Who: The Blacks (featuring a brief appearance by Madame Pomfrey and an unnamed student whom the intelligent might suppose to be EDGAR BONES!) When: Sunday morning Where: The Hogwarts Infirmary What: A narrative: Cygnus and Druella arrive to take their youngest for care more suitable to a Black.
It was not in the nature of the members of the Black family- most of them, anyway- to arrive anywhere without due fanfare. Even under the present circumstances, this occasion was no exception; Cygnus Black and his wife obviously could not Apparate into Hogwarts, and they considered broom flight best left to the young and uncouth. Besides, if they were to take Andromeda with them- and there was no doubt in either of their minds that this would be the result of their trip- they'd need a way to move their unconscious daughter comfortably and easily. For all of these reasons, they'd chosen to travel today by flying carriage drawn by two Aethonon. Their landing on the front lawn of the school had caused some amount of uproar even among a student population largely worn out by surprise and grief; and that was, if not how they liked it, then at least how the expected it.
Courtesy technically demanded that they meet with the Headmaster upon arriving, but none of the Blacks thought much of the man anyway, and when one's daughter was in hospital in some sort of coma courtesy could be easily and reasonably suspended; and so it was that the pair swept through the school to the Infirmary without waiting to be greeted or invited in. They were impeded only briefly at the door to the hospital ward; after all, students of all stripes and sorts were being permitted to visit, and so parents could hardly be kept out. The boy who ushered them in before dashing off- a seventh year student assisting in the Infirmary in the wake of the sickness- didn't look pleased about the older man's snapped remark that he was here to take his daughter for adequate medical care, but Cygnus did not particularly care what such an inferior peon thought. As for Druella, she was rather too overwrought to notice.
Cygnus allowed himself a brief glance around the room, taking in the visitors (his upper lip curling a bit at the sight of all those he didn't recognize and who perforce must be halfbloods at best, or worse, dirty mudbloods who not only learned but now were treated for illness and admitted to the side of one of his progeny,) and offering a nod to his sister's son, who seemed to have woken up some time recently. Unlike Cygnus's own daughter; a look at the bed next to Regulus's revealed that Andromeda slumbered unnaturally on, if slumber it could be called, as pale as wax and as still as the grave. Druella was already at her bedside, clutching the girl's limp hand- mother and this particular daughter had never been close, the bulk of Druella's affections reserved for her pretty middle child, but Andromeda was still her baby and, as a woman with a sick child, she was permitted the indulgence of her emotions. As for Cygnus himself, he had never spent much thought upon his youngest; she'd made it easy to ignore her during her childhood, and once the mild surprise of her Sorting into Slytherin despite the quiet and bookish nature which hardly became a Black had passed, it was even easier to ignore an absent child. Now, however, as he looked at her pallid form, he felt a pang. No child of his ought to be reduced to this.
His musings were interrupted by the return of the irritatingly upbeat young man who'd let them in, now followed by a somewhat more imposing looking woman who introduced herself as Madame Pomfrey, the Hogwarts nurse and mediwitch in charge of the current scene.
"Mr. Black," she informed him tersely after the introduction, "I assure you, Andromeda is receiving the very best care here. As you can see, several of the afflicted students have already begun to recover. Besides, we cannot be sure that moving her right now won't do her harm. I'd strongly advise against taking her with you now."
Cygnus sniffed. "Miss- Pompeii, was it? Miss Pompeii, while I am sure that your attentions are sufficient for the average witch, my daughter is not such a one. She is a Black, and both entitled to and in need of superior care. Which you are clearly unable to provide, as, whatever has happened with the other students, her condition has not changed." This statement was punctuated by the sound of a quickly-muffled sob from Druella, as dramatic an addition as Cygnus could have wished. If such a thing had been even remotely proper, he might have suggested to his wife a career on the stage. "We will be taking her with us. That is final. Do what you must to ready her to be moved."
"I want every to know I'm against this," the insolent Hogwarts nurse informed the room at large.
"And I could not care less," Cygnus assured her tersely.
Less than an hour later, the winged horses lifted the Black carriage back into the air, their burden made heavier by the weight of one young, unconscious girl.