It had been her first night back home since being in the hospital, and Danielle had certainly welcomed it. She had missed being with Donovan, feeling terrible that he was spending his nights either alone or in a strange position on a couch by her bedside. She had missed being home, and though there had been concerns about going back she trusted the wards that had been put up and approved by the hitwizards and aurors. Danielle trusted that the magic would keep them safe and that relaxed her.
She wouldn't deny that the first sleep was a somewhat restless one. At Mungo's they'd given her sleep draught but she didn't want to keep taking it, she didn't want to need it. Danielle had thought that being in their own bed and lying with Donovan would be enough to help her through the night, but her subconscious seemed to have been entrapped by visions of the swirling black magic creeping into everything. She'd tossed and turned, but at least she was home and with her husband.
Danielle had huffed when the healers (her
coworkers who knew her so well) had told her she needed to be on bed rest for a few more days. But apparently they knew what they were doing as she hadn't woken up when Donovan got up, and it was late into the morning before she finally woke. Instead of getting out of bed and getting dressed, Danielle got to work---well, the only work she could do. The exercises the other healers had told her to do to help bring full mobility to her arm were simple and boring, but Danielle focused intently on bending her fingers, touching each one to her thumb, not caring that her hair was completely mussed around her head and her eyes were still squinted with sleep. It amazed her how such a simple task was proving difficult, but it was her astonishment and interest in how this dark magic worked that kept her from growing angry that she had to do this at all.
At least, that's what she was focusing on.