Who: William and Spencer Where: The Library When: Wednesday afternoon. What: Bad moon rising
Spencer had barely dismissed the Slytherin and Ravenclaw fifth years before he was stumbling out of the greenhouses himself. He'd tried out a charm at lunchtime to make his head ache a little less, keep him a little more awake, but the effects had faded quickly in the first five minutes of the first lesson after lunch, and he had never been more grateful in his life for the free periods he had on Wednesday afternoons.
He couldn't stay in the greenhouses, though. The thick, humid air made him feel worse, and he needed somewhere cool and quiet, somewhere he could sit and be still and not hurt his head. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept properly, and last night the hour he'd managed to catch had been full of Hogwarts burning, and the sudden, sickening realisation that there were a group of third years trapped in a classroom. He'd woken just as Gabe emerged out from the wreckage, all of them starting forward at the realisation that Pete wasn't beside him anymore. He hadn't been able to get the faint taste of bile from his mouth all day.
Inside the castle wasn't much better than the grounds; in fact, there was a crowd of students, laughing and shouting across the halls as they headed off to their next classes, and Spencer swallowed and kept his head down, headed up to the library. William was militant enough that Spencer had no doubt it would be quiet enough, and the air in there was cool, the musty smell of books familiar and comforting. He slipped in the door quietly, nodding at some of his first year students waving at him from a table, and found himself a dark corner. For a moment, he just leaned against the wall, and then he slid slowly to the floor, drawing up his knees and pressing his forehead against his knees. He was so goddamn tired. He wasn't going to risk sleeping.