Who: Tracey, Verity, and Neville What: A trip to hospital wing When: Late on Sunday afternoon (After Dem's visit) Where: The lake and then hospital
Verity had totally missed this and not even realized how much. Being cooped up in the castle so much, she barely even got to run, let alone skate. When it came down to it, Verity loved casual team sports. She loved the jostle of bodies and the way you had to keep track of twenty things all at once. To make it even better, Gwenog had come and seemed to be having a great time. Chalk one up for Muggle sports!
Now if she could just stop getting distracted by the cute blonde in the audience...
Tracey sat away from the group, resting to the side. She watched the game, her hands folded on her lap, squeezing each other as the others played. She wasn't very fond of this game, but Verity suggested that she watch, so she did just that. She frowned every so often every time someone came too close to Verity with one of those... whatever they were. She was nervous for the girl. She was a friend, after all, right? Just a friend.
Sally had the puck, so Verity tried to veer sideways to block her. She accidentally slammed into someone with her shoulder, throwing her a little off balance, but she kept her feet. Sally was still too far off and it looked like she might have a clearish path to the makeshift goal. She pushed off a little extra, trying to get the speed she needed...
And tripped over the tip of someone else's hockey stick. She plowed into the ice, only managing to turn a little to the side so her her nose didn't hit first. She had gotten a hand up, and pain was now shooting up her wrist and elbow, with a little left for her head where it had still managed to impact with the ice.
Tracey's jaw dropped as the events unfolded before her. She flinched, not wanting to actually see her collide with the ground, but when she did, her heart sunk. She cursed, carefully walking forward. The others managed to get her on a stretcher, a precaution when it came to sliding on ice. There was no need to see her fall again.
Tracey followed them as they brought her off the ice. "Verity?" She looked truly concerned. "Are you alright?" She looked pained.
Flat on her back, Verity was laughing and crying and clutching at her injured arm with the good one. "Seriously, I'm okay!" she was insisting. "It's my arm, not my legs! I can walk!"
She didn't register Tracey until she heard her voice. She looked worried for her. Well, in all fairness, a lot of people were looking a little worried, but Verity's (admittedly blurry) eyes wanted to stay on Tracey. "Really, I'm fine. Well, I think my wrist is broken and I want a pain potion right now, but I'm mostly fine."
"You're not fine." She frowned, deeply. "It's not funny, Verity. You crashed into the ground." She picked up her wand and ushered her forward. "Come on. If you can stand, we can walk to the hospital wing, but if I see you so much as stumble, you'll go right back on that stretcher." Tracey didn't like to see her so bruised up. It made her nervous.
Verity wasn't really that concerned, just hurting. She liked playing and wasn't wonderfully coordinated, so it wasn't like these kinds of things didn't happen. A lot. And the great thing about being in the Wizarding half of the world was fantastic sports medicine. Still, she appreciated the mother-henning. It was sweet and Verity didn't get a lot of sweet.
"You're the boss," she assured Tracey, waving back at the other players and holding her bad arm very still against her abdomen. She smiled at Tracey and the drawn wand. "All I want is 10 minutes with Madame Pomfrey. If you really want to levitate me there, alright, but that seems like a lot of work."
"I think it's best," she said, levitating her forward, walking behind her. "You know, with your coordination, playing that stupid game was just ridiculous. Why would you do that?" She had to say, she was a little impressed, but still, now that Verity had gone and hurt herself, Tracey was not as pleased as she was before. She walked with her, leading her inside. "Come on," she said.
Tracey looked down, "Where does it hurt?"
Oh good heavens. "I'm a little clumsy, I'm not spastic," Verity pointed out, a touch petulantly. She quietly let Tracey have her way for awhile. It was almost like a ride.
"It's not like Pomfrey can't fix me up with a few wand waves and a bottle the size of your thumb." Although, to be fair, her injured arm really did hurt. Maybe not jostling it too much was a good idea.
