Listen, [x]...Madeline...[x]

[Junius Page]

<sub>In a world of darkness, the only thing that was human to Junius was the soft hum of words being spoken. A soothingly calm voice had a reassuring tone as it spoke to a frantic counterpart. Juni blinked, and the world came rushing back to him. His head was resting in his arms on a rather dusty bartop, with his legs swinging carelessly off the stool at which he was seated.

He lifted his head, brows furrowed, and tried to gather his bearings and determine his location. The dim light of the pub cast an orange hue around him, and reflected off the many glasses lining the wall behind the counter. It's wooden interior seemed to be rotting, and the old pub didn't appear to have any windows, or even a door for that matter.

The heated conversation to his left interrupted his study of the unfamiliar building, and as he turned his head to view the exchange, a familiar face caught his attention. There was sweet little Madeline with a placid expression on her face as the red-faced bartender yelled. "I'm telling you lass, he didn't order steak," the old man growled. He smacked his hand on the counter and continued, "He ordered fish. I've got a memory like an elephant, so I dare you to prove me wrong ."

The calm expression remained, yet a sly smile spread across her features. "Juni doesn't like fish, I can assure you that. Can you please replace thi---"

"I'm fine with this, thanks," Junius interrupted. He, of course, hated fish, but he didn't want the grumpy man to do anything he would later regret. The man in question looked at Juni angrily, then huffed off to another customer.

"But Junius, I thou--"

"I don't, but I didn't want him to get hurt," he interrupted once again with a small smile as he placed a hand on her arm. "Don't worry about it." She smiled brightly, and took his face in both of her hands.

"Listen," she said. An odd feeling filled Juni's mind. Apprehension, confusion, to put it simply he was nervous. Something weird was going on, and he didn't like it.

"Wha--"

She cut him off quickly, and pinched his cheeks. "If you want steak, you order steak." Her voice was fake, as if she were talking to a child. He gently pulled her hands off his face, and suddenly the pub transformed into a white walled haven that he had seen many times before. St. Mungos. He cleared his throat, and wiped his brow, which had become sweaty during the course of the event. Sighing, he said to no one in particular, "I just had the weirdest dream."


[[kay, I know it's like totally random and out there, but....eh, I dunno. That's not considered God moding is it? Since it was a dream?]]</sub>

[Madeline Merrick-Kendrick]

“Quiet now Mr. Goshawk, it’s just a spot of tea and I promise that it will not harm you.” Madeline was making her best at calming her patient, the nurse on duty just before her shift had given him an elixir for internal bleeding, when Goshawk had suffered from deep abrasions and a concussion. The end result was a bit of a traumatic one.

The elderly gentleman thrashed his hands wildly in the air, in great protest. “Don’t be havin’ that nurse in here again! I’ll curse the ruddy bloomers right from under her skirt!”

“Mr. Goshawk! That is quiet enough from you. Now you will be having your tea and later this evening supper will be served, and until that moment I do not want to hear another word from you. Do I make myself clear, Sir?” Madeline wasn’t one to tolerate foolishness from her patients, at the risk of disturbing those around them, but neither would she raise her voice to the sounding of a banshee. Too be contrary, the tone she selected was softly firm while her hands clasped the full edge of her hips.

“Right, ma’am. Begging your pardon.” Goshawk’s grizzled hands pulled the stark white sheet up to his chest, and quietly sipped at his tea while shifty eyes took in the rest of the room, but that was perfectly alright, so long as he was being quiet in whatever he was doing.

Slender hands smoothed the rolls of wrinkles at the end of his bed, gathering and empty glass from the bed side table she was ready to leave the room in a flourish of navy skirts and white apron.

“I just had the weirdest dream.”

The statement caught up with her just as she came to the doorway of the room, and Madeline turned to see the sound coming from her friend, Junius Page. A smile, slow and warm like honey, swept over her and though she wore no make up, the gesture alone lit her face.

“Junius, I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you checked in. From what Salise has told me you were in a state that was fit to be tied.” The cup sat at the end mantle of his bed, and she walked to the basin of water and a terry cloth rag went to her hand which then soaked in a cool liquid. In a tight twist, she rang it thoughtfully, and from there swathed the sweat from his forehead.

“Who was it this time?” They were such illicit questions to ask a Hit Wizard, and often he could only give her certain details due to security reasons, but it was always a means to keep tabs on that which the Ministry guarded from the public. So often did they risk the well fare and lives of the Wizard community, and it was always helpful to have a good friend in the Ministry just to have the heads up on what most everyone else didn’t.

[Junius Page]

<sub>Junius took a deep breath, and sat up in his bed. His sandy hair was plastered to his forehead, and numerous cuts lined his arms. Wincing, he rested his back against the tilted bed, before sinking into it. As usual, the bed was just to his liking. It molded to his body, and seemed to sooth his aching muscles.

“Junius, I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you checked in. From what Salise has told me you were in a state that was fit to be tied.”

At the sound of Madeline's voice, Juni's head turned to see her standing in the entrance way. "Was I really?" His brows were furrowed in an attempt to remember being brought here.

The last thing he could remember, besides the dream, was a forest. It was dark, and fog was beginning to rise from the ground giving him difficulty seeing his feet. He was there with three other men, and woman, all of which were chasing after a man darting in and out of the trees. Yet for some reason, Junius was unmoving. The woman skidded to a halt, before crashing into a tree, and threw a glance over her shoulder at him. Her eyes lit, and she screamed something at him, but he didn't hear it. He felt a sudden pressure in his back, and his vision failed.

He was hit with a curse, no doubt, but which one escaped him. He was more than lucky he was speaking with Madeline, because that curse could have easily been the killing one. "That's funny. I don't remember being brought here at all."

“Who was it this time?”

"The Thormans. Bloody pilferers. They got three shops, before it even got reported. No one wanted to turn them in 'cause they thought they were with Him. They're dodgy not Death Eaters!" He scoffed angrily at this, as his hand rested on his arm and began to itch a rather large cut.</sub>

[Madeline Merrick-Kendrick]

"Goodness yes. A right mess, as it would be. I'm simply just telling you what Salise said to me, but from these wounds you're right lucky you got away with your hide. A brusied and broken hide, but a breathing one." The smile that graced her face was one that had been fondly known amongst her regular patients, and more than welcomed to the weary and terminal.

Hands that were warm with water clasped onto his chest when his voice rose holding the hand of his temper. "I understand you're frustration, but you have got to understand the fear from everyone else. No one can be sure of anything, anymore. Dodgy folk, now a days, are just as good canidates for Death Eaters as anyone else. Besides, I knew the Thormans, and I was convinced they were allied with...You-Know-Who."

The voice she used was a pleasantly wafty sound, warm and smooth, something that never gave the feel as though one may be imposed upon. Spinning sour news into polite conversation, and still --as it was an occupational requirement-- did she keep her manners and wits. The ill and wounded could not bear the angst of their very own caretakers pressed with worry. One must remain bold faced and level minded at all times, if for only the sake of those that they had in their care.

"But lets not talk about that, any breaking news running through the Ministry that hasn't --or won't-- make it to the Prophet?"