In A Hospital Bed, Nothing Is In Perspective.

[regulus_a_b]

Regulus stirred slightly between the white sheets of the hospital bed. His eyes opened to the pale unnatural light illuminating the room. Carefully, he raised himself back on to the pillow and let his eyes slip closed for a moment

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[thats_not_cream]

[Ooc : Nope, not coming.]

The bed in which Lucifer laid in was enclosed by pristine hospital curtains, its small inner sanctum was filled with many. There was Pomfrey arguing with a tall willowy man, and Dumbledore, who was looking down at Lucifer’s pale, drawn face.

“Is there nothing we can do, Philip?” Dumbledore’s softly spoken words cut through Philip and Pomfrey harsher ones.

“I don’t know what’s wrong, exactly. This doesn’t fit any of his previous attacks. He has coughed up blood before, but never so much. He’s never had a fever, or shown any of the other symptoms that he is right now. My best guess right now is that he got sick from someone else, and that caused this attack.” Philip Gregerton, St. Mungo’s Muggle Disease Specialist, told the others. “I just can’t think of anything that could be this powerful, what it would overtake him so completely.” He muttered to himself

[regulus_a_b]

Regulus' eyes fixed on the closed bed at the end of the row, from which several voices could be heard. Having recognized Pomfrey's words and strained to hear and understand the conversation, he slid out of the bed with care. On bare feet, Regulus proceeded to step slowly up to the curtain to better hear what was being said.

[thats_not_cream]

“Are you sure that there is nothing we can do?” Dumbledore asked Philip

[regulus_a_b]

Regulus peeked through the curtains, for a brief moment. He took in the sight of pale skin against crimson, the grave faces around Lucifer. His brow furrowed in worry, he quickly left the room before Pomfrey could tell him off again.