Who: Mary Macdonald and Rodolphus Lestrange When: BACKDATED to October 15 Where: Wales, in a tent. What: Mary wanders off past their safety wards, ends up getting attacked, and Rodolphus DEALS WITH IT
She was running through the forest.
Low hanging branches lashed her, scratched her face, snagged at her clothes. Stones, mulch and sticks crunched under her shoes. Her breath was caught as a painful knot in her throat. Her ponytail had half come undone; a lock of red hair was matted to her sweaty forehead. The sun, bright and clear, shone down upon the path that she was running on, helping her rush past fallen tree trunks and mossy boulders. There were consistent sounds of insects and small animals here and there. And of course, the sound of her running through it all.
Mary Macdonald was running for her life.
When she had set out to do her first solo assignment, paired, as usual, with Rodolphus Lestrange from the Hit Wizards division, she had been nervous but hopeful. A werewolf had killed two people of a muggle family in a small North Wales village, and she was set the assignment of talking to them and Obliviate them as necessary, before Muggle Press intervened. Since the full moon had passed, her fear of being accosted by a werewolf was somewhat assuaged. It was supposed to be a three day endeavour, where she Obliviated the family first and then spent two days researching werewolf activity in the area to ensure no other residents of the village had seen anything suspicious. But still, some fear lingered just underneath the surface, and her hands trembled from time to time as she talked to the family, comforting them and helping them become open with her.
It was on the second day that she wandered away just after dawn from the campsite, having been unable to sleep the past night because of the information she had received from the affected (now Obliviated) family. She had walked away from the tents that were her home in the field and losing track of parameter, had walked out of the circle of protective and concealing charms. And she had encountered the group of Snatchers near a stream where she had stopped to take a drink of water.
There were three of them. She managed to outrun two by firing various hexes and curses at them (they appeared to be Squibs), but one followed her relentlessly, dodging her spells and catcalling.
So she was running. And it was a shout from this man following her that made her look back, and it was then that her foot got caught in an exposed part of the roots of a tree and she fell face forward and hit her head on a rock. Before she could register and manage the sharp pain, get up and resume running, the man was upon her. Grabbing and twisting one of her arms above her head, he pulled her roughly to make her lay on her back, and slammed her wrist on the ground so that she let go of her wand. She wanted to scream, but her voice failed her out of sheer terror, and for the fact that the man was thickset and sitting on top of her. A few slaps followed, splitting her lip and bruising her face, but when he pulled roughly at her shirt and then her trouser belt was when she mustered all of her courage and clawed at the man’s ugly face, shrieking for him to get off her. Why, oh why, did he have to be paired up with a girl who seemed to draw trouble to her something akin to a magnet? Rodolphus had observed Mary as she began to wander off, but he paid little attention to it until he realized she’d wandered past the wards they put up to keep them hidden until their task was complete. Everything had been going fine until now.
Following wasn’t exactly something he wanted to do. She ought to be capable of taking care of herself. This girl, though, from what he knew of her, was extremely naive. Common sense would dictate that wandering off into werewolf territory (even without it being the full moon) was not a very good idea. Unfortunately, either the girl had no common sense or she really was just that naive. At first, he didn’t move. But the thing was, if he came back without it would look bad on his record. Begrudgingly, he got up and started off in the same direction. Slowly, until he heard a twig snap. And then in the distance he saw her running, pursued by a group of men he of course recognized. They were Snatchers, and this particular group had a tendency to be vicious.
Fortunately, Rodolphus had a knack for both tracking and being stealthy. He was able to follow at a safe distance and remain unseen. Mary was clearly terrified, as was evident in how fast she was running. It was not without good reason. He moved a bit quicker, and when he came upon the fallen men she had hexed, he leaned down close to them and told them to leave if they valued their lives. Then, he took off after the man that was still chasing his partner. By the time he got close enough to see, it was evident what the Snatcher intended to do. Rodolphus was a violent man with no real moral conscience to speak of, but he would never rape a woman. It was sickening and vile. Pairing that with a need to show back up at the Ministry with a partner, Rodolphus had no choice but to intervene.
