Seamus Finnigan (irish_pride) wrote in vindicatus, @ 2019-07-26 20:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | pansy, pansy: complete, seamus, seamus: complete |
Who: Seamus Finnigan and Pansy Parkinson
When: July 26th, 2008, sometime around 1am.
Where: St. Mungo's Hospital
What: Seamus discovers Pansy.
Rating/Warnings: Language
Status: Ongoing
Spirits at an even keel, Seamus was flying it as he walked down a hall within the Spell Damage Ward of St. Mungo’s softly whistling a tune he’d heard someone perform in the pub he’d visited the day before. It’d been stuck in his head and it had gotten to the point that he was no longer conscious of himself humming or whistling to it. It was his cycle for the overnight shifts and he’d been making his way through the rooms and patients he’d been assigned to assess throughout it. He didn’t mind the overnights at Mungo’s, many of the other healers had spouses and families to be with so he gladly agreed to be one of the lucky ones to keep watch till dawn’s early light. There was also something else about being awake through the night knowing that most the world was sleeping while others looked on. It actually made him feel like part of a hidden force that keeps the world turning but isn’t thought of much by the others who get up in the morning to attend to their daily routines as if no time had passed. He looked through his schedule, making note of the changes since the night before on rooms that were emptied via patients recovering and going on back out into the world. New rooms were added and he’d been working through them as the night wore on, getting updates from the medi-witches and adding his own observations to the papers. He lifted a hand to the door of the next room on his list, his eyes on the patient’s chart when something out of the ordinary caught his attention. Brow furrowed, he skipped the patient’s basic info and read about addiction withdrawal, hydration schedules, and recovery options. This didn’t belong in the spell damage ward and he tried to figure out what Theodore was doing as he opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit room. A short quick flick of his wand and the tip glowed, illuminating his face and aiding him as he continued reading the chart. Blue eyes stopped and stared at the name on the chart. He was confused and sure he was misreading things. Lifting his wand arm he rubbed his forearm across his eyes then pointed the wand at the name again, sure he was mistaken, but there it was staring back at him. Pansy Parkinson. He knew she was in the country again. He’s seen her hazy journal entry. What the hell was she doing here of all places? His eyes lifted from the parchment to look at the form lying on the bed. It was small as if to hide from the world and he stepped closer, the light of his wand adding a soft glow that made its way over the girl he’d never cared for, then couldn’t stop thinking about, then found himself caring for more than he’d ever cared for another. The glow illuminated a face he’d seen many times. It was one of those rare moments when the shadowed lines of pain retreated from unconsciousness and sleep leaving behind a girl in greater need than she would ever come close to admitting, and the sight of it left his heart in tatters. |