Peter knew that he had pushed his limits with Longbottom. He had gained control in the morning, and Peter tried so hard to get control he had put Longbottom into consciousness. Before they had gotten to Longbottom's flat, he had passed out and Peter gained total control. There was just one problem--he still didn't know how to get into the wards. He slammed his already pounding head against the wall by the door.

Dean startled at the sudden thump, then cursed as he quickly pulled his wand and quickly repaired the damage to the portrait he was in the process of finishing. Hopping up, he stalked across the flat and flung open the door.

"What the bloody hell is going on out he... Nev? What are you doing out here?"

Peter jumped, surprised. He hadn't expected Thomas to be inside.

"Dean, I didn't realize you were home," he said. " I was... really tired."

He was not in the mood to socialize, and the fact that he had been locked out of his own flat twice was something he had wished to avoid. This could bring up suspicions.

Dean wasn't quite sure how "tired" equated to "standing outside your own flat, pounding your head against the wall," but bizarre behavior seemed to be par for the course with Neville lately.

"You really ought to see Gin, Nev. I'm not sure if it's overwork, or you coming down with something, but you're looking like hell, mate."

Dean turned and walked inside.

Peter followed and sneered at Thomas' back.

"I've seen Ginny, but it didn't do me much good. I'll be fine. Really. Don't worry about me."

"'Don't worry', he says." Dean rolled his eyes. "Mate, you've not been sleeping normally, you're exhaused most of the time, and you've gained a stone in the last month. Tell me just how 'fine' you are again" He snorted. "Right. Pull the other one, mate."

Bugger. If Thomas was noticing, others would be, too.

"My cases are top priority now. I'm too close to give up now."

The reality was much different. Claiming that the more time he spent with his long-term patients, the sooner they'd be out of St. Mungo's. His supervisor seemed to like that. Truth was he had been sitting in the room with the muggle patient gathering information that he could on Harry Potter. He was going to make that little bastard pay.

"I'm too close," he restated, but he didn't really mean with Longbottom's cases.

Dean was starting to worry in earnest. The obsessive light in his eyes during that last comment was disquieting to say the least... and utterly out of character for the Neville Longbottom he knew. Somehow, Dean knew that he wouldn't get anywhere by arguing with him, so he decided to let it go. For now.

"Fine. You know me, I'm a mother-hen. Just...try to get those cases done soon mate. I'd hate for you to end up in hospital because you decided to take care of everyone but yourself."

"Well, I work at a hospital, so there won't be a problem. I'm working as hard as I can, so don't worry about it. I don't need a mother-hen," he snapped, throwing his healer robes onto the table.

Dean blinked. "Okay," he replied slowly. He was now convinced that something was seriously wrong. Every aspect of this conversation ran counter to what he knew of Neville. "No mother-hen. Got it." He quickly packed up his work and headed upstairs.

"I'll see you later, mate."

Peter glared at Thomas as he left. He walked over to the couch and started to curl up on himself, his hands turning into a familiar claw-like shape. He huffed and stuff them under his arms. He couldn't get angry, but Thomas was pushing him to his limits. He sneered as he looked upstairs.

As Dean closed his bedroom door and, turning, stared at it for a moment. After a moment's hesitation, he cast locking and privacy charms on it. Flopping down on the bed, Dean shook his head. Damn, I must be more spooked than I thought.

[Summary]: Peter forgets the wards again, and Dean becomes suspicious when he has to help out.