There was no instant attack. He just crept up to them and slowly placed his wand against the man's neck. "Let's keep it in your pants tonight," he said, sneering.
The Snatcher looked up; he knew Rodolphus. Looked puzzled for a minute. "But--"
"Ah, no, you're not allowed to speak. You're fortunate that I'm allowing you to live." He pressed his wand a bit harder into his skin. "Zip up, and go pick your buddies up off the ground." His piercing blue gaze was cold, and though he was speaking with intensity, there was nothing but stoicism on his face. "Go. Before I change my mind."
Before the Snatcher could choose one way or the other, however, Mary (at her nerves’ end), mustered up all of her strength and moved all of her limbs to push the man off of her. It wouldn’t have cleanly thrown him off of her, and it didn’t, but at least she was able to add weight to her partner’s words. Even if she wasn’t able to breathe normally, even if her sore and bruised legs kicked up dirt, even if her scream was caught terribly somewhere inside of her, even if tears of humiliation and frustration filled her eyes and clouded her vision, she put both of her dirty hands on the man’s chest and kept pushing him back till he did fall back, landing awkwardly on her lower legs.
She didn’t wait for more of a chance. Frenzied and shaking, she rolled to her side. She relied on Rodolphus’ presence and ignoring the sharp pain pulsating through whole of her body, she crawled to look for her wand.
The gravity of what the man wanted to do had long sunk in; she was terribly afraid to have come that close to being the prey, and then again she was also full of a sort of loathing for the man she had hardly ever felt before for anyone in her life.
Repulsed by the man's lack of dignity, Rodolphus felt no shame for his actions. He would likely have to explain himself, perhaps, to the Dark Lord Himself, but he did not fear it. It was easily explainable. He had to uphold his double life, after all. It would be simple enough to explain such a thing; and that was the truth. There was nothing underlying, other than the fact that he did not condone raping women. Even someone like him had a line he never crossed.
He said nothing as he watched the Snatcher scurry off. It was pathetic, really. He hadn't even tried to fight back. Rodolphus was a highly ranked Death Eater, but surely the man ought to have had some fight in him. Oh well. It mattered very little, except that he would likely tell the Dark Lord how little his Snatchers were committed to their cause. Once he was gone, Rodolphus looked down at her. "Can you stand?" He asked, so he knew whether or not he needed to carry her.
“I can’t...I can’t find my wand,” she responded hoarsely, in a tone that hardly made her words sound like a proper answer. She was still crawling on the ground with her back towards him. Of all the things she had imagined that could possibly happen to her on her first assignment, this was the last scenario she had thought of. The contentment that came from a successfully executed Obliviation was now all exorcised out of her.
With her shirt buttons all gone and her entire body hurting from the struggle, she moved only to recover her wand, something which she could still do successfully, she thought, and to clutch her torn shirt together. And even that movement drew a whimper of pain out of her. The adrenalin was wearing out; the struggle had left her. Her body was going back to normal, and normal right now meant beaten, bruised and hurt. She was quite sure she had cracked some ribs, and her swollen lips were still bleeding. The very thought of having come this close to being raped, and possibly murdered, added to her disposition till she had tears stinging her eyes again.
“Do you see it? I can’t...find it. I can’t go back...without it...do you see it?”
“Stay still,” he said quietly. It was apparent that she was much more worse for wear than he initially assessed. She just needed to sit still. Rodolphus started looking around on the ground, squinting to try to make out the shape of her wand. Unable to see it right away, he drew out his own wand. “Accio, wand,” he commanded, and cast the summoning spell. It flew to him after a few seconds and he caught it in his free hand. “There.” He leaned down and handed it to her. At least it hadn’t snapped.
