Hogwarts

Maeve

"I'm sorry, it's obvious but I have some problems with that..." I calm myself with a deep breath. "Follow me, we should talk somewhere more private." We walk through the halls, my feet taking me dow the familiar way. "Don't freak out, this place is pretty off the map."

The wall that was once bare turned into a door as we approached. I looked around, but as most people are in class or in common rooms, no one was around to see me go inside with Coen close behind.

Stella

She gives it to me just in time for me to throw up into it.
“Ugh....thanks.” I. Said, breathing deeply through me nose.

Cait

I look away as she hurls into the trash can, then slowly turn back to face her. I consider, for a moment, asking is she wanted me to take the can, but decide to just let her cling to it. Instead I grab a plastic cup- from a stash of random and useful items I keep under my bed at all times- and quickly mutter aguamenti, filling the cup with water.

"Drink?" I ask, holding out the now-filed cup in her direction.

Coen

The Room of Requirement, no matter how many times it appears, never ceases to amaze me. I remember hiding out in there last year with the rest of Dumbledore's Army, practicing actual magic and overall just having a good time under the tyrannical reign of Dolores Umbridge. In those days the room typically appeared as a training studio of sorts, complete with mannequins and practice dummies.

This time, however, it took on a very different atmosphere. The space inside is small, but not cramped. Cozy, I decide. Nestled into the back wall is a large brick fireplace, which is lit with color-changing fire. Framing that are a few plush couches and chairs around a coffee table, which is already set with tea and biscuits.

"Nice setup." I comment, finding a seat in one of the couches near the fireplace.

(Ima get to Elle eventually... Just not now. Let's just assume she's doing her wide-eyed damaged but *totally okay* thing with her fellow Hufflepuffs.)

Maeve

"Thanks." He sits on the couch near the fireplace, his face dancing with familiar shadows. I'm afraid to sit next to him, I don't know which boundaries can be crossed right now, so I sit on the couch directly facing the fire. I watch the flames rather than his face. "Um..." I look around at the walls and ceiling. "So where do you want me to start?"

Troy

Pomfrey finally attends to me, but I can't say that things are getting better. The room occasionally moves too quickly and the lights are too bright. I try my best to answer her questions.

"What were you doing when you fainted?"

"Tuning out Snape." I say confidently, fearing no repercussions.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

I hesitate. Do I actually tell them? "My vision going out."

"You screamed before falling out of your chair, do you remember anything about that?"

No, I heard a scream...unless the dream thing caused me to. I shake my head. Pomfrey doesn't seem convinced, and I see her draft a letter later on, which she sends off with the official hospital owl. Great, she's bringing in a specialist.

Coen

The multi-colored light of the fire flicker in Maeve's eyes, masking any natural glimmer that may- or may not- be there. Her lips barely move as she speaks, forming gentle shapes.

"I'm not sure." I begin, settling back in the corner of the seat. "Maybe..." I pause, pondering the thought. "Let's start with the letter." That will likely lead into everything else...

Stella

“Thanks.” I swiped the water from her hand, trying to douse the taste in my mouth. At this point my everything hurt and I was exhausted. I went to stand up, but my legs felt wobbly and kinda heavy.

“Can you help me back to pomfrey? I think it’s time I rested.”

Maeve

I pull my feet onto the cushion in front of me, and wrap my arms around my folded legs. "It came two days ago, obviously. Um...I don't know, I guess it's more extreme than it usually is. If they even send a letter. I don't normally get something during the school year, but the insults are pretty much the same. Except for the 'wish you were never born' thing...and the threat on my life if I go back home..."

Cait

My eyes turn downwards for a moment. Ending so soon... I sigh, then look back up at Stella. "Yeah sure." I say, holding out a hand to her. I coax a grin onto my face. "Besides, we don't want you vomiting in here. Our roommates already dislike us as is, I don't think they'll appreciate the smell."

Coen

I join her in staring at the fireplace, unable to look at her while she's talking. The Room of Requirement really does provide exactly what you need... I muse.

I look back up as finishes her little monologue. "Those new pieces, are they because of me?"

Maeve

"No." I say automatically, looking right at him. "It's because I ran away. Which," I say before he can interrupt, "I chose to do. On my own. Knowing that it would...upset my parents." I look down again.

"Besides, they're kinda right..." I whisper. I pause, letting the fire crackle in silence. "My mom...she wasn't supposed to get pregnant. Everyone told her to abort. She didn't, thought that getting pregnant would help her get clean and out of the life. She found my dad after I was born, married him. It worked for nine years, but my dad turned into...my dad and she turned back into her old self...except I was a new factor...that most likely drove them to divorce."

Stella

“Oh absolutely not.” I state with a grin, trying to disguise the slight slur in my words. I take her hand and pull myself up against her, leaning but not with my full weight, still holding quite a bit of myself up.
“Lead on my trusty wayfinder.”

Cait

I frown. Her words are slurring, even if slightly, and there's quite a bit of extra weight on my arm. It's almost like she's drunk, and I know she's not. "Okay, stop." I say, turning to face her. "What's wrong? Seriously."

Coen

"No-" I say quickly, leaning forward. "It's not your fault. It never has been and it never will be."

Maeve

I allow myself to look at him. He wears so much confidence, the fire illuminating his intensity. I put my legs down, crossing them under me. "How do you have so much...conviction?"

