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Bedlam and Broomsticks by tiberiusirius
Chapter 13 : Life and Death Limbo
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 2


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Kenzie didn’t know how she had come to the completely idiotic conclusion that going to Africa meant that she was going to be in sweltering climates. It was a whole continent for Merlin’s sake and was bound to have fluctuations in weather and geography. Not only that but she was going to South Africa, south as in the southern tip, as in not bloody near the equator.  Merlin she was so daft. It was the bloody southern hemisphere too so the seasons were opposite. Suddenly all the clothes she brought weren’t so appropriate. She definitely wasn’t going to need the swimsuits.

 

Granted winter in South Africa was generally mild compared to what they experienced during the cold months in Britain. However, the weather here was only chilly at best of times, especially having just come from warm northern, july summer. She was certainly going to be using the hotel’s dry cleaning an awful lot considering she only brought one pair of nice trousers, all the rest were pencil skirts and casual shorts. Really though, couldn’t Kane and Decimus have reminded her about the seasons?

 

Both of her colleagues were still giving her the cold shoulder, and in weather appropriate jumpers no less. Merlin’s beard she was cold! The closest thing she had to a sexual thought about Decimus in ages involved ripping the argyle off his torso and wrapping it around her own for warmth. Not exactly blood boiling, but still desperate and frenzied.

 

Of course, since they weren’t speaking to her, besides the necessary business discussions, they had elected not to enlighten her to that the fact that the meeting with the supplier was not taking place in an office but rather at the lumber mill and yard. Maybe she should’ve figured, but she hadn’t and why would she? Kane was the one who set up everything. They were dealing with Muggles after all.

 

Naturally, her awful luck and lack of communication meant she was currently walking around out doors while it was bleeding eight degrees Celsius. Worse still, she was made to wear a hard hat, and muck around in the dirt while outfitted in heeled pumps, a capped sleeve silk blouse, and a pencil skirt. Did she mention it she was freezing?

 

She knew the trip was going to be horrible, but this had to be the worst day yet. With three days left she was convinced she was catching a chill, and the fact that she was walking around what Muggles called heavy machinery, only made her fear for her well being more. Seriously though, the place looked like some sort of torture yard. Was it really possible to feel bad for trees? Seeing this, she almost thought so.

 

The whole facility was like some sort of weird nightmare comprised of gears and metal. Sure it was designed to tear apart trees, but Kenzie couldn’t help but think that it would go through flesh just as easily. The thought was only amplified by the fact that everything here was just flung around seemingly carelessly and caused so much noise. It had her appreciating the elegance of magic. Lazarus had an assembly line manufacturing facility, but it was nothing like this.

 

At Lazarus the line was overseen by wizards who would perform their spell or function, then levitate the product on to the next person until the process was complete. Here it was all cranes and conveyor belts, leading up some sort of blade. Seriously, Muggles had a knife for every purpose; bark strippers, table saws, scroll saws, band saws, plank multi-rip saws…Did she mention saws? If she thought Kane’s workshop had been bad, this was completely on another level.

 

They stopped to take a look at one of the machines momentarily, and Kenzie found herself grimacing in odd fascination as she watched a humongous tree fed into the teeth of a blade that looked like it shouldn’t have been able to saw it in half. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, it was hard to believe what she was watching. Muggles were nothing if not resourceful, the power there was terrifying honestly.

 

She would’ve liked to catch the description of what exactly the machine was called, but it was all she could do to stop her gawking and move on with the rest of her colleagues for the tour. Actually, turning away only revealed that the group had already moved on without her. Seeing them up ahead, she hurried down the steps in her heels and scrambled to catch up. In her haste though, and most likely due to the earplugs impairing her hearing, she didn’t hear the shout of the machine operator until it was too late.

 

 A crane arm carrying a massive tree in its huge metal prongs came out of nowhere, heading towards the conveyor belt and the machine area she had just emerged from.  She was just able to see the colossal object out of the corner of her and recognize that she was directly in the path of it. She did her best to avoid, however, her Quidditch reflexes weren’t enough. She dropped, falling onto bent knees while laying her back to the ground almost as if she were trying to play some sick, twisted form of life-and-death limbo.