He had already asked her if she could stand, and though he’d witnessed her crawling around, he didn’t think it would be too smart for her to walk since they did not know the extent of her injuries yet. A little annoyed that he had to step in, Rodolphus slowly pulled his coat off and draped it down around her shoulders. Carefully, he picked her up into his arms; he tried not to jostle her around too much as he began to walk back with her.
“What were you doing, leaving the tent, anyway?” He said, with a bit of a bite to his tone. If she had just stayed inside, this wouldn’t have happened.
“...was jus’ going to see if there were any deer.”
Being anywhere near Rodolphus Lestrange was a challenge enough under normal circumstances, and now, being carried by him, wrapped up in his coat with the entirety of her form in a mess was unnerving. His purist affiliations were whispered about within the Ministry; Mary had heard the rumors. But she was exhausted from the fight she had had to put up, and embarrassed about her state. The Head of her Department was a known sexist and hardly treated any of the women in the Department with any real respect. Mary had fought long and hard to please him and to come up to his standards to earn her solo assignments, and now she had ended up beaten and bruised just because she thought it would be interesting to spot any deer in the wild while she tried to gather her thoughts.
She didn’t want this to become another reason for her superior to limit field ops for other female Obliviators, and so, with her wand pocketed and both her arms around Rodolphus’ neck for support, she pursed her lips to try and stop the tears from flowing. She was sure she had fractured some ribs, and despite the professional care he was showing in handling her, they still hurt badly.
It was a long walk back and the realization dawned upon her about how far she had run and how fast to trigger fear in her heart again. She cast a glance around them as they entered the wards and moved towards the innocuous looking tent they had set up a day before. And then she looked up at him, knowing her left eye was starting to swell up and that she was unable to enunciate her words properly because her lower lip was split.
“Why di’ you le’ ‘im go? Shoul’ have arres’ed ‘im.”
Rodolphus rolled his eyes. Deer? Deer? She’d risked her neck, and wound up nearly being raped all for the hope that she might see any deer? He began to wonder how she managed to pass any sort of psyche evaluations pertaining to her job. Who thought that way? Who in their right mind would do such a thing? And why had he been paired up with someone that incapable of rational thought? Had he been someone of more moral character, he might have found it refreshing to be around someone who possessed such a gentle outlook on life. As it was, he was just annoyed.
Her question was one he should have anticipated, and did before she asked. “Would you really want your superior to know you were beaten and nearly raped because you wandered past your designated safety perimeters on your first solo mission?” He asked. They could patch her up pretty well, and cover the bruising with beautification charms to keep it from being too noticeable. “I can chase him down and kill him, if you’d like,” he said, though he would have preferred not to. That would have been a little more difficult to explain to the Dark Lord, and he was already likely going to face some sort of interrogation about what he’d done. That is, if the Snatcher had the balls to actually say anything. Part of him felt that he wouldn’t, out of embarrassment.
With great care, he set her down on her cot, then moved to find their first aid supplies. Most of it was going to be cold compresses and cleaning her up a bit. “Here,” he said, and pulled out a small vile. “This should numb most of the physical pain.” A simple pain potion, but it was a start. “Drink it. It tastes horrible, I’m afraid.” He held it out to her.
“...was thinkin’” she responded, swaying slightly after he sat her down. She had traced the annoyance in his voice and felt snubbed on top of embarrassed. Comeptence was what she wanted to be associated with her name in her employee file, not fanciful, which is what she was sure Rodolphus thought she was right now.
But it wasn’t her fault that she had thought about calming herself before the day’s work began. It wasn’t her fault that she wanted to approach possible leads with a clear head. And it certainly wasn’t her fault that there were horrible people in the world, who did disgusting things to innocent and unsuspecting people. If anything, Rodolphus’ accusatory glance and tone dragged her from being terrified and sad and terribly thankful to him to just plain angry. If it didn’t hurt to frown, she would be openly frowning by now.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, because she felt like she needed to say it, even if he didn’t want to hear it. Next, she took the pain potion from him, fully aware of its taste and composition, and drank it down, ending the quick gulp with a small yuck.
