, there was no doubt that she was now. Groaning, she rubbed her head as she worked her way into a sitting position, leaning against her bed.
"Charity?" she asked, squinting in the dark. What time was it? And there hadn't been a day since Charity had moved in that her roommate had burst into her bedroom unannounced. "What is it?"
She started forward to help Bertha, but thought against it. If Xenophilius' suspicions were true, they could be receiving a not so pleasant visit from a few hags and vampires and God knows whatever else. Even if it was a specific target (she was still trying so desperately to work out why) and they only went for the Lovegoods this evening, it was still a hell of a lot better to stay safe than sorry.
"Bertha! Oh God," she started, the hysteria evident in her strained voice already, "The Lovegoods. You know that Dark Army? The wolves and hags and vampires and things. The Lovegoods. They - they attacked them, tonight," Charity began to move her hands about frantically while looking for ways to word things and express herself correctly. "Xenophilius sent me a howler, his wife is hurt but I think they're okay, I don't actually know but I think they're okay. He told me to get out. In case... In case - you know. Just in case. I'm so sorry, Bertha. I'm sorry. I don't -- Do you have anywhere to go? I'm sorry, I never even thought..."
Charity stopped talking while her hands flew to her hair and clung. She exhaled. Her breath was quivering now. She herself was surprised she hadn't burst into tears yet. She never knew how to react in a crisis and this was a prime example. She wanted to do something. See the Lovegoods or go to the Ministry or something, not just flee and hide away until all was safe and then express her concern in the morning.
Somewhere in the midst of her ramblings, Bertha forgot how to breathe, trying to wrap her head around the concept. Charity's employer had been attacked? It wasn't that she doubted the dark army existed... hell, she'd only just talked with Arthur Weasley the other day. She remembered saying how it was ridiculous to think that they would attack her flat. Her mind whirled around and she realized just what her friend was saying. There was a chance they were being targeted, and they had to get out, now, before something happened. And suddenly, the thought of those dark creatures striking in the middle of London didn't seem such an outrageous idea.
"Gods, are you--yeah, I can go crash at my parents' house." Even though Bertha understood that they needed to move now, she couldn't seem to remember how to work her legs and stand up. "You--where are you gonna go?"
Charity quickly shrugged in answer to Bertha's question. That was funny. She hadn't thought about it. Well, first thing's first, she most definitely couldn't go to her parent's house. Perhaps if it had been early evening she would've been able to string together some kind of half-decent excuse and managed to hold off their prying questions, but at one in the morning - a sudden announcement of her staying for a few days? No. If she was being completely honest with herself, she didn't really have any friends that she would put out this much.
"I don't know. The Leaky? I guess. I'll go there for a few days." She was about to add that she couldn't really imagine them attacking such a place as the Leaky Cauldron, but what the hell could she be sure of at this point? She let out a breath she had been holding, before snapping to her senses as if realization itself had come and splashed cold water on her face. "Come on!" She all but dragged Bertha to her feet.
It was easier to move once she was on her feet. Instincts kicked in, and she gathered her wand from her nightstand. "You sure?" She thought about packing a bag, quickly, but she still had a few things back home. And, if worse came to worse, she could always just borrow some clothes from her mother before coming back during the day, when they were less likely to strike. Though, how in hell she was going to explain this to her mother... she'd take care of it in the morning. She could just come up with some excuse for the time being. "I'm sure we'd have room for you," she continued, heading out of her bedroom and to the small fireplace in the front room. She wasn't really sure she could manage to apparate home without splinching herself, and she didn't really want to risk it right now.
She followed Bertha into the general living area and went into her own room to start packing a small bag. Essential things; a change of clothes, toothbrush, and... what else was an essential? When you were in danger of being attacked and possibly killed there really didn't seem like a lot that was essential to anybody. Apart from a wand. She called out from inside.
"I couldn't possibly! I'll be fine, I promise." She wanted to mention that Caradoc would be there, and that he could at least provide her with some something, or a lot of things, alcoholic. The last thing she wanted to seem though, was concerned about her love life - or lack thereof - over staying with a friend. But Bertha had already done so much... Being alone though, it could and might help. She just hoped to God that it wasn't shut. The sooner she got there, the better. Her bag was packed now though, and there was no need to stick around apart from seeing Bertha off.
"I'm ready. Are you?" She held her bag in one hand while her other would not leave the wand in her right pocket.
Bertha waited, bouncing on her heels to keep from pacing, while Charity got her things together. A part of her wanted to be gone, be out, while they knew they still had time. But she couldn't possibly leave without making sure her friend would be safe. She didn't really want to push the subject of where they would be staying. As long as they kept in touch, it would be fine. Her hand was still clasped tightly around her wand when Charity re-emerged. She nodded and bit her lip. "Let me know as soon as you're settled, yeah?" It was a damn shame they couldn't both floo out at the same time. "Be careful," she added softly, throwing her arms around her roommate. Finally letting go, she grabbed a handful of powder and threw it into the fire, disappearing into the green flames.
Charity clung. It was quite the odd feeling; wanting to cling for the longest time but wanting to leave so badly meanwhile. They separated and Charity watched Bertha leave. She was alone and she didn't like it one bit. As quickly as she could, hand still on wand at all times, she threw in some powder herself and was gone in a near instant.