 

 She lay there thinking she was in the clear, watching wide-eyed as the bark flew past only centimeters from her nose. Just as she thought she was nearly out of harms way, a nub protruding from the side of the tree where a branch used to be, caught her on the side of the temple. The last thing she felt as she lost consciousness was sticky red liquid streaming from her forehead, and someone picking up her limp form beseeching her to stay awake. Try as she might, she wasn’t able to.

 

When she finally did open her eyes, she immediately shut them as white fluorescent lights blinded her. She threw a hand up to cover her sensitive irises, and felt a twinge in her arm and a painful tightness in the skin of her forehead as she frowned. Looking down towards the crook of her elbow, confusion swept over her, and she sat up right to examine the needle protruding from her vein and connected to a tube. Still the major source of the pain radiated from her head, and thoughts still cloudy, her attention turned there.

 

She ran a hand over where she sensed the discomfort, and hissed in pain as her fingers came in contact with a section of skin that was puckered and pulled together, connected by string. A realization came over her and she sprung out of bed, ripping the needle from her arm after she discovered it was connecting her to some sort of bagged liquid on a metal stand. She had to try and find a mirror, and coming upon the small bathroom, she gasped when she glimpsed her appearance.

 

Two black eyes stared back at her, decorated by a long trail of thick stitches that wove through the arch of her left eyebrow and up onto the center of her forehead. She did a double take and leaned towards the mirror as if getting a better look at the damaged skin would somehow heal what was most certainly going to scar. Well Quidditch Weekly sure was going to love the new look she was sporting. The stitches went horizontal, nearly across her whole forehead.

 

She huffed angrily and made her way back to the bed, wondering why in the hell she was at a Muggle hospital and how long she had been out. It wasn’t long until Decimus came through the door looking tired.

 

He looked extremely relieved to see her awake and hurried to her side. “Oh thank Merlin. I thought I was reliving the nightmare all over again.” He told her looking as if he really didn’t believe she was awake. 

 

Kenzie looked at him bewildered. “Why am I not at a Wizarding hospital?” She asked, “Do you know how bad is this going to scar?” she questioned pointing to the nasty head injury.

 

Decimus looked pained, “I know, I feel terrible! But who was I supposed to ask where to go? There was no floo to get you to Mungos, and I had no idea where to Apparate. We were at a Muggle sawmill and I was panicked! I just let them put you in the noisy light car hoping they could do something. I was going mad with worry!”

 

Kenzie couldn’t be mad at him. She would’ve been a complete wreck had the roles been reversed. They knew not a single wizard or witch down here. “How long have I been out?” She bit her lip not really wanting to know the answer.

 

Decimus exhaled and ran a hand through his thick black curls. “Four days.” He told her looking solemn with a far away gaze.

 

Kenzie grimaced and immediately felt for him. “We were supposed to leave yesterday?!” She breathed in astonishment. When he nodded she shook her head. “Bugger. Decimus, I’m so sorry.”

 

He came out of his haze and looked at her shaking his head adamantly. “No Kenz, don’t apologize. I was too busy being cross to give you a nudge and say we were moving on with the tour or even inform you of appropriate dress for the meeting. I’ve been trying convince you to stay out of danger, and then I put you in harms way myself.” He harrumphed bitterly, “If it weren’t for your blasted Quidditch skills your injuries would’ve been much serious. Merlin I’m such a git, it’s all my fault.” He let his head fall into his hands miserably.

 

Kenzie shook her head to herself. “I’m my own responsibility, not yours, don’t blame yourself.” She tried. “I know how much it troubles you to see me injured.”

 

He looked up, brows knitted together doubtfully as he searched her eyes. “Do you?” He implored. “Do you really have any idea?”

 

Kenzie gulped but nodded. “Of course. I know you care, Dec. You barely left my side the last time.”

 

“How could I?” He asked her rhetorically. “You were everything that was important to me in the world. I wasn’t leaving until I could take you with me.” He acted like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I probably never would’ve left if you hadn’t opened your eyes.” When she didn’t say anything and just played with the sheets on the hospital bed, he spoke again. This time softly, and desperately trying to capture her grey gaze. “You know I love you…you know I never actually stopped.”

 

Kenzie looked pained. “Dec what do you expect me to say. I—“

 

He cut her off. “Just tell me you don’t love me if that’s the case!” He was anticipating an answer, and looked as if he was tensed for one he didn’t want to hear.

 

Kenzie rolled her eyes. It wasn’t that simple. “Of course I care about you! I love you even, but its not like I used to, not like you want.” She told him. Her voice was softer as she considered. “I have a boyfriend, and you—you have a fiancé.” She made herself look at him but it was a mistake.

 

He captured her eyes and held her gaze with his intensity. “I ended it, the engagement’s over.”

 

Kenzie’s eyes went wide and she stared at him bewildered. “No.” She whispered shaking her head.

 

He didn’t pay attention to her distress, “You can’t tell me Wood means more to you than I do.” He asserted fearlessly, somehow there was no arrogance in the statement.

 

She gaped at him incredulously. They were two completely different animals altogether. There was no comparing!

 

He rolled his eyes, “C’mon Kenz, you and I both know that he’s just a passing physical attraction. Do you even know anything about him?”

 

Kenzie scoffed, but as she tried to think about it, her expression turned into a frown. She went fishing, “His save percentage last season was 0.913, second best in the league.” She informed him lamely.

 

Decimus chuckled sardonically, “Really? Quidditch statistics? Has the git not told you anything about him? Seriously, do you know anything that a fan of his wouldn’t?”

 

She opened her mouth, but then closed it again glowering. All she really knew about him was that he was born in Scotland, went to Hogwarts, was in Gryffindor, he Keeps for her favorite team, and he has famous friends. All of it could probably be discovered if you did five minutes of digging. Even the bit he had told her about his past relationship with Katie Bell. Still she felt defensive, “He’s a public figure Dec, his life’s an open book. Anything I know is bound to have been written about sometime.”

 

“Don’t be foolish! Do you even hear the excuses you’re making?” he asked her, “I know it sounds malicious, but do you really know what you’ve gotten yourself into? What if he’s using you? I really don’t want to see you hurt.”

 

She scowled at him. “Oh well thanks for the bloody great timing with that! Do you even know how destroyed I was after what you did?” All the frowning was making her stiches pucker, but she was too worked up with the topic at hand to notice the pain until there was blood dripping down the bridge of her nose.

 

Decimus was there in an instant, she had no idea where the towel he held in his hand came from. “Hold still.” He told her. She flinched at his initial touch, but he just put a gentle hand under her chin to force her to stay put.

 

Kenzie pouted the whole time like a stroppy little girl. When he noticed her expression, he gave a small, amused smile, his clear blue eyes sparkling as he continued to clean her up. The man really was perplexing, and so were her feelings towards him. She was currently sporting two black eyes, a huge nasty scar on her forehead, and he was confessing his undying love? She used the time he took to try and halt the bleeding to scrutinize him.

 

He was a looker, there was no doubt in that. He was tall, and olive skinned, with unruly black curls and alarmingly clear blue eyes. He certainly wasn’t as burly as Oliver, but he had definition and muscle tone that was alluring in his own lithe athletic way. Besides, he had a spirit about him that was charismatic and infectious. He was a real charmer and playboy, but she knew him better than anyone and was well acquainted with how sweet he could be. Like now for instance, damn him. There were reasons she fell in love with him, however much she tried to forget them.

 

She never really stopped the conversation she was having in her head. Even after they discharged her from the stupid Muggle hospital, and they made they made their way back to the hotel to meet up with Kane and the prearranged Portkey they had managed to extend. She was ecstatic to be leaving South Africa and she wished she could leave behind the memories of Muggles and their sick obsession with blades, pain, and machines. Really though, after this trip she was convinced they just engineered things to torture themselves, damn nutters. She would definitely stick with her potions and charms thank you!

 

She knew she should probably just go straight to St. Mungo’s but she was exhausted from all her thinking, and she’d already had the stitches for four days, so instead she made her way back to Fredericks. He had already returned to America, therefore she and Angus had the place to himself. 