“...you don’ have to kill ‘im. And --” if she reported the incident, she would be demoted or assigned paperwork. If she didn’t, no one will know, except if Rodolphus told anyone. She didn’t want to be selfish and withhold information, but at the same time, she did not want to be told she was no longer required to do what she loved doing.
Rodolphus had no intention of telling anyone about the incident. It very well could come back to bite him in the arse if anyone found out. He wanted to avoid the lectures about maintaining his partner's safety and working together as a team. The less people who knew about the incident, the better. He hoped that he had driven that point home, but there was no telling what she would do. He thought about requesting a transfer, but that would look bad on both of their parts. 'Personality conflicts' wouldn't fly for a reasonable transfer, and he would be told to get over himself and work harder to make her better in the field. Regardless of the fact that he was Rodolphus Lestrange, he was still a subordinate to his boss -- which just made his skin crawl.
He paused when she thanked him and looked up from what he was doing. His gaze flickered to where she was sitting. "You're welcome." If she had said she wanted him to run off and kill the Snatchers, he would have complied. Though he was glad she hadn't, he couldn't have blamed her for wanting them dead. Had she been someone he was more devoted to in some way, he probably would have killed the men and dealt with the consequences. But things were as they were, and she was alive, anyway. He brought some of the supplies over to where she was sitting and sat down next to her. "Will you consent to me treating you?" He had to ask. It was protocol.
She was almost in a shocked trance when she was startled by his question. The disgusting potion he had made her drink had numbed most of the physical pain, but as he sat down next to her, a tear slid down her cheek as she nodded in consent.
What she had learned from the affected muggle family, the exchange she had had with Sturgis, the fact that she almost lost her dignity and life -- everything rushed back to her and she bowed her head so that he couldn’t see the quiet tears.
He nodded as well when she gave her consent. There wasn't much he could do, as it seemed most of the damage was internal. He wasn't going to attempt to set her ribs; they would have to heal on their own or she could have someone do it for her when they returned (though she would need to create an alibi of sorts). For now, if she continued to take the pain potion and stayed still she should be fine. Rodolphus could only assume about what was bothering her. He figured it was the fact that she was almost raped, and nothing more. He cared little to find out, because it didn't concern him. As long as she kept her head clear and didn't wander off again, that was really all he cared about for the time being.
"Look at me," he said. His tone was not harsh, but it was not entirely friendly either. Clinical, to the point. He took her chin between his fingers and lifted her head so he could look at her face properly. She was crying, evidently, as he could see where the streaks of tears had made lines down her face over the dirt. He made no mention of it. With his free hand, he lifted a sterile piece of gauze he'd dipped in a healing salve and dabbed at her split lip with it. "This will help the bruises you might have heal faster too," he said. "But I'm not going to go looking for those unless you think yourself incapable of doing so."
“I don’...care,” she said, quickly running a hand to clear her eyes. It only ended up streaking her face with more dirt, but she was least concerned with it. She was supposed to be seeing Sturgis in one day, to discuss what he had mentioned so carelessly over the journals, and the last thing she wanted was for him to see him this way. However, she wasn’t entirely comfortable with taking off her shirt so soon after being assaulted. If anything, she didn’t even feel like she’d want to take off anything for the bath she was in urgent need of.
So she quietly shrugged off his coat and looked at her arms, then presented them to him.
“Please...take care of ‘em?”
He had hoped she would take care of the rest herself. It wasn't that he had a problem touching women (Merlin knew he'd put his hands on many in the heat of passion over the years). He was just used to a very different sort of touch, and he was not sure he had the patience to be comforting or gentle with her. The girl was in a very fragile state, emotionally and physically, and he did not want to traumatize her further. She would be of no use to him then, and he wasn't in the mood to continue playing babysitter.
