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Megan Jones (keepingjones) wrote in wished,
@ 2009-12-26 15:41:00

Entry tags:

!1997: 12, !incomplete, megan jones, viktor krum

December 26, 1997
Characters: Megan Jones & ~~hottie~~Viktor Krum
Setting: December 26, 1997, Hogwarts Infirmary, 1:30pm-ish
Status: Incomplete!
Summary: Megan is counting the minutes before she can leave the infirmary when an unexpected visitor stops by.

Saturday! Megan usually loved Saturdays. However, this particular Saturday would likely be her favourite Saturday for the rest of the year. After almost two weeks of being in the infirmary following her quidditch injuries Madam Pomfrey was finally letting her out of the place. It was all sorts of exciting considering she'd been spending most of her days stalking the journals, staring out the window, and teaching herself how to cast basic charms with her less dominate left hand. That is, when her mates and family weren't visiting. Course...when she was alone...the hours seemed to drag on so slow!

Now, though, they were going even slower. She was trying her best to pass the time until three o'clock. It'd been decided that after she'd taken her last dose of the five potions she'd been on for the last week she'd be able to skedaddle off with only a single dose to follow up on. Which was important to the Hufflepuff since she felt as though she'd missed some of the Hogwarts Holiday festivities yesterday. Though she had been surrounded by family and friends for most of Christmas Day she would have killed to have been able to run down the halls yelling Christmas cheers and laying about in the snow outside. But...she didn't. And she'd already planned on doing at least some of that stuff once the infirmary queen allowed for it.

As she browsed the pages of her journal she glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall. It was only 1:30! She let out a slight groan as she looked back at her journal. She'd definitely found herself learning a great deal more about the people that wrote it in than she would have liked. And she certainly wouldn't mind putting it aside for the next ... year. As she turned the page to another entry about someone's motherly duty and holiday blind dates the sound of the infirmary door drew Megan's attention almost instantly. She'd hoped it was Pomfrey coming to relieve her sooner than promised. But no...it was someone entirely different.

"Hullo..." she offered curiously to herself with a slight grin on her features that couldn't be masked in the slightest.

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keepingjones
2009-12-31 06:56 am UTC (link)

Megan's face had contorted slightly the more Viktor urged her to quit. He sounded like a mix of Pomfrey and her mother. Though she caught on to his being concerned she was slightly insulted that he obviously thought that she was completely stupid. Which she ...was not, thank you very much.

"Don't worry about it," Megan nodded her tone less playful despite her forced smile. "I appreciate your concern, Viktor...but...I'm not stupid. Plus, my folks would probably break my legs if I got on a broom before I could even pick up a wand with the proper hand."

"Wait a minute," she quickly interrupted. "Denied from quidditