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kingsleycentricTitle: Recovery Time
Pairing: Kingsley/Severus
Rating: G
Kingsley lay perfectly still in the unfamiliar bed and tried to count how many of his ribs were broken, and how many just bruised. He had no idea what curse had smashed into him in the Department of Mysteries but he vowed to make very sure he never experienced it again. He wondered idly what had happened after the battle. He knew the general outcome, for Tonks had filled him in not long ago, but it was the things she hadn’t said which concerned him more.
Sirius Black was dead.
He tried to get his head around the fact that Sirius had been killed. He’d been unconscious at the time and hadn’t seen his death but had it relayed to him by a breathless Tonks. And now he’d have to go on searching for a man already dead. He wondered what Harry had made of it.
He moved slightly, his back aching. He wondered idly where the mediwitch was and when Tonks was getting back. After the Battle he’d been taken to a disused ward at St. Mungo’s and treated by a witch loyal to Dumbledore. He was by no means fully recovered but he needed to get back to work before his supervisor realised he was even missing. Tonks could only keep him thinking he was out searching for Sirius for so long and the confusion wrought by Voldemort’s return would mean a recall of all Aurors to London.
He dreaded to think what laws Fudge was trying to implement to save his own skin. Kingsley had always believed him to be an idiot, but was dismayed by just how far down the path of stupidity he had wandered.
“Wotcha,” Tonks called out, then remembered she was supposed to be whispering and giggled.
“Stealth training never did catch on with you, did it?” he asked, allowing Tonks to help him sit upright and pretend not to notice his grimace.
“I tried, but you know what Cartwright was like – don’t do that, don’t do this, breath in, breath out, remember this charm, don’t do that one; couldn’t keep it straight if I’d wanted to.”
Kingsley smiled. “We’re ready to go then?”
“Yeah, five mins. Hang on a sec and I’ll make sure the coast is clear.”
As Tonks went out to check for witnesses Kingsley leant down and tried to put on his shoes. He gasped at the familiar stabbing pain in his chest and straightened up once more. He decided that he would just have to use magic, and after a quick “Accio wand” he had managed to manoeuvre his shoes on to his feet.
Tired beyond reckoning he lay back down on the bed, his feet dangling off one end, his head half way down the bed. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on keeping extremely still, in order to stop the dizziness and his desire to throw up. He didn’t think he’d be able to move fast enough if he did have to vomit, so silently prayed that he could control himself.
He tried not to think about all the things he still had to do in the office, the paper work that required forging, the meetings he needed to attend, the people he needed to talk to. There was one person in particular that he was desperately trying not to think about; one person he was both angry with and desperate to see. Why did he have to be so bloody stubborn?
Footsteps echoed across the hospital floor, coming nearer. He tried to summon the energy to get up, sure that it was Tonks returning, but he couldn’t quite manage it. His eyes felt like they were glued shut and he hoped Tonks was planning on levitating him else he didn’t know how he’d get out of there. But as a surprisingly soft finger traced its way down his face he knew that it wasn’t Tonks. He kept his eyes closed, but leaned into the touch and smiled as a tentative kiss was placed on his forehead. Still with his eyes closed he pulled the other person down so that they were sitting on the bed, their fingers tracing patterns down his neck and along his arms. He moaned quietly and finally opened his eyes.
“Start over?” he asked and smiled when he received a nod in return.
Pairing: Kingsley/Severus
Rating: G
Kingsley lay perfectly still in the unfamiliar bed and tried to count how many of his ribs were broken, and how many just bruised. He had no idea what curse had smashed into him in the Department of Mysteries but he vowed to make very sure he never experienced it again. He wondered idly what had happened after the battle. He knew the general outcome, for Tonks had filled him in not long ago, but it was the things she hadn’t said which concerned him more.
Sirius Black was dead.
He tried to get his head around the fact that Sirius had been killed. He’d been unconscious at the time and hadn’t seen his death but had it relayed to him by a breathless Tonks. And now he’d have to go on searching for a man already dead. He wondered what Harry had made of it.
He moved slightly, his back aching. He wondered idly where the mediwitch was and when Tonks was getting back. After the Battle he’d been taken to a disused ward at St. Mungo’s and treated by a witch loyal to Dumbledore. He was by no means fully recovered but he needed to get back to work before his supervisor realised he was even missing. Tonks could only keep him thinking he was out searching for Sirius for so long and the confusion wrought by Voldemort’s return would mean a recall of all Aurors to London.
He dreaded to think what laws Fudge was trying to implement to save his own skin. Kingsley had always believed him to be an idiot, but was dismayed by just how far down the path of stupidity he had wandered.
“Wotcha,” Tonks called out, then remembered she was supposed to be whispering and giggled.
“Stealth training never did catch on with you, did it?” he asked, allowing Tonks to help him sit upright and pretend not to notice his grimace.
“I tried, but you know what Cartwright was like – don’t do that, don’t do this, breath in, breath out, remember this charm, don’t do that one; couldn’t keep it straight if I’d wanted to.”
Kingsley smiled. “We’re ready to go then?”
“Yeah, five mins. Hang on a sec and I’ll make sure the coast is clear.”
As Tonks went out to check for witnesses Kingsley leant down and tried to put on his shoes. He gasped at the familiar stabbing pain in his chest and straightened up once more. He decided that he would just have to use magic, and after a quick “Accio wand” he had managed to manoeuvre his shoes on to his feet.
Tired beyond reckoning he lay back down on the bed, his feet dangling off one end, his head half way down the bed. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on keeping extremely still, in order to stop the dizziness and his desire to throw up. He didn’t think he’d be able to move fast enough if he did have to vomit, so silently prayed that he could control himself.
He tried not to think about all the things he still had to do in the office, the paper work that required forging, the meetings he needed to attend, the people he needed to talk to. There was one person in particular that he was desperately trying not to think about; one person he was both angry with and desperate to see. Why did he have to be so bloody stubborn?
Footsteps echoed across the hospital floor, coming nearer. He tried to summon the energy to get up, sure that it was Tonks returning, but he couldn’t quite manage it. His eyes felt like they were glued shut and he hoped Tonks was planning on levitating him else he didn’t know how he’d get out of there. But as a surprisingly soft finger traced its way down his face he knew that it wasn’t Tonks. He kept his eyes closed, but leaned into the touch and smiled as a tentative kiss was placed on his forehead. Still with his eyes closed he pulled the other person down so that they were sitting on the bed, their fingers tracing patterns down his neck and along his arms. He moaned quietly and finally opened his eyes.
“Start over?” he asked and smiled when he received a nod in return.