Rodolphus watched as she shrugged out of his coat, and nodded slowly. He couldn've told her to help herself, but he didn't want her to cause further injury to her body. So, he found some more gauze and put a bit more salve on it. There were bruises on her arms, likely from where the Snatcher had held her down. He'd start there. Carefully, he took her left arm in one hand, and started to work the magical salve into her skin. His eyes remained on the wound, so that he could focus.
“I’ll ‘ake a bath,” she said softly, almost whispering. For someone who was usually so brisk and impatient, she was thankful for the focused calm he was showing. The salve dissolved, colourless and odourless, neatly worked into her skin by his deft strokes. She kept her lips pursed and then, finding nothing else to do, she first tossed off one of her boots and then the other.
“They ‘ere sending Ai’an for this one, you know,” she started again, troubled by the silence that magnified each snap and crack from the wood outside, grating on her nerves. “I fough’ for it. I’m goo’ at wha’ I do. I know you don’ think tha’ way, bu’ I am. I ace’ all of my evalua’ions an’ my promotion was recommen’ed by Ma’am Bones and Mis’er Crouch himself.”
Rodolphus' concerns weren't with her work. It was how she handled herself when she wasn't working. The wandering, the innocent way she regarded just about everything. Though to her credit, she was handling this whole situation fairly well. Not just anyone could take being nearly raped and beaten up, without completely falling to pieces. She was fragile, yes, but she wasn't a basket case. She was capable of rational thought, which was also a good sign. He wasn't about to verbalize the credit he internally gave her, though. It was best if she kept on thinking he felt her to be entirely incompetent. She wouldn't get complacent that way.
He tossed the used gauze into a trash compartment and leaned back. "I don't need an explanation," he said, and shrugged his shoulders. "You were given the position for a reason." And he'd rather be stuck in a tent with a pretty girl than Aidan Podmore any day. "We're assigned to work together, and that's that. I'd just appreciate some notice before you wander off next time."
“I won’,” she responded, almost too softly for the words to be fully comprehensible.
She had made a grave mistake and she knew it, but her mind also battled that miserable notion with the stubborn chant of no one deserves to be hurt in this manner. It was only this contrast in her physical state and her resolve that held her together for any conversation at all, and so she presented her other arm to him.
While he was putting the salve on, she kept quite for a while, and used to silence to try and justify to herself that letting the Snatcher go was for the best. But even as she remembered his face, and the way he had hurt her, she couldn’t help but feel terrible for allowing the man to be free. He could hurt others, and her career wasn’t worth that sort of guilt.
“I think,” she began quietly, “I...think we shoul’ find the Snatcher and arrest ‘im.”
What she wanted to say next needed a pause and a deep breath.
“I can...I can Obliviate ‘im. The part where he...where he was abou’ to...you know. I can isolate and remove tha’ memory but he’ll remember every’hin’ else. We shoul’ do ‘hat.”
He continued to work diligently, treating each bruise he saw. The marks would fade faster this way, perhaps even by the time they got back to the Ministry. That would be favorable, but there were always charms to hide any marks and long sleeves. Her lip ought to heal by then, too. Rodolphus wasn’t about to do an exploratory search of her body. It was strange; he had never had any trouble touching a woman before, but given the circumstances, he just didn’t feel right about it without her doing it first and then consenting to letting him. It was a foreign feeling. As the attention turned back to the Snatchers, he tensed a little.
“I’ll take care of it. You should not go near those men again if you can help it,” he said. “Don’t waste your thoughts or emotions on the likes of them. I’ll see to it that they’re handled.”
“T’ank you,” she barely managed to utter the words before a hiss of pain escaped her lips. As precise and cautious as Rodolphus was being, and as comforting as the pain potion had been, there were still some parts of her body that ached when she tried any sudden movement. And she had. She had tried to stand after the last bruise had been tended to by the Hit Wizard.
