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Dominic Montague hated hospitals. The last time he had spent any great length of time in one was after he had splinched himself internally several different times trying to escape the cupboard he was shoved in during his final year. Hospitals brought back painful memories of potions and reknitting organs - not pleasent experience in the slightest.

Now his Dad was sick - drifting in and out of conciousness and acting more frail than he should at his age. The Healers had suspected he had been poisoned but they found nothing and now they were under the impression he was cursed, which is why they had been moved to the Spell Damaged Ward. Dominic didn't understand half the Healer talk when they hummed and aahhed over his father but if his mother's reaction was anything to go by it looked grim.

The mysterious illness had been coming and going for the last few months, it was the main reason why Dominic had come home. His father looked to be recovering - especially over Christmas - and then last Wednesday he took a turn for the worse and was placed in St. Mungo's where they just seemed to be shifting him from ward to ward.

Dominic's mother had told him to go and play Quidditch, to distract himself and keep the public unaware of anything wrong in the Montague household. So, like a good boy, Dominic did as he was told... and ended up playing the worst game of his career. Top it all off, the other players knew he had been the weak link out on the field too. Dominic had snapped at them - he had never been good at curbing his temper - and then left the stadium in a huff. He felt trapped because he couldn't tell anyone what was going on.

Montagues were never to appear weak - his father used to always say. As soon as you show weakness to your enemies, they'll use it against you.

However, Dominic knew he had to tell someone about his father or he'd crack - even more so than he already was. When his cousin asked him if something was wrong, Dominic tried to pretend he was okay but after being called a mule he knew he had to tell Marcus. Marcus was family and deserved to know. So Dominic told him where he was and then shut his journal - knowing Marcus would turn up if he was curious enough.

At the light tap at the door, Acacia Montague startled a bit and looked up at her nephew. Her eyes calculating, as if judging whether Marcus was worthy to be there. After a few short moments, she looked to the third chair in the room near her son and then back to her husband - silently telling Marcus he could stay.