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themightyflynnTitle: Safe ch. 22
Author:themightyflynn
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Regulus Black, Harry Potter
Summary: Regulus has only ever known the cold and the wet. Or has he? When warmth comes back into his life, it triggers his memories.
Word Count: 904
Warnings: None
Notes: I suck at updating this one! Sorry! -_-
Read on Ao3
Physiotherapists are sadistic people. I am certain they take a gleeful pleasure in watching others suffer. Picturing them sitting in their offices, chortling away as they compare notes on who they tortured that day actually manages to make me smile a little. It does not last long, however.
I cannot help wincing as I seat myself on the very edge of my bed. My hips, thighs, knees, and calves hurt like nothing else ever has before. As if the whole stretching, and bending, and lunging caper was not bad enough, my physiotherapist has decided to add a large elastic band into the equation. An elastic band! Who thinks of such things? Groaning, I stretch out on the bed.
“Regulus?”
I scowl. “What?”
“Er… Are you alright? Should I call Katie?”
My legs throb seemingly in time to my heartbeat. The pain is not quite true pain, however. There is a burn to my muscles, as though I have rarely used them before. As unusual as it sounds, I am fairly certain that the pain is coming solely from my muscles, rather than my bones. Letting out a small sigh, I shake my head.
“No. This isn’t something a Healer can solve, unfortunately.”
“Ah.”
Fighting back the urge to tell Harry to bugger off, I force myself into a sitting position. He is standing in the doorway, all his weight balanced on one leg as he leans against the jamb. I am once again hit by just how young he looks. I shake my head slightly to clear it.
“My physiotherapist has just left.”
“Oh,” Harry responds, with a small smile.
“I am glad you find this amusing.”
Harry grins. “Sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I swear.” In response to my raised eyebrow, he begins to properly laugh. “I’m not, I promise you!”
Leaning forward, he wraps an arm around his stomach as he laughs. Shaking my head, I lie back down on the bed, figuring I will wait him out. Once he regains control over himself, he steps into the room and claims his usual chair.
“Sorry. Again.”
When I turn to look at him, Harry is still smiling. It is a fond smile, however, which just confuses me.
“A few of my friends had to do physio after the end of the war. Your reaction reminds me so much of them…” He breaks off again, still smiling. “It made me incredibly thankful that I was never injured badly enough to have to do that.”
“No, dying was apparently as bad as it got for you.”
Harry hesitates only a second before responding. “You’d know all about that.”
I believe it is shock that causes me to laugh at his defiant response. I do immediately regret it, as the clenching of my muscles causes the small of my back to protest, but I cannot help it. The hesitation, the defiant tone, the mere look in Harry's eyes… something about the combination just tickles me. It is a knock at the door that sobers the both of us. When I look over, a man stands in the doorway. From his formal robes, I can surmise that he could only be one person: my new therapist.
“Mr. Regulus Black?”
My heart sinks. I have been dreading this moment for days now. Sitting up in the bed, I nod my head.
“I am Regulus, yes.”
“Pleased to meet you. My name is Godwin Preston. I have been assigned to be your therapist. I – oh!”
Godwin Preston hesitates as he steps into the room and spies Harry sitting just out of sight of the doorway. Amusement bubbles through me as I watch the man’s reaction. The widening of his eyes tells me that he has recognised Harry immediately, but it is the clenching of his hands that surprises me. I make a quick mental note to ask Harry about it later on.
“Mr. Potter.” Godwin bows his head slightly, in a rather more formal fashion than I believe the situation truly warrants. “How are you?”
“Hello, Godwin. I’m really good, thanks.”
Harry's demeanour is seemingly as casual as ever. I do not know him well enough yet to be able to read every reaction he has beyond the obvious ones, but it is clear that the two know each other. I glance between them as Harry stands to leave. I am able to catch a small shake of Harry's head that could just be a normal movement, but I do not think so.
“Er, there was actually a reason I was here.” Harry turns to me, effectively blocking Godwin out. “Some of my friends have been asking after you. I was wondering if you think you’re up to meeting one or two of them?”
Surprise rushes through me, automatically causing my eyebrows to rise. “Of course.”
It is a built-in reaction leftover from my childhood. My parents instilled proper manners in me, and refusing to meet a friend of a friend would be considered highly improper. Harry grins at me and stuffs his hands into his pockets.
“Great! I’ll see you in a few days, then.”
I am still glancing between the two of them as Harry exits the room. Once he has gone, however, I am left alone with my new therapist. Taking a deep breath, I indicate that he should take a seat. Nerves tingle through me, but I steel myself. I can do this.