Trying to calm herself, she considered for a moment if she should ask him to check on her ribs. But the very thought of allowing him that much nearness at this point made her blood run faster in her veins. That worst had been averted; she knew and understood this. But she still shivered uncontrollably when the pressure of Rodolphus’ hands grew deeper, and by the end, she just crossed her arms tightly across her chest and sat, hunched up and attempting to appear insignificant.
“If you can jus’ draw a bath...that would...I mean, I nee’ to ge’ clean.”
The original thought - I need to get out of these clothes - was left unsaid.
Rodolphus had never really been one for comforting others. He just did not know how. It wasn’t something that was programmed into his behavior, nor was it instinctive. Someone else might have tried to reassure her, to tell her that everything was going to be all right and that they would be there for her. Thoughts like that simply did not occur to him. In his mind, he could not guarantee that everything would be okay, and other than being her partner, it was not his place to offer himself to be of anything to her except that.
When she asked him to draw her bath, he shrugged and nodded. Cleaning herself up was probably a good idea. Enough time had passed that even if the salve washed off, it would have served its purpose. The hot, soapy water would clean out any other wounds she had and ease her muscles. She needed to get back into working condition, so if this helped her he wasn’t going to say no. Still, it was weird for him to be doing something for someone else. It wasn’t a skill he liberally practiced.
“Just sit still until I come back.” He got up, then, and moved over to where they had designated a washroom in the tent. He filled the tub, and made sure it was charmed so that the water stayed at the same temperature. When he walked back, he looked down at her. “I’m going to need to help you into the room, at least.”
She did as she was told. For her, it was enough comfort that she had someone with her that she could at least trust not to harm her. Whatever effort Rodolphus Lestrange made now was immediately accepted as a kindness done to her twice over, even if it was basic professionalism that he was showing. In the absolute absence of someone she could simply hide behind, somebody like Kingsley or Sirius or Sturgis (she wondered if that was even possibly after the exchange they had had over the journals), Rodolphus, although a stranger, was turning out to be a somewhat adequate replacement. At the same time, she knew full well that he was her colleague, and if he reported her to her superiors, she would be in a world of trouble, so she busied herself with at least limiting her emotions for now.
No more tears, she told herself.
His statement shocked her out of her reverie and she flinched at the sound of his voice, but that nervous reaction soon passed. Her legs felt like they were filled with lead. He was right. She did need her help, and in that moment, she wasn’t too proud to accept it. Merely for the sake of practicality, she nodded, straightened her back, and held out both her hands as she prepared herself to walk the distance.
Rodolphus did not see his efforts as an act of kindness; it was just something that had to be done. He would have carried her closer to the tub, but he was afraid if he did he might do more damage to her ribs trying to cradle her. He’d done it when he was taking her back to the tent, but back then he had no choice. In this instance, walking her there might be better for her back. Of course, there was the option of a levitation spell to just ‘float’ her over but he thought that might be a bit much.
He bypassed her hands and leaned down to take hold of her waist, to keep her back straight and help her up to her feet. Once he steadied her, he turned to be at her side and placed his arm around her waist and back to continue to keep her upright. “I want you to set the pace,” he said. He did not want to take too long of a stride and cause her to strain herself even more.
Finding no other use for her hands at that moment, she set down an arm around his shoulders for support and curled up the other close to her body. It felt awkward and strange to formulate a strategy to walk, as if she had reversed to her clumsy childhood again, but she overcame that distraction by taking the first step; small, slow and calculated.
It only hurt when she tried to balance her weight completely on her legs.
“Is i’ okay if I lean on you?” A useless question, all things considered. She was even standing because he had lent so much support to her. She fell silent for a few seconds and them placed her free hand on his arm, then took another step, more assured of what she was doing by relying on more of his strength.
