Cursed Again ~ Pamela’s Hospital Room

‘A curious inscription...’

Their chorus of incantation echoed to unlock the ancient vault...

Light poured like molten lava onto hazel eyes. A wand snapped.

Earth quaked beneath their feet. Tumbling, Pamela leaned against the assumedly cool stone...

Instead it was hot, as though it had been cast into a fiery abyss.

An irate voice hissed something unintelligible within her head.

Darkness.

* * * * * * * * *

‘What happened?!’

’I don’t know...’

’Is she alright?’

’Who? What’s happened?’

‘Whatever it was, it seems to be gone now. Pam, I hope that was a spare wand...’

’It was... Where is my wand, anyway?’

’Pam? Pam, where are you? Are you alright?’

’Yes, what is it? I’m a little tired... but yes I'll be fine.’

‘Pam?! Merlin, I think she's out cold... Pam!’
She heard and saw a hand snapping its fingers mere inches from her nose.

’Yes?! No need to shout, I hear you...’

'Pamela! Quick, get her to a Healer!’

’What’s going on?! Why can't you hear me?’

* * * * * * * * *

‘Whatever this is... we have no idea what we’re dealing with.’

’It’s a curse most definitely, but it’s not healing properly...’

’I do hope whomever it is shall be alright...’

‘Is there anything that can be done?’ A familiar voice... but whose was it? Why couldn’t she remember?

’We could bind it; halt its progress.
There’s no guarantee how long it’ll hold, or if it will hold at all.
Until she wakes there’s not much more we can do without her consent.’

‘Does she have any emergency contact that could act in her stead?’

’None that I know of.’

‘No one? No spouse? A child? Anyone?’

’Pamela was widowed twenty-five years ago. Other than that, all I know is that she lives by herself.’

’Why are you talking about me? You should keep your focus on that woman, poor dear!’

‘Alright. Why don’t you go get some rest? If Pamela’s condition changes, we’ll let you know.’


Hazel eyes slowly fluttered open as Pamela came to. Why did every part of her 93-year-old body ache? She was a witch, and although admittedly getting old had not had pain quite like this before. Confusion lined her face at the chill of the room. The last thing she remembered, Pamela had been in the desert with her team. What in Merlin’s name was she doing in this strange place?

Glancing around, she noticed the window and medical equipment. Pamela was now acutely aware of the smell of scouring potions and magical mess remover. With a bit of horror, she realized she was in the hospital. All in all the room was pleasant but this wasn't where she was last and the witch knew that much. Why couldn't she remember what happened?

Pamela frantically searched for her wand, and felt strangely naked when she could not find it. She even attempted to wandlessly summon it, but it did not obey. What disturbed her even more was she had no idea how she got here, or why she was here. A feeling of unease crept up the witch’s spine. If she were to be treated anywhere, Pamela would prefer to receive treatment back at the Sangreal’s Headquarters. At least there she did not run the risk of bumping into someone less than fond of her opinions on bloodstatus.

A cry of surprise left the witch as a strangely familiar but unwelcome pain shot up her left arm. It was as though someone had impaled it from wrist to elbow with a hot poker, then funneled molten lava into the wound. An abnormal twitch and tingle burst beneath the skin. As she reached for to massage the odd cramp and test to see if her arm was really as burning hot as it felt, Pamela blinked as her fingers brushed not skin... but bandages.

Sitting up with some effort, Pamela pushed the blankets down to reveal she was wearing a traditional patient’s smock. The witch frowned with disapproval of the almost childish design upon the cloth. Pulling her left arm out from under the covers, Pam found this limb to be perhaps the stiffest-moving thus far. Sure enough: bandages had been wrapped around her arm from elbow to fingertips. Written upon the bindings were a variety of runes. Pamela did her best to try and translate them, but it was difficult as the wrappings interwove and hid some of the symbols. From what she was able to translate, these bandages were meant to provide additional support to a binding spell. Only a few times had she seen the method of enchanted bandages to treat a magical accident, and none of those instances had been good...

“... What happened to me?” Pamela asked the silence of the room in half a murmur and half a whisper. In a way she almost wished the walls could speak. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about having this room all to herself. The privacy was nice, certainly. But if something were to happen no one would know until it was too late... and no one was here to hear what had happened so that she might fill in the gaps.