Author:
themightyflynnRating: PG-13
Characters: Regulus Black, Harry Potter
Summary: Regulus has only ever known the cold and the wet. Or has he? When warmth comes back into his life, it triggers his memories.
Word Count: 904
Warnings: None
Notes: I suck at updating this one! Sorry! -_-
Read on Ao3
Physiotherapists are sadistic people. I am certain they take a gleeful pleasure in watching others suffer. Picturing them sitting in their offices, chortling away as they compare notes on who they tortured that day actually manages to make me smile a little. It does not last long, however.
I cannot help wincing as I seat myself on the very edge of my bed. My hips, thighs, knees, and calves hurt like nothing else ever has before. As if the whole stretching, and bending, and lunging caper was not bad enough, my physiotherapist has decided to add a large elastic band into the equation. An elastic band! Who thinks of such things? Groaning, I stretch out on the bed.
“Regulus?”
I scowl. “What?”
“Er… Are you alright? Should I call Katie?”
My legs throb seemingly in time to my heartbeat. The pain is not quite true pain, however. There is a burn to my muscles, as though I have rarely used them before. As unusual as it sounds, I am fairly certain that the pain is coming solely from my muscles, rather than my bones. Letting out a small sigh, I shake my head.
“No. This isn’t something a Healer can solve, unfortunately.”
“Ah.”
Fighting back the urge to tell Harry to bugger off, I force myself into a sitting position. He is standing in the doorway, all his weight balanced on one leg as he leans against the jamb. I am once again hit by just how young he looks. I shake my head slightly to clear it.
“My physiotherapist has just left.”
“Oh,” Harry responds, with a small smile.
“I am glad you find this amusing.”
Harry grins. “Sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I swear.” In response to my raised eyebrow, he begins to properly laugh. “I’m not, I promise you!”
Leaning forward, he wraps an arm around his stomach as he laughs. Shaking my head, I lie back down on the bed, figuring I will wait him out. Once he regains control over himself, he steps into the room and claims his usual chair.
“Sorry. Again.”
When I turn to look at him, Harry is still smiling. It is a fond smile, however, which just confuses me.
“A few of my friends had to do physio after the end of the war. Your reaction reminds me so much of them…” He breaks off again, still smiling. “It made me incredibly thankful that I was never injured badly enough to have to do that.”
“No, dying was apparently as bad as it got for you.”
Harry hesitates only a second before responding. “You’d know all about that.”
I believe it is shock that causes me to laugh at his defiant response. I do immediately regret it, as the clenching of my muscles causes the small of my back to protest, but I cannot help it. The hesitation, the defiant tone, the mere look in Harry's eyes… something about the combination just tickles me. It is a knock at the door that sobers the both of us. When I look over, a man stands in the doorway. From his formal robes, I can surmise that he could only be one person: my new therapist.
“Mr. Regulus Black?”
My heart sinks. I have been dreading this moment for days now. Sitting up in the bed, I nod my head.
“I am Regulus, yes.”
“Pleased to meet you. My name is Godwin Preston. I have been assigned to be your therapist. I – oh!”
Godwin Preston hesitates as he steps into the room and spies Harry sitting just out of sight of the doorway. Amusement bubbles through me as I watch the man’s reaction. The widening of his eyes tells me that he has recognised Harry immediately, but it is the clenching of his hands that surprises me. I make a quick mental note to ask Harry about it later on.
“Mr. Potter.” Godwin bows his head slightly, in a rather more formal fashion than I believe the situation truly warrants. “How are you?”
“Hello, Godwin. I’m really good, thanks.”
Harry's demeanour is seemingly as casual as ever. I do not know him well enough yet to be able to read every reaction he has beyond the obvious ones, but it is clear that the two know each other. I glance between them as Harry stands to leave. I am able to catch a small shake of Harry's head that could just be a normal movement, but I do not think so.
“Er, there was actually a reason I was here.” Harry turns to me, effectively blocking Godwin out. “Some of my friends have been asking after you. I was wondering if you think you’re up to meeting one or two of them?”
Surprise rushes through me, automatically causing my eyebrows to rise. “Of course.”
It is a built-in reaction leftover from my childhood. My parents instilled proper manners in me, and refusing to meet a friend of a friend would be considered highly improper. Harry grins at me and stuffs his hands into his pockets.
“Great! I’ll see you in a few days, then.”
I am still glancing between the two of them as Harry exits the room. Once he has gone, however, I am left alone with my new therapist. Taking a deep breath, I indicate that he should take a seat. Nerves tingle through me, but I steel myself. I can do this.
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