He gave a slight nod when she asked if she could lean on him. It was assumed that she would anyway, given how unsteady she was on her feet to begin with. Rodolphus didn’t mind. She was light, and easy to support. He was slow to move, and waited for her to take the first step before he joined her. When the second one came, he matched her short stride and kept her upright. It was a little awkward at first, but eventually they began to make some progress toward the tub.
“Do you think you can undress yourself?” He asked, as they walked. He would do it if she needed him to, but for her dignity’s sake he thought he should ask. Rodolphus wouldn’t have considered it to be anything other than a simple procedure to help her get into the bath, but given the fact that she had just nearly been raped, he wasn’t sure a man taking off her clothes would exactly be the best thing for her psyche.
And he was correct to be uncertain about her response to his question. As much as she wanted to clean away the dirt, grime and small amount of blood she new had come out of her broken skin, she still didn’t actively feel like she wanted to take her clothes off. Stopping next to the bath, she contemplated the query for a few moments, once again struggling to keep her emotions in check, and then slowly shook her head.
“I can do i’ myself,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can. Can you --” she hesitated and then looked up at him, “-- please ge’ me some clean clo’hes from my bag?”
Rodolphus wasn’t entirely sure she could get undressed on her own, but he figured he would take her word for it. He raised an eyebrow when she asked him to find her some new clothing. That was.. a little personal, wasn’t it? He normally wouldn’t have had any trouble going through someone else’s things, but Mary was just different. He couldn’t really explain why, nor did he really want to. It was just how it was. In any case, he let go of her and nodded. It wasn’t a big deal.
He’d seen his fair share of ladies undergarments before, but these were Mary’s and for the sake of needing to maintain a professional working relationship with her, he did not examine them closely. He just grabbed what he figured she would need, and something that looked and felt warm for her to sleep in. Rodolphus didn’t know if it matched, and figured it probably didn’t matter. He set the selected items down on a chair by the tub, then turned to face her. Had the circumstances been a little different, he would’ve taken his time and probably teased her about her underthings.
And she would’ve responded with flushed dismissal. But now was not the time. She felt drained and was very definitely still in shock, although she was getting better at hiding it with each passing minute. The thought that her request granted him permission to rifle through her undergarments didn’t even occur to her, because for the time being, she spent all effort to wrestle with the buttons on her shirt. When frustration boiled over, she realized she was hardly even trying to take anything off. No matter, instead of lingering upon the finer details of why, she just took off the coat Rodolphus had afforded her and hung it on the back of the chair near the tub. Then, taking her shoes off, she shakily stepped into the hot bath and settled down in the water, fully clothed. For good measure, she next closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath and buried her face into the water. The warm water lapped up against her skin and felt like a soothing balm for her strained muscles.
She only surfaced when she heard Rodolphus return. Running a hand down her face to do away with the rivulets of water running down her face from her hair, she nodded in gratitude to him.
“I’ll jus’ be --” she began, stoically, this time, even if her voice shook ever so slightly, “-- I’ll be fine. I’ll be out soon.”
He didn’t know if she would be fine, and he wouldn’t assume one way or another. Time would tell, but he hoped she could pull herself together enough for them to finish up this mission and then go home. If she fell apart after they got back, fine (though admittedly, he still did not want her to even mention what happened). He just did not want to have to wind up in the same position all over again. He was already going to have a difficult time explaining the deaths of the Snatchers to the Dark Lord after he killed them, which was what he meant when he said he would ‘take care of it.’
Rodolphus nodded. “Take your time,” he said. “Don’t try to go back to bed without my assistance,” he said. Hopefully she would spend a considerable amount of time in there, since the water would not be cooling off. He needed the time. He nodded to her, then turned and walked out of the wash room. He had to walk all the way out to he perimeter of their wards, and slip through them. Having an anti-apparating ward was both a blessing and a pain. Once he was on the other side, he wasted no time. In the blink of an eye, there was the sound of a i CRACK, and he was gone.