Healing takes long

Bubbly.

Bea felt bubbly, everything was surreal and it was like she wasn't really there. But she knew she was because she felt bubbly. If that makes any sense. She just wanted to lie down and sleep, which is what she was trying to do. However, someone kept holding her in an upright position and didn't let her sleep, which was just mean. And rude. She tried to tell the person that it's okay, it doesn't even really matter where she sleeps and oh, look. The person is blond as well and she is also blond. That was such a nice thing to know.

Finally, after what felt like a week walking around, the blond person let Bea lie down and she was out instantly.


Her head hurt. And her ankle. Actually, every inch of her body hurt. It was so not nice.

Bea groaned and tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt so heavy. After a minute or so, she made herself open her eyes and look around. Nothing around her was familiar and she had no idea how she got here.

Where the balloon was she?

"Maman?" Louis called as he struggled to get Bea through the door and into the cottage. She wasn't being very helpful - he thought it was whatever the healer had given her, but he couldn't be too sure - and Louis was trying to navigate all of their limbs through the house, something that was proving quite difficult due to his clumsiness. "Maman, m'aide!"

Fleur, his mother, helped him to get her in, Louis using the old (and very mediocre) strength he had gained from beating for Quidditch to lift Bea as gracefully as he could and lay her on his bed, exchanging mutters with his mother in French. Bea herself looked pretty out of it as his mother began to flutter around, busying herself with making the room comfortable in order to help Bea whilst still managing to get in the occasional comment about how Louis needed to tidy his room and sort through his stuff.

Pulling up a chair, Louis decided to wait with her, crossing his legs and tapping the sides. It would be a long evening, but Bea was his mate, and he wanted to make sure she was okay.


Louis awoke with a start when he heard a noise coming from somewhere nearby, having a momentary freak out when he realised he was not in his room, though this subsided when the familiar scene of his living room faded into his vision, along with the memories of the previous night. He had no recollection of getting to this position on the sofa, a blanket covering his legs. Maybe his Dad had helped to get him out here after he'd fallen asleep in the chair by where Bea was sleeping.

Bea.

Blinking blearily, Louis rose to his feet, stumbling along the landing to his room and opening the door. As soon as he had completed the action, he realised he probably should have knocked, and did so hastily in hindsight. "Hey," he said softly. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

Slowly, Bea sat up, trying not to panic. She didn't know where she was and everything was sort of blurry. Breathing deeply, she tried to remember what had happened. She remembered the attack and then someone found her and took her to St. Mungo's. Louis! It was Louis. So, the logical explanation of her whereabouts was Louis' home or at least somewhere safe. Bea relaxed and rested her head against the wall, closing her eyes.

Her head was heavy and was ringing with a dull beat. Even though she knew she was safe, she was still panicking a little and she wasn't completely sure why.

Bea heard the door open suddenly and she opened her eyes, startled. Her hand jumped to where she usually kept her wand, but A) she was wrapped in blankets and B), she didn't have her wand. Thankfully, it was Louis at the door and she didn't need her wand. However, that realization made her so incredibly sad.

"Hey. Um, better?" she replied quietly, not entirely sure how she was feeling. "Thanks for letting me crash here."

"Don't be silly," Louis said, grinning tiredly. "It's the least we can do. I'm just happy to see you're on the mend, I mean, I don't want my cousin-in-law and best mate to get beaten up, now, do I?" He beamed at her, before a realisation dawned on him. Shit. Lucy. Should he have flooed her? To be fair, he hadn't really been conscious to do it, but he couldn't help but feel overwhelming guilt at the fact that he had not even spared a thought for his cousin.

"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry, Bea," he said hastily, "I haven't called Lucy yet. I mean, like, she doesn't know I know, but I mean, that was dumb and I'm stupid and... do you want to call her? We have a fireplace, I think..." What do you mean, I think? How long have you lived in this house, Louis Weasley? "We have a fireplace," he amended. "I'm just glad to see you're okayish, really. I... do you remember much of last night? You don't have to talk about it if you don't want."