Title: Distractions and calculations
Ed discovered he literally couldn't open the front door. He was quick to remind them all that he was still the unwilling guest of the house when he tried to punch straight through it with his right. The door withstood his best blows, and he would have continued with his left leg, and even tried against the wall, if Lupin hadn't pulled him away.
Afterward, he just sat on the stairs, looking at nothing. He wanted to DO something, but his aching head fuzzed up his thinking enough that his mind flaked out more often than he'd like. He knew it made performing any alchemy too dangerous a risk to take. Which, in turn, meant he was stuck.
He found he was largely excused from cleaning the house by Mrs. Weasley, both due his concussion and the burn at his neck. He knew she thought she was being kind, but a big part of him told him something else.
"Convienent of her. Ignoring the fact that I am essentially a prisoner.." He muttered in Amestrian, and wrinkled his nose in his distaste, knowing the words were harsh for the motherly woman, but rung true none-the-less. At the time, he bitterly looked at the front door again and toyed with the idea of giving it another go.
He barely tolerated the nearly hourly changing the bandage apparently needed. He loudly insisted he could do so himself, but each time was firmly told, "NO." by the various people tasked with the chore. At times, it was Mrs. Weasley. But Remus (not "Lupin" he reminded himself) and Sirius also took turns. They each always slavered a thick layer of a smelly cream on his neck that looked like it had no firm color at all, right before the new bandage was applied and duly taped in place.
He was aching to get a good look at the burn in the mirror. (Dammit, it itched like hell. He knew how to handle pain, but ITCHING? It was just so... maddening!) He often made a quick visits to the bathroom to do just that, and found he couldn't get a good grip on the tape at all. So far, he managed to give up rather than tearing into his own skin, but having his neck all bloody was increasingly becoming a real temptation.
The lack of good reading material was driving him to distraction nearly as much as the itching at his neck. Hermione had been good on her word and had let him borrow the thick book called, 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them', but it was hardly a challenge at all. He'd finished it and returned it to her within an hour. He nearly laughed aloud at its contents. The only things he considered useful bits were the ones that mentioned things he found disturbing about the "Ministry"; Things that were considered essential to the continued existance of such creatures. As he wandered about the house, he often saw more objects run off on their own, fleeing before Sirius and Harry's attempts to clear them out.
'Did they HAVE to put blood seals on EVERYTHING...?' He thought, finding himself staring. 'Just how many idiots ARE there in this 'wizarding world'?'
He met Harry's joy-filled eyes and just shook his head. Walking away rather than mention anything about it. He didn't want to ruin Harry's joy after what he had witnessed Harry endure at his uncle's place.
When he sat on the stairs, he saw that people came and went. All doing things for the "Order". Often, the people would try to ask him questions, or strike up polite conversation with him when he wandered by. Some even tried to get him to join them for the meetings; he shook his head and walked away when he heard such requests. He had better things to do than that.
He learned the name of the Greasy Hair man was 'Severus Snape' when he stopped by for a quick visit, but he didn't speak with him. He offered a polite nod at the man from where he was sitting on the stairs at the time, which was, however slight and stiff, returned. When he went to the room he shared with Ron and Harry for the night, he found he was pestered for any and all news he happened to overhear while he was downstairs. Not just by those two, but by the twins, Hermione, and Ginny. He saw jealous stares, and incredulous looks from them all. He shrugged them off, trying very hard NOT to scratch at his neck as he flopped to the mattress and drifted off to sleep.
One day drifted into the next. Ed was as often as not rudely awakened by the twin's pranks or "short" taunts, which they had discovered, to their amusement no doubt, worked just as well as a pillow attack to wake him. So far, someone was always around to hold him back from beating them both bloody every morning they chose to do so. He hated to think of what he was capable of when he was barely conscience like that...in that state of mind. Let alone unconscious.
'The twins probably wouldn't survive, or be recognisable as being human at one time once I was done with them. Or finally woke up enough to make myself stop.' He mused darkly. 'Al would've...no..don't go there. Not now...I don't need to be thinking of him right now.' He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his left hand. 'I miss him...'
Though he was practically climbing the walls with his boredom, (It wasn't THAT bad an idea...he had considered it, but decided the ceiling was too low to be a real challenge...) his headache ebbed away within a week. And the itching on his neck diminished to a tolerable level a few days after.
He was absently rubbing at the bandage, enjoying his morning coffee, when the balding red-headed Mr. Weasley joined him at the table.
"Morning Edward." Mr Weasley said cheerfully, with a bright smile on his face.
Ed nodded in his general direction, and leaned his chin on his left hand. Coffee mug and its precious contents held firmly in his gleaming metallic right. He was in yet another borrowed, colorful, long sleeved sweater, and borrowed long pants. He hadn't bothered to braid his long hair today, choosing, instead to pull it back into a ponytail.
"No cheer before I get trew first cup, please." Ed grumbled.
Ed heard a slight nervous laugh from the man, and scowled slightly.
"Fair enough." Mr. Weasley coughed into his fist, and began with a polite "How are you doing today?"
Ed glared at the man.
"Get to point, Sunshine. VWhat do you vwant?"
"Well, um..." Mr. Weasley said.
Ed raised a single eyebrow.
"It's not me, actually. Um...Dumbledore wishes to meet you."
"Vwhy?"
"You'll have to ask him, I'm afraid." Mr. Weasley said.
Ed scowled.
"I have no vwish to meet dis Dumbledore. I vwant to get back..." Ed nearly said it out loud. Then changed his mind. " ..to my life."
Mr. Weasley sighed, and looked down a moment.
"I know how you feel.."
Ed snorted. "Do not make me laugh." Ed growled and took a gulp of his steaming coffee.
"I meant to say that I know you're angry at this whole situation you're in. But believe me, it was necessary. All of it. You have no idea..."
"I have good idea what dis is really about, Mr. Sunshine. Tell dis Dumbledore I vill not meet vith him."
"Edward.."
Ed got up from the table, and walked away, leaving behind his precious coffee in its mug. He was just past the door of the kitchen when something landed on the top of his head. He blinked, and he glimpsed what looked like a barn owl swoop down and land on the stair rail just ahead of him.
:::
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