Not at all secure in this place and too weak to do much of anything, Pamela lay back on her cot and eyed the door warily.

Normally at this time of day Adrastos Aodhan would be at the Wizengamot overseeing one of the many court cases he was handed every week. He was most certainly a workaholic, one could say, particularly when it came to his fight for equality in his position as one of the Founders and Leaders of the Sangreal. His job came first, even if it was to be at the cost of his on life. At the cost of another's, however, was a different story.

Despite being rather advanced in age, the wizard was still quite fit and able to stride through the halls of St. Mungo's hospital with ease. Though, admittedly, so long as his long, ivory walking stick was in hand. His breath was shallow, but not at all from physical exertion. Emotional exertion was more likely.

Mere moments ago, one of his sources from the Sangreal had informed him that his fellow Founder and Leader (as well as holder of his heart) had been injured from her job as a curse breaker. It was almost like a sense of Deja vu for the wizard, although the prior similar incident had been decades ago, when Pamela had been carrying his child. Still though, regardless of the passage of time, those flames within his heart that belonged to the witch still burned, causing pain to ourselves through him at the news of her injury as well as the desperation to be near her.

He asked a Healer at the front desk what Pam's room number and quickly arrived at his destination, to the front of Pam's door. Having been told by the Healer upfront that Pam was still unconscious, Adrastos held the intent on quietly entering her room, perhaps even holding her hand as she rested. He certainly personally never liked to wake up alone, and wanted to be there for her right from the moment she opened her eyes.  

Taking a deep shaky breath, he braced himself for the worst as he entered, only to breath a sigh of relief as he realized she was conscious. 

"Pamela!" he breathed out with no small amount of relief as he rushed to her side. "Are you all right?"

Still keeping an eye on the door, Pam reached with her unbound hand to feel something tugging at her hair. Deft fingers rubbed against another bandage near her temple. She could feel the gentle sticking charm that held it in place, and rubbed the portion of hair it pulled. Her left arm was clearly the most serious of her injuries, but minor ones also dotted her slender frame. With yet another sigh, adding concussion to a list of probable injuries, she lowered her arm once again.

Hazel orbs widened when she heard someone approach. Whoever it was they were coming fast. Pamela wished she had her wand, and hoped the hurried footsteps was not an elaborately deceptive captor come to finish her off now that she was conscious. A silly notion, perhaps, but the witch put nothing against those that worked against her latent cause. Quickly, she glanced around for anything that might be useable as a weapon.

All negative thoughts washed themselves away as a wizard with a very familiar walking stick appeared in her doorway. However, Pamela also flushed quite a rosy shade of pink at her earlier paranoia. How silly, indeed! If Adrastos was allowed to visit her then she was not amidst enemies. At least not for the moment. A weak smile lined her weary features as he approached. "I've been better..." she murmured honestly. "But I am a little better, now... now that you're here." Pamela lifted her right hand for him to take if he wished.

"Where are we?" Pamela asked, trying desperately to keep the fear from her eyes and voice. "Cairo?" Her eyebrows knotted with uncertainty. Was that the last place she had been? She almost listed another place as a possibility but refrained so as not to further her embarrassment. "What of your cases?" she asked suddenly, worried that her mishap was interfering with the good work that Adrastos did.

Upon seeing his beloved upon the bed in a weakened state Adrastos was sorely tempted to kiss her forehead and hold unto her just as he had when he was in the similar situation decades ago. However, remembering that he was no longer the youthful lad as he was then and that much had passed and changed he declined, though eagerly accepted her hand. He entwined his fingers with her's while the hand that held the walking stick left the aid to hover at his side so that his other hand could stroke her hair in a comforting manner. 

A smile blanketed his face at her words, both bringing a joy to him as well as a sign that however serious her injuries may be, it wasn't as grave as he had fearfully imagined. "Thank Merlin..." he breathed out with relief. The thumb of the hand that held her's began to tenderly caress her hand, both in a gesture of comfort as well as reflex.

Noticing the flicker of fear upon the hazel orbs that he dreamt of for decades, he immediately sought to eliminate it, as well as any uneasiness, for he would let nothing happen to her while he stood by her side. Merlin himself knew that should there ever be a curse thrown at her, Adrastos would gladly take it himself, even if it meant  death. 