Stella

“Post concussion syndrome, most likely.” I explain, waving my hand around to emphasize my point. “it’s apparently, in the words of my doctor, a bitch.”
I truly see the concern in her eyes, and I lend a reassuring smile.
“ I know it seems bad, but it’s truly not too terrible. I’ll tell you all about it later, if you feel like coming for a visit.”

Elle

I've been faking it quite well for the past few days, passing the dizziness off as clumsiness and the lethargy as "taking things slow.' The headaches I ignored altogether, rendering them invisible to the outside eye.

Or so I thought.

It seems Rory had been playing close attention to me since... He had been paying close attention to me.

"Elle, you can't keep going like this." He pleads. "It's not healthy to use sleeping spells every night- it's hurting you-"

"It's fine. I'm fine Rory, just go away."

"If you don't go to Madam Pomfrey, I'll tell her myself."

And so here I am.

Cait

"I mean, we have time now, it's not like we're moving quickly." I joke lightly, encouraging Stella to lean on me a bit more. I can take the weight, that much I know.

Coen

I sigh and sit back again. It doesn't take me long to come up with the answer, though it kind of hurts me to say it to Maeve.

"My parents." I say, glancing hesitantly into Maeve's eyes to gage her reaction. "I mean, you met them. It's not like they had it easy, being gay an all, raising a son." I quickly fold one leg over the other. "But no matter what, they were always true to themselves and to their values."

I pause, looking down. "They're good people."

Maeve

I smile, and I think it finally reaches my eyes. "You don't have to tell me. I already know." I pause, unsure of what to say next. "You're a good Gryffindor, you know?" I internally slap myself, like he doesn't already know that. "What I meant was you're very brave. Not just, 'throw-myself-off-a-cliff-on-a-dare' brave." I almost laugh. "I'm not good at talking today, apparently."

Troy

Despite them being twins, I can always tell them apart without looking at the color of their ties. That was Elle, and holy Jesus. She does not look good. "Ah, so there are two of you. I thought you were a figment of my imagination." I say tauntingly.

Stella

“Well, one lovely December morning I was coming down the stairs when suddenly, I slipped. Now, according to my mother I hit my head against the wall and then against the stairs. So there’s blood everywhere, a dent in my skull, and I’m unconscious. Ya see where this is going? So my dad calls an ambulance and they take my to hospital and they’re like ‘oh shit she’s probably got some brain swelling or bleeding she’s gonna need surgery everything is terrible ahhhh!’ Well, they probably didn’t say it like that, but that was the gist of it. Anyhoo I held up the internal something or other ward up for a few hours. There’s like fifty pictures of my brain and it’s honestly sooo cool. Fortunately, no brain damage, no swelling. Just a hefty gash, a severe concussion, and cracked skull. But ya see I missed all of that because I was still unconscious. I woke up a day later, let me tell you, fucking miserable. I can’t see, everything hurts, and I’m absolutely furious. Why? You ask. No idea. Apparently people with head injuries are just angry about everything. But I got better and after about a week they let me go home. Except I had school the next day. Technically I shouldn’t even be here for another two weeks, but Mom pulled some strings, so I’m here” I flourished the end with a triumphant smile, very aware of how drunk I sounded.
“And now, Well, now my head hurts, and it’s sorta hindering the higher functioning in my brain”

Elle

My steps falter and I pause, turning in the direction of the voice. Troy lays in one of the many beds lining the wall. His skin is grey against the white of the blankets, his voice dull in comparison to it's usual ring, his eyes sunken. He looks like w-

Stop.

I blink and turn away, then march over to Madam Pomfrey to tell her about *most* of my current predicament.

Coen

I crack a grin. "You're fine, don't worry." I laugh lightly. Then, as that dies down, I continue. "And so are you, you know."

Cait

I stop, grab Stella's arm, and turn to face her head on. For a moment I'm silent, serious, concerned. And I concerned, yes, but also...

"You fell down the stairs." I burst out laughing. "The fucking stairs Stella! And now you're fucking useless!"

Troy

"Yeah fine, ignore me. Whatever. It won't stop me from bothering you. This is me, bothering you! Madam Pomfrey I'm bothering Elle over here!" I continually exclaim from my bed. Don't test me child.

Maeve

I look over at Coen, and then turn back to the floor. I open my mouth, and then close it. "This is me, trying not to be difficult." I half-tease. This conversation has been about me for far too long. But that's what we're here for, so I stay quiet, hoping maybe something will change.

Stella

"Excuse you ma'am I had to climb out of a windowsill and down the side of a castle just to get out here does that sound useless to you?" I protest, waving my finger in her face....until a wave of dizziness comes over me an I lean against her for a little more support.
"Alright fine. I'm like...pretty useless. But I'm doing my best."

Elle

"Mr. Bardell, please!" Madame Pomfrey shouts to Troy. "I will not tolerate such disruptions in my infirmary!" She sighs and shakes her head, then looks back at me. "So sorry, Miss Safron, what can I help you with?"

I meet her concerned, brown eyes with my own and unknowingly take a small step backwards. "Actually," I begin slowly. "It's fine." I turn towards the door and start towards it, turning over my shoulder once more to address Madame Pomfrey again. She looks somewhat flustered, a bit confused, and more than a little concerned. "It was nice seeing you, Madame."

Cait

I chuckle. "Yeah well, at least you're trying." The door to the infirmary comes into view at the other end of the hallway.

Coen

"See, that's half the problem- you trying not to be difficult." I roll my eyes. "Just... I don't know, be you. Do what you want, say what you want, don't worry about being difficult."