"You keep flinching, Verity. You've done something wrong." She climbed up the stairs, Verity floating before her. "I don't like to see you hurt," she said simply. "It worries me." Her cheeks instantly tinted when she said the words. She sounded like a fussy girlfriend. It was ridiculous!
Verity smiled at the people in the hallways as they passed, grinning as though this was a game, rather than an injury. After awhile, nearing the infirmary, she said, "Thanks. You know. For the worrying. And the levitating." It was hard to talk with her hands so still.
Tracey rolled her eyes a little. "Yeah. You should be thankful for the worrying. I don't like it." She hated fussing and fretting. Her mother did it, but only when she thought 'Oh no, my daughter is a failure!' She rolled her eyes.
As they neared the hospital wing, Tracey heard bustling and screaming. "What the hell is going on?" She stepped in, pushing Verity forward. "Hello?" It was hard to get attention over the screaming.
Neville was asleep behind the curtains surrounding his bed. If anyone heard him though they'd never know that. He kept re-living his attack and that coupled with the pain still running through him made him a little vocal and he was thrashing in his bed quite a bit. He'd asked for dreamless sleep but according to Melinda it would dull the effects of the pain potions to the point where he wouldn't be able to sleep either way.
Verity pinned her hurt arm harder to her side, actually worsening the pain slightly, but unable to relax the tension in her muscles. How was no one doing anything about that? Someone was hurt! There was one bed with the curtains drawn, and Verity hurried to it as fast as the pain would allow.
She paused at the drawn curtains, uneasy about looking in, but the sounds coming from the person in that bed were awful. "Are you okay?" Verity asked, feeling stupid for even asking. When there was no immediate answer, she pulled open the curtain to reveal a scratched and bandaged Neville Longbottom, his eyes closed and his face contorted with fear or possibly pain. "Longbottom?"
Tracey frowned, "Verity, come back here. Your arm is still inju-" Tracey cut herself off when she saw Neville Longbottom. "Holy-" She covered her mouth. What was happening in this school? "What the hell? He looks like he's been attacked." She looked at Verity. "Maybe we ought to back away..." He didn't look that safe to be around. Not when he was thrashing and screaming like that.
Neville woke when he heard his name, muttering, "Wolves..." under his breath before fully awake. He noticed first that everything hurt, then that he was covered in a cold sweat, then he looked up and saw the two girls standing at the foot of his bed. "Wh...what do you want?" He muttered feeling self conscious.
Tracey was warm at Verity's back, and she was torn between leaning in towards Neville in concern or back towards Tracey for comfort. "You... sounded like you were in pain," she said, carefully. Telling a bloke he'd been screaming like a scared child was only going to piss him off. She leaned back toward Tracey, wanting something solid and safe. "Do you... do you need anything? Maybe a potion?"
Neville swallowed hard, gritting his teeth against the pain for a moment. "I'm a-already on potions." He felt exposed, other than Bill and the healers and...her, no one had seen Neville and now two girls he didn't really know were staring at him.
Twitching back a little awkwardly at his pain, Verity consciously relaxed her body and leaned forward. "How about your girl?" she asked, her voice gentle. "You look like you had a rough day. Or maybe something hot from the kitchens?" She knew perfectly well the kitchens were out of limits right now, but the guy did look awful. Surely the house elves wouldn't begrudge it?
Neville bit his lip momentarily, ignoring the pain, the stab in his chest as Verity mentioned "his girl" much stronger. "I-I don't have a... girl." It hurt him to say it, he wanted her so much. "I d-don't need a-anything." Really, he was hungry and wanted to shower and wanted someone to hold him, but he wasn't about to ask them or do any of that at that moment. He wanted to be alone, he could feel his eyes starting to water and just wanted to wallow.
Tracey didn't have it in her to make any snide comments when she first saw Neville. To be honest, she felt bad for him. He was in so much pain. She couldn't imagine he wanted to be alone, but she felt like they were just annoying him. "You don't sound like it. Do you want us to get Pomfrey? Do you... do you need a friend to come over?" She wasn't sure what else to ask.