"Oh my dear, you should know by know that the Scottish heat is hard enough upon this old man, much less that of a desert." he replied lightheartedly in a teasing tone to help comfort her and put her at ease. At the question raised about his axes, Adrastos immediately shook his head. "No, no, no, my dear. You are far more important than anything in this world." he assured her. He hesitated for a brief moment before adding in a whisper. "Remember that..."  

The witch’s smile widened as Adrastos accepted her offered hand and their fingers linked. Pamela leaned into the comforting touch of his other hand at her hair. A quiet sigh left her lips. She worried slightly about Adrastos’s abandoning of the walking stick, yet with a light blush knew that should he lose his balance he was more than welcome to seat himself beside her. At his words, Pamela nodded in agreement. “Thank Merlin, indeed,” she murmured, reciprocating the caress upon her hand.

Pamela shifted a little, discomfort merely flickering across her features before relaxation regained its hold. “Please, do sit,” she said, glancing at the space she had shifted enough for him to occupy. With an unavoidable grunt of discomfort the witch also lifted her bandaged left arm, bending it and allowing the limb to rest across her abdomen. Pamela tried to ignore the throb of pain in that wrist. Why did it ache all of a sudden?

A light chuckle escaped Pamela at the teasing, lighthearted tone from Adrastos. She assumed that there was an answer hidden beneath the words. From the corner of her eye Pam spotted the window once again, and after a short internal debate decided that indeed: the sun was not nearly as bright here as it would be if in Cairo. Given he said ‘Scottish’ and Scotland was in the region of the United Kingdom, Pam deduced she was at least on semi-familiar territory if nothing else. “So that is why you always gave me that look, when I proposed a beach vacation instead of trying a ‘skiing’ trip?” she murmured just as playfully, though in a quieter voice than she normally would have used.

For the second time thus far, Pam felt her cheeks blush with warmth in response to his words. The witch couldn’t help but smile. Perhaps it was selfish, but Pamela treasured the words and in knowing she was important and wanted. She knew that of course but it was quite another to actually hear it. Her children grew up and moved out so long ago, it seemed. And it was a much different pleasantness when Adrastos said it... It was times like these especially that made the witch wonder why exactly he let her and their child go.

Pamela nodded at Adrastos’s added whisper. Had she the strength, the witch would have gotten up and hugged him. “I have not, and could not, forget that,” she replied warmly, encouraging their joined hands to rest just above her heart. As surely as she knew Adrastos would take a curse for her, Pamela would do the same for him. The witch hoped and prayed such times would never come. It was a vain hope but one her heart still wished for, for she did not enjoy seeing any loved one in pain. Yet with the possible turning of the tide... it seemed the chances of them being attacked due to their movement toward equality were more and more likely by the day. “The same can be said of you, my darling.”

Adrastos took the seat offered, careful not to cause any discomfort upon Pam in case she had other injuries he could not see. He jumped, however, at the grunt that escaped the witch, terrified that he might have done something to cause her pain. "What is it, dear?" he asked, alarmed.

A hearty chuckle escaped the wizard as he squeezed her hand gently in a gesture of appreciation and affection. He was relieved beyond words to see that despite whatever injuries she may have acquired none of it could affect or alter her wonderful sense of humor. After all, her sense of humor was but one of the many reasons he had fallen in love with her...

"Of course not! I only did that because I never wanted to flaunt my wonderful skiing and snowboarding abilities!" he replied with mock conviction and a lighthearted affirmative nod. However, if one knew the older wizard, they would know instantly that however talented he may be when soaring through the skies upon a broom, he was a horrid klutz when it came to anything ground-related. He had been snowboarding only once in his long lifetime and that was more than enough for him. Not to mention his poor tailbone... 

The blush upon Pam's face warmed the old wizard's heart. Despite the years that had passed, the witch before him still looked as beautiful as ever. Even more beautiful, if that was possible. Staring at what seemed to be perfection herself he wondered precisely why it was he allowed her to slip away...

Until he remembered. He wasn't enough.

No matter how much he loved Pamela and their beautiful child that had been born from their love, he had no right to stay by their side and be their anchor. What could he have possibly given them? He was a son of poor farmers, as well as a failure in life who couldn't even bring fairness into his own court room, much less fulfill a promise to his Mentor in order to create a better world for their child and for Pam herself. She and their child deserved so much more than anything he could have given them. 

