WHO: Ernie Macmillan & Celia Brown WHEN: Late afternoon, Wednesday WHERE: St. Mungo’s SUMMARY: Ernie stops by to visit Celia. WARNINGS: Talk of death and injuries and the like, of course.
It hasn't taken much time at all for Ernie to be released to go home - all things considered his injuries weren't too extreme nor were they the kind of thing that required close medical care - it was mostly an issue of resting up, which he could just as easily do at home. But before he went home he made a quick round to friends that were still in the hospital, and his last visit was the one that he'd been dreading the most. Not because he didn't want to check on Celia, but because he didn't know what to say. What did you say to your dead girlfriend's sister, after all?
Hobbling up to her door, he hesitated, then gave a soft knock.
Celia looked up at the knock on the door, her temple throbbing. Had she actually heard a knock or had it been in her head? Sometimes she couldn’t tell the difference, if her head injury was pulsing hard. “Come in?” she ventured in a small voice, keeping her eyes trained on the door. She sat up a bit and folded her hands over her lap. Her parents and older sisters had been by earlier, and she didn’t know who might be visiting now.
Pushing the door open he gave Celia a tight smile. “Hi there,” he said quietly. “Just got released to go home and wanted to check on you.” He hoovered awkwardly by the doorway, not sure if he should stay standing or sit or give her a hug or something else that he hadn't yet considered, so he waited for a cue from her. “Wanted to see how you were.”
When she saw that it was Ernie, Celia brightened momentarily. That is, until something nagged at the back of her mind to remind her that … that the last time she saw him they were … oh. Her face fell briefly before she forced another smile in greeting. “Hullo, Ernie,” she said, reaching up by habit to tuck her hair behind her ears, but her fingers hit bandages instead. “I’m glad you’re going home.”
“Yeah,” he said, catching the brief expression on her face before a smile reappeared. “If you're not up for company I can go,” he said, I don't want to be an imposition.”
She started to shake her head and then remembered that her head hurt, so she just kind of tipped her head to the side. “No, it’s all right. You can come in. I should sleep but I’m not tired. All I’ve been doing is sleeping.” Celia looked at him, a little worried. “Are you all right?” she asked, forgetting momentarily that he had said he was being released. “Right, I mean, you didn’t get too badly injured, did you?”
“I'm fine,” he said, which wasn't particularly accurate but he felt like he didn't have room to complain. “Some broken and dislocated things, nothing permanent. How about you?” he asked, slowly moving towards a chair by her bed so that he could get off his feet for a minute.
Celia fiddled with the blankets with her good hand. “They healed my wrist. Someone said my bone was sticking out but Megan did fixed it?” Was that right? “Have you seen her? I want to say thank you.” She closed her eyes briefly. “And my head hurts. They said I’ll be all right eventually though.” Hopefully she wouldn’t have as much trouble thinking and remembering as she was having now.
“I haven't seen her, but I'll pass on the message,” he offered. A beat passed in an awkward silence, Ernie trying to figure out what to say, and then words started tumbling out. “I'm so sorry, Celia, I should have stayed with her, I could have helped her kill the werewolf, I could have protected her, made sure nothing happened.” His voice caught in his throat and he had to stop for a moment to keep from crying, losing all momentum. “I'm so sorry, Celia, I'm sorry.”
Right, Celia remembered. Lavender. Her sister. The image of seeing her beautiful face mauled and her laying there on the stone floor of the Great Hall. Her throat tightened up and she squeezed her eyes shut. “I could have stayed with her too,” she whispered. “But everything happened so fast and I can’t even remember -” She cut herself off. She couldn’t remember much from the battle, just bits and pieces here and there. It was hard to figure out what happened and what didn’t. “I’m sorry too, Ernie.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Celia, you did great,” he insisted. “It was…” horrible, savage, devastating - Ernie couldn’t find the right word to describe what had happened that night, and his stomach twisted as he thought of everyone they’d lost. “You did great,” he finished.
Again, she almost shook her head before remembering that ached. She pressed her palm to the side of her head, over the bandage. “Is everyone else all right?” she asked hopefully. “Andrew? Parvati?” She had seen Ginny, she thought she remembered. “Michael? Jack?” she added in a whisper.
“Jack’s alive,” Ernie said, starting with who he figured would be most important to her. “I haven’t talked to him, but Lexi passed on the news. Parvati’s pretty banged up but I think they’re still expecting her to make a full recovery. Michael and Andrew are fine. Mallory,” his voice faltered at her roommate’s name - even though he’d hated the HEP with a passion he wouldn’t have wished this on them. “Mallory didn’t make it.” He considered telling her about Felix, Seamus, Sophie, others, but the list was too long and he wasn’t sure he could say those names without crying, and he didn’t want to cry in front of her, so he left it at that.
The half-sob that came out of Celia was one of relief, and she held up her good hand for a moment to let him know she was all right. “Good,” she started to say, relief washing over her about Jack, Parvati, Michael, Andrew … “Oh,” she breathed out. She and Mallory hadn’t seen eye to eye at all over the last year but she’d known her for six. “I - how many people did we lose?” Celia asked it without considering whether she really wanted to know the answer or not.
“I don’t know the exact number,” he said honestly. “But too many. I mean, even one was too many, so way too many.” He looked away, his eyes becoming wetter than he was really comfortable with in front of her, so he blinked quickly and took a deep breath to make sure his voice was steady before continuing. “I’m sure we’ll get better numbers and all the names soon, but right now you just need to focus on getting better, okay? Once we’ve got our strength up, then we can focus on that, okay?”
She opened her mouth to ask him another question but forgot what it was going to be. Instead, she reached out to touch his hand. “Yeah, I just need more sleep and then they said I’ll be fine. Hopefully only another few days. It’s my head they’re worried about. It hurts.” Celia grimaced a little when she tried to smile.
“I’ll let you rest then,” he said, reaching out to give her hand a squeeze. “But if you’re up for company, I can come and visit in a day or two? I’ll try and sneak in some better food, because if yours is anything like mine was you’ll need it. Though feel free to let me know if you’d rather just have some space, we can always talk after you’re out.” He was torn between wanting to see her, make sure she was okay, keep her as a connection to Lavender, and wanting to take some space, hoping that healing would be easier if he did.
“No,” Celia said suddenly, maybe a little desperately. “I mean, no, I don’t want space.” She’d rather see him than her family right now. She felt so guilty that she was here for them and Lavender was - gone. “Please come back and visit me.” Her cheeks turned pinked at her behavior, and she looked down.
“Of course,” he said, nodding, both relieved by and and feeling dread at her reaction. “I’ll come back tomorrow, okay? Bring you some food find something entertaining to talk about, if you want me to, I’ll definitely come, okay?” He stood up and gave her a brighter smile than he felt, hoping to reassure her. “You just get some rest, okay, I’ll see you soon.”