Tracey put a hand on Verity's back, "You need to sit down," she said. "You're going to hurt yourself more." Tracey, however, didn't move. Longbottom looked like hell. If she was in this sort of trouble, she would hope someone would get help.
The hand on Verity's back made her want to smile, but it was hard to see Longbottom in this much pain and not be able to do anything to help. She leaned back against the hand a little to let Tracey know she appreciated it before slowly approaching the side of Neville's bed, bending to stay low and aware that her hands were in sight. The guy looked upset and jumpy.
Putting one hand carefully on his shoulder above the bandaged, Verity asked, "Longbottom, what happened? There's got to be something we can do."
Neville wished there was something calling Pomfrey would be able to help, "She's seen me. Th-there's nothing else to do." He watched the blond girl move closer warily, he knew she wouldn't hurt him but still didn't feel incredibly trusting of people he didn't really know.
"I... something attacked." he didn't want to say anything but knew they wouldn't leave. "There's nothing to do. T-they've already done everything."
"Verity..." Tracey watched her. "I think we need to let him rest," she said. "There's nothing we can do that hasn't already been done." She didn't know what else to do. "Do you want us to go?" She asked him. "Do you want to be alone?" Or did he want them to get one of his friends? Maybe even some water? "Do you need a drink or something?" Tracey was not good in situations like this. It was uncomfortable and disturbing, not to mention terrifying.
Neville sighed, trying to keep control over his emotions. "Please. I'm fine, g-go do what you came h-here for."
He hated being like this, he seemed rude and inconsiderate but he was embarrassed, he didn't want people seeing him like this and he didn't want people to figure out what had happened. He also didn't know how much longer he could keep his tears at bay, he kept thinking about her.
Tracey frowned, looking at Verity, her hand sliding from her back and onto her good shoulder. "We should go. He needs to rest," she murmured. "He doesn't need to be stressed out further." Tracey felt bad for Longbottom, but there was nothing she could do. She would, however, mention something to his friend. He shouldn't be alone.
Tracey was right, there had to be something they could do, only maybe not right now. Longbotton hadn't had an accident at all, and whoever (whatever?) attacked him, he hadn't gotten his head back together again yet. "W- I'll come back tomorrow," she promised him, remembering only at the last moment that she could hardly make promises for Tracey.
Verity backed up before straightening up. She still needed Madame Pomfrey's attention for her arm, which hadn't appreciated the changes in position. And maybe Madame Pomfrey could tell them a little more about what was going on with Longbottom.
Neville frowned. "Y-you don't have to d-do that." He hated having people worry about him. Everyone had enough things to worry about without him on their minds.
Once they left the confines of his curtains he curled in on himself again. He wanted to go back to sleep but knew he wouldn't be able to in that moment, so he just let the tears that had been building behind his eyes finally fall and cried quietly until eventually his body just took over and he fell back asleep.
Tracey ushered her away toward an empty bed. "Sit here." Pomfrey looked busy at the moment, but she was on her way. "Did you hear that?" She spoke quietly as she waited. "He said wolves. There aren't wolves here," she murmured. "Wolves don't attack like that. Werewolves do," she hissed. "You don't think there are... you know.... Here. It makes sense. And did you hear the howling, last night?" Tracey cursed. We're going to be under attack, she murmured. "Everything feels like it's leading up to it, again." The deaths, the attacks, the freakish dreams, they were all trapped here.
Verity waited where Tracey had placed her, wide-eyed and getting more afraid the longer she thought about it. Werewolves? They were under attack by werewolves? And leading up to what? Verity had run away during the war, and even it made her ache as a coward, she didn't want to be around if it was all happening again. But there was nowhere to go. Feeling more scared than she had for months, Verity sat on the bed, holding her hurt arm and shivered.