No matter how much he yearned for her or how much he needed her, he had to let her go. Pamela was his butterfly. As wonderful as it was to have her in his hands and arms, Adrastos knew she couldn't survive within his grasp. He had to let her go, she needed to fly. Far far away, into the arms of a noter more worthy of her love... Someone like Eugene. Eugene was everything Adrastos wasn't, and no matter how much it hurt to see them together: to see Pamela smile that wonderful smile for him, to see that glow in her eyes when she spoke of him, to witness her marry him, to see her stomach grow with Eugene's children... Adrastos knew it was for the greater good. Pamela deserved the best, and Adrastos had long ago accepted that, no matter what he wished, the best was most certainly not him.

Though his acceptance of that thought could do nothing when it came to his feelings for the witch. Eternity could pass on by and it would still be her face he dreamed of, and her heart he longed to posses.

My Darling... She had called him My Darling. It seemed so long ago that she had called him that. A soft smile illuminated the wizard's face, as the words she spoke and the sound of her voice as she said it were forever engraved into his memory. This moment along with many others would be among a plethora of memories would keep him warm during those cold lonely nights when it felt like the weight of it all would just crush the old wizard. 

The hand entwined with Pam's was lifted so that the wizard could place a gentle kiss upon her inner wrist while the other continued to stroke her hair. The longing that had for so long plagued his heart continued as he was sorely tempted to tell her how he felt, stammering "Pamela, I-I..." though the words failed as his courage floundered. "Can I get you anything, dear? A drink of water, or a Nurse, maybe?" he offered weakly, turning a little red from his failed near-confession.

“You’re fine...” Pamela attempted to reassure Adrastos when he jumped and inquired what was wrong. “My arm...” she murmured, but didn’t really want to pull the bandaged appendage out from under the blankets for him to see. Merlin, he was already so worried about her as it was. The wizard needn’t any more burdens upon his shoulders. “I do not remember what happened, but it aches fiercely. Similar to skelegrow,” Pam explained and described for him. She chuckled at the skiing and snowboarding comment. Had her other arm been in more of a condition to, the witch would have given him a playful pat on the shoulder. Or arm. Or just about any bit of him within her reach, really.

She wondered what it was he was thinking next. Despite their years they had somewhat drifted to the point where reading Adrastos was nowhere near as easy as it used to be. Their conduct at meetings for the Order was almost strictly professional for a while after she had married Eugene, both not being quite sure how to act regarding their situation. Things thankfully eased up and remained as they were in their present state shortly thereafter. Yet, there were times when Pamela wished she could just take at least one tiny peek into his mind with knowledge of his intricacies that were lost to time and distance.

Although her husband was kind and had a wealthier upbringing than Adrastos the witch couldn’t help but wonder from time to time what life would have been like had things been different. If she could go back in time and choose all over again, Pamela would have tried harder to convince Adrastos that gold was not everything and that their Mentor would not have wanted him to wait so long to build a family... that equality would come in time, and if not theirs then in their children’s. Whether it would have persuaded him, or if she would have married Eugene anyway, was difficult to say. The future, and time, were funny like that. Had that alternate future had been a reality she would not be as alone as she was now, with Eugene long gone. But alas. Pamela would not reveal these feelings as yet to Adrastos, out of respect to his feelings and ideals.

The witch closed her eyes with bliss as Adrastos kissed the inside of her wrist. It was one of her favorite and decidedly more innocent sensitive spots. Despite his beard tickling the area Pam did not move her hand much other than to caress the hand that held hers, and make an attempt to just lightly trace the side of his face with any fingers long enough to reach.

Pamela’s eyes locked onto the wizard's as he spoke, curious to what he was about to say as he stammered. It was not often that Adrastos faltered in his verbal footsteps. She smiled kindly at his offer, wondering if that was truly what he had been attempting to say before or if it may have been something else. The witch supposed it could have been Order business he realized just in time wouldn't be wise to relay here. “Perhaps both... if it is not too much trouble?” she replied, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. In all honesty Pamela did not want to be parted from him, and she feared what had happened to her arm. Yet knowledge is power they say... and quite frankly the pain in the limb advanced from her wrist to include the entirety of her left hand as well.