 

When the little house elf saw her face he nearly had a heart attack. She felt bad for yelling at him to leave her be, but it was the only way to get some peace and quiet. She needed a reprieve from noise and thinking to get her headache under control. The noise was easier to get away from than the thoughts, although at one point the doorbell did reach her ears.

 

She heard steps coming towards her bedroom door before she really knew what to do. She knew it had to be Oliver, and she didn’t have her feelings sorted out enough to want to talk with him. She was running into her bathroom and locking the door behind her when she heard his voice.

 

He sounded a bit terse as he walked into the room speaking loud enough for her to hear. He had clearly seen her scamper away to hide. “Is something wrong Kenz? Weren’t you supposed to be back yesterday morning?” He asked coming up next to the door she was hiding behind.

 

Kenzie grimaced and tried her best to sound normal. “Yup, fine. I’ve just been tired is all.” It came out way too high pitched not to sound suspicious. 

 

He didn’t buy it. “So you’re too tired to answer the owl I sent yesterday, but not tired enough to run and hide in your bathroom when you hear me coming?”

 

He had a point. Why did he have to send an owl? “Shite.” Kenzie cursed softly. He still heard it.

 

Oliver wasn’t amused. “Will you get your bloody arse out here already?” He asked her gruffly. She didn’t respond, so Oliver spoke again. “Is there a reason why you’re avoiding me? At least give me an explanation! I came all the way here to check on you for Merlin’s sake!” He sounded cross now.

 

He was right, even if she wasn’t ready to give one, he did deserve an explanation. She begrudgingly opened the door to the bathroom.

 

Oliver looked like he was going to say something, but instead he sputtered. His face morphing from anger to genuine worry in an instant. “I—bloody hell! What happened to your face?” He said, grabbing her head in his hands and inspecting her black eyes and stitches.

 

Kenzie wasn’t amused by his choice of words, and scowled at him. “I am very well aware I look like a damn Dementor without your revolted remarks.” She snapped.

 

He ignored her, still examining her forehead, “We need to get you to St. Mungo’s if you don’t want this to scar.” He informed her. He seemed more concerned with the stitches than he did with saying hello.

 

She ripped herself away from his grip. Maybe Decimus was right, after all. Maybe all he cared about was looks. There was no ‘are you alright’, coming from him, only, ‘Merlin your face is going to be ugly if this thing leaves a mark’. Okay maybe she was blowing things out of proportion, but was he even going to ask if she was okay?

 

She glared at him furiously. “Hello Kenzie, it’s nice to see you.” She began sarcastically, “I see you have two black eyes and twenty four stitches, but I’m not going to ask if you’re okay. You certainly couldn’t be knackered from your trip, so let me drag you out of bed and to the hospital because you didn’t just spend the last four days in a Muggle one! Clearly I don’t give a hippogriffs arse about how you feel.” Her tone was waspish and her eyes blazing as she informed him how she had interpreted his greeting.

 

Oliver took a step back blinking in surprise, but still looking determined to get her some medical help despite her insulting interpretation of him. “Of course I bloody care! Hence why I’m taking you to the hospital!” He seethed. He couldn’t take the edge out of his voice. How could she really think he was that callous?

 

He tried to grab her hand and lead her out the door but was unsuccessful as she ripped her wrist out of his grasp roughly.  She rounded on him, her face contorted in distressed anger. “Oh you care alright! Care about whether my face scares, but not at all about how I feel or if I’m even all right!”

 

Oliver’s mouth dropped open momentarily staring at her confused but still miffed. He shook his head baffled. “Where is all this coming from? Do you even hear what you’re saying?” He asked blinking disbelievingly.

 

Kenzie was too caught up on the fact that he didn’t deny her accusations, or even stop to ask about her wellbeing after she clearly had taken issue with him over it. Never mind he was trying to take her to the hospital; he had selfish reasons for that she was sure. She felt her heart twist in agony. “Why don’t we just cut the crap, yeah? Stop pretending like you think whatever we have goes beyond something physical!” It hurt her to say it out loud. She desperately wished she didn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth.

 

Oliver’s gaze widened slightly and his nostrils flared a bit as a rage took over. “Is that what this is about?” he fumed looking thunderous.  “You think I care about whether your face scars because I only fancy your looks and your body? That I just keep you around for whenever I need a fuck?” He raged in a dangerously soft tone.

 

Kenzie didn’t like seeing him this angry, his words were like lashes on her skin. “What else am I supposed to think? It’s not like we ever just talk. I know nearly nothing about you!”

 

He took two long strides and had her by the shoulders looking murderous. “That’s because you’ve never bothered to even ask!” He roared at her.  He looked disgusted with himself after he realized how angry he was and that he was probably hurting her. He pushed her way roughly and used one hand to massage his forehead. “I’m sorry.” He told her, “I lost my temper.”

 

She paid no attention to his apology. Her head was too busy reeling at the implications of his words. Was that really why she didn’t know anything about him? She hadn’t cared to ask? She needed a hand to remain standing as she suddenly became very dizzy, a pit developing in her stomach.

 

He was right, she knew nothing about him. He, on the other hand, knew loads about her. He knew all about her mother and father and the complications of her family life. He knew about Beauxbutons, and her dreams of working at Lazarus. He was aware of her engagement to Decimus and how everything had fallen apart. He took an active interest in getting to know her, but she had never returned the favor.

 

Decimus may have been right that she didn’t know him, but it wasn’t for the reasons she originally thought. It wasn’t because he didn’t want her to become too attached. He wasn’t trying to keep her at a distance. It was because she was too afraid what might happen if she did let him in; it was her, not him. She needed to fix this. “Oliver, I don’t know what I was thinking.” She tried beseechingly.

 

He held up a hand for her to stop and she swallowed back her apology. “It was Decimus wasn’t it?” He asked her, his expression dark. “He got into your head.”

 

How he had jumped to the right conclusion she didn’t know. Her face contorted in anguish. “He asked some valid questions…” She trailed off seeing him shake his head angrily. Hastily she added, “He was right, but I was too stupid to know the truth of it. It’s my insecurities…I didn’t want to get too close. It’s why, I’ve never asked about you.” She finished.

 

“He’s still in love with you.” Oliver said staring pointedly at the wall, expression intense. It wasn’t a question, just a statement of the facts. He turned his hard gaze on her. She felt no warmth in his amber eyes. “Do you still love him?” he asked stoically.

 

It was like a dagger to her heart. She knew the answer, but she didn’t want to tell him.

 

“Well?” he asked her when she just stared at him looking pained, “Do you?”

 

She couldn’t lie. “I care for him yes, but I don’t love him like that anymore.”

 

Oliver didn’t miss a beat, “But you do love him then?” He asked.

 

She bit her lip and nodded. It wasn’t easy to stop caring about someone.

 

Oliver looked away for a moment, before heading to the door. Kenzie felt tears welling up, but she wasn’t going to let him leave that easily. “Oliver stop.” She pleaded with him, stepping into his path.

 

He halted and looked at her quizzically. “Isn’t this what you want?” He asked her, “You’re convinced I’m using you! You don’t want the attachment, so I’m giving you an out.”

 

She shook her head emphatically, “Oliver, please no.” She begged him, brow furrowed and panicking.

 

“Yes Kenzie.” He asserted. “You don’t trust my intentions, and you let yourself be convinced that I didn’t have any respect for you. Merlin’s beard! You think I just wanted you around for a shag now and again. You don’t want a relationship Kenz!”

 

“That’s not true. And I don’t think that about you!” The tears were streaming down her face now. How had she gone and screwed up such a good thing? She deserved what she got, she always did. He, on the other hand, deserved much better. Her shoulders slumped and she lost all fight as she realized that was the truth. “I’m sorry Oliver.” She told him stepping out of his way and looking at the ground.

 

She watched as he reached for the door and opened it to leave. She averted her gaze, unable to bear seeing him with the knowledge of how massively she had screwed up. He felt differently, though. He wanted one last glance at the girl he thought he could have a future with before he walked out the door.

 

Or at least he thought he was going to walk out the door. “Shite.” He muttered as he looked at her face seeing blood seeping from the stitches on her forehead. The thick jet of dark red was flowing down her temple and mingling with the tears on her cheeks. He walked back over to her. “You’re bleeding,” he told her looking for something to clean up the wound. He was having a hard time keeping his stoic resolve.

 

She shook her head. If he was going to leave, better he just do it now. He shouldn’t have to deal with her any longer. “It’s fine.” She tried, “Just go.” She picked up a towel lying on top of her chest of drawers and put it to her forehead, turning away from him. She was a bit too rough with it and hissed in pain.

 

Oliver turned her back to face him and took the towel from her grip so he could stop the bleeding for her. “We need to get you to St. Mungo’s.” he told her dabbing near the corner of her eye gently.

 

She had to object. “No, really, you’ve put up with me enough.” She tried to pull the towel away from him. “I can get there myself.”

 

Her insistence just annoyed him. “Oi! Stop tugging on the towel.” He said harshly, “You’re going to make it worse!”

 

Kenzie frowned, which actually did make it worse. Why wouldn’t he just go? Was he trying to prolong the pain? “Just give me the damn towel and leave if you’re going to!” she yelled at him crossly, yanking the towel away from him like a child. “I’ll get to the ruddy hospital tomorrow!”

 

His gaze was livid and he was outraged at her tone and increased volume. He stood there for a moment glaring at her intensely before he scooped her up in his arms. He matched her volume with his angry bellowing. “I’m not leaving until I see you’re stroppy arse is taken care of! If I left it to you, you’d ever make it there and you need to see a Healer.” He kicked open the door to her room and marched down the hall while she struggled fruitlessly in his grip. Her fidgeting only made him more irate. “Damn it D’masi, why do you insist on being so damn difficult!” He thundered down the stairs, still with her firmly in his grasp, “Honestly, is it so hard to believe some one cares? Is it really that bad if they do? I fucking care all right?” He paused in front of the fireplace to find her staring up at him stunned. He rolled his eyes. “Just grab some floo powder and yell St. Mungo’s already, will you?” There was no arguing with him. The look he was giving her was much too forceful; she did as she was told.

 

Arriving at St. Mungo’s, Oliver stepped out of the fireplace with an ease she had never seen anyone accomplish before. He didn’t stumble, he didn’t trip over his own feet, and he wasn’t dizzy in the least. In fact, it was as if he stalked straight out of some green fiery hell. The attitude rolling off of him certainly gave credit to the image.

 

It was probably the picture of her in his arms and his large, burly, and clearly angry person, that attracted the attention of everyone in the waiting room at first. Still, once the novelty of their dramatic entrance faded away, it was the fact that they were Kenzie D’masi and Oliver Wood that kept everyone rapt and attentive; all eyes were on them. She tried to shrink down two sizes unsuccessfully. Oliver was too furious to notice the stares they were receiving.

 

He strode purposefully over to a nearby seat where he set her down before marching angrily up to the counter. He wrote her name down on the waiting list looking like he was trying to stab the quill through the counter before he seized the clipboard the Nurse administrator was holding out for him to take. Kenzie flinched as he threw himself into the seat next to her. He began filling the form out as she tried to reach for it.

 

“I can fill that out you know.” She said softly so as not to be overheard. “You can go now. You’ve done enough, I’m here at St. Mungo’s.”

 

Oliver Harrumphed at her, “I’m not daft enough to think you will actually stay if I leave.” He told her writing something down on the clipboard. “What’s your middle name.” He asked gruffly.

 

“Aurora.” She muttered crossly. When she saw him write it down, a thought occurred to her. “What’s your middle name?” she asked him casually in return.

 

He paused writing to look at her suspiciously. Still, he answered, although begrudgingly. “Douglass.” He told her. He turned back to the clipboard looking sullen. “You’re were born in Caerphilly right?” He asked her. She nodded and he scribbled some more.

 

She tried to act nonchalant with her own questioning. “You’re from Scotland, Staffa was it?”

 

Oliver snorted, “Staffa is an uninhabited Island.”

 

Kenzie frowned, “I thought you said you flew there from your house and it used to worry your mum.”

 

Oliver looked slightly annoyed. “I pointed across the isle and over the channel. Hence why she was so worried. My parents lived just outside Balnahard Scotland, that’s where I’m from.” He sighed and sat the clipboard down in his lap, “I know what you’re doing Kenz. Just stop, it’s too late to ask now.” He said it so simply and just moved on. It made it seem so final. “When’s your birthday?”

 

She had no intention of stopping regardless of his tone. “October third, 1978. Your is in September twenty fifth, ’76 right?” She smirked knowing she was right.

 

Oliver sighed irritated that she wasn’t going to quit, “Aye, and anyone who collects Quidditch Cards or reads Quidditch Weekly would know that.” He continued right on with her physical examination “So, what are you like five foot eight?”

 

Kenzie frowned at the low-ball estimation, “What are you like six foot?” She said acting like a child. She knew he was six foot five. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “I’m five foot ten and a half, thanks.”

 

He scribbled it down before snorting at the next question he had to ask. “I’m not even going to try and guess your weight in case you find a way to make me spontaneously combust with your eyes. How ‘bout you just tell me.”

 

She scoffed as if that was never going to happen, but when he gave her a level look, she ground her teeth together and answered begrudgingly. “I weigh a hundred and seventeen pounds.”

 

 He frowned slightly but didn’t comment, which was definitely good for his own safety. “Any history of disease in your family?” He asked.

 

Kenzie couldn’t tell if it was the question or the whole situation that made her salty. “How would I bloody know? Lola would never admit to having any kind of fault, and my father doesn’t even want me to exist. Frederick’s family has a history of heart disease if that helps at all.” She finished sullenly.

 

Oliver didn’t respond to her moodiness, just paused grimacing before he moved on with filling out the paperwork. “Do you take any potions on a regular basis?” He asked her.

 

She just continued to glower. “That’s a bit personal, so how about you just give me the damn clipboard!” She snapped at him. When she realized she had practically yelled the last part of the statement, she shrunk back in the chair seeing all the stares. Instead of pressing the subject and causing more of a scene, she just went ahead and divulged. “I take a Contraceptive Draught weekly.” She whispered to him softly, as an after thought she added, “Firewhiskey doesn’t count as a potion does it?”

 

Oliver actually cracked a grin. “No D’masi, Firewhiskey isn’t a potion. Although the fact that you believe you consume enough of it on a regular basis to consider having me write it down is a bit frightening really.”

 

If he‘d taken in her expression, he would’ve seen her glaring. “Don’t act like you don’t indulge Wood.”

 

He snorted, “Very rarely. I work much too hard on conditioning to go and throw it all away getting pissed.” He stood up and walked the clipboard back over to the nurse behind the desk.  

 

Keznie was muttering under her breath as he came back to take a seat next to her.

“Care to share?” He asked her gruffly, crossing his arms and staring at the far wall pointedly.

 

She flushed and looked away. “Not really.”

 

He turned his gaze from the wall and narrowed his eyes at her. “Out with it.” He demanded.

 

She pouted but knew he would press her until she told him. “I was just commenting to myself that you and your bloody perfect body are what drive me to drink. I never can think straight so I might as well take the edge of.”

 

He wasn’t thrilled with the compliment. He simply lifted and eyebrow at her. “And you think I’m the one that’s supposedly more interested in the the physical aspect of our relationship!?” He commented scathingly.

 

She was about to open her mouth and respond when she heard her named called. It startled her, and she sprung to her feet so fast that it made her dizzy. Oliver saw the look on her face and didn’t ask her permission to once again pick her up. He carried her over to the Healer who was now holding the clipboard. He asked if they needed a wheel chair, but Oliver just motioned for him to lead the way.

 

They were guided just around the corner into an examination room. With the view of the waiting room over Oliver’s shoulder, Kenzie noticed too many eyes trying to keep track of where they went. It was a little unsettling, but there was nothing she could really do about it. Soon enough Oliver was setting her down on a hospital bed and taking a seat on the end of it while the Healer went over the information sheet Oliver had filled out for her earlier. He was frowning at it.

 

“Ms. D’masi, would you say you have a healthy appetite?” The man asked her.

 

She knew where this was going, it happened every time she visited the doctors. “I’m here to get the stitches out.” She told him testily trying to steer the conversation.

 

Both the Doctor and Oliver shared a look, but it was Oliver who spoke. “Answer the question woman.” He ordered.

 

Kenzie glared at him, and turned her gaze on the Healer huffing, “My appetite is fine, though I’ve been dieting and exercising a lot. I’m perfectly healthy, if a bit underweight.” She huffed.

 

Oliver looked at her as if she was daft. “If you know you are underweight why are you dieting?” He grilled.

 

She tossed her hands up in the air exasperated. “I don’t know Oliver. Think about it. Why did I start exercising with you?” She questioned him as her answer. He really should already know.

 

Oliver rolled his eyes, but she noticed him soften a bit. “You can’t starve yourself because of the Quidditch Weekly feature.”

 

Kenzie squirmed, a bit uncomfortable. “Duly noted. Can we get a move on and get this crap attempt at embroidery off my forehead so I can go home? Please?” She tried to expedite the process.

 

The Healer was annoyingly patient. “Yes well, I just need to confirm you aren’t pregnant so we can give you a pain numbing potion. The stiches must be taken out by hand before any spells can be performed, and it will be painful considering it hasn’t had much time to heal. If you’ll just lift up your shirt I can do the examination.”

 

Kenzie frowned at him, “It says right there on that sheet that I take a weekly Contraceptive Potion. I’m not pregnant.” She told him as if that was the end of discussion.

 

Oliver threw his hands up in the air. “Quit being such a difficult prat!”

 

She huffed and crossed her arms underneath her breasts. What was he still doing here anyways? It’s not like she could run away from the Healer now. “Fine, but only if you go home. I’m a big girl, I can handle this myself.” Kenzie glowered as she lifted up her shirt to bare her stomach.

 

The Healer looked between them clearly wondering who was going to win the battle of the wills. He marched over to Kenzie brandishing his wand at her torso while glancing back and forth.

 

Oliver pursed his lips unhappily but nodded curtly, “I guess I’ll be going then.” This was what he wanted, right? If she couldn’t handle a relationship with out subconsciously trying to sabotage it, why was he wasting his time? He turned abruptly for the door, making sure not to make eye contact with the infuriating woman he had brought there.

 

He never did make it out into the hallway, or even step foot out of the examination room.

 

When he opened the door, camera flashes blinded him as the crowd that had gathered outside erupted into chaos. They were pushing and shoving each other as they tried to get the best angle for a view into the room. The nurses tried to maintain some type of order and get them to leave, but all their threats and yells fell on deaf ears. They were like dogs with bones, they weren’t going to leave unless by force.

 

It took him a moment to gather himself as he stood there flabbergasted, but once he collected himself he rapidly slammed the door shut. Cursing he turned around, and his eyes went wide horrified at what he saw. There, frozen in astonishment, stood the Healer hunched over Kenzie, wand extended toward her bare stomach as both of them looked towards the door alarmed. It wasn’t hard to guess what the press would be printing the next morning.

 

“Fuck.” Was all he could say, before he slid down the door to take a seat on the floor. He glanced up at Kenzie to check on how she was handling the turn of events, but it looked like she was still trying to process it all.

 

The Healer was the only one of them who looked as if he had gathered himself and moved on already. He had his wand pointed at his throat when an announcement could be heard throughout the entire building. “Security to examination room B, first floor. Security to examination room B, first floor.” He repeated as his voice echoed loudly.

 

The noise seemed to bring Kenzie out of her stupor. “Oh Circe. Oh fuck.” She was taking huge gasping breaths and looked like she was about to hyperventilate.

 

Oliver gathered himself up off the ground and took one long stride so he was next to her. He took her hand in both of his and tried to find words to calm her down. Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of any so he settled for stroking her hair and shushing her soothingly.

 

The effects of his efforts were completely lost however when the Healer came back over and said, completely cheery mind you, “Well, good news! You were right. You aren’t pregnant!”

 

 They both turned incredulous stares on him. As if now, of all times, they should somehow be happy to hear it! The whole bloody world was going to think they were soon-to-be parents by tomorrow. Things were about to get even more chaotic.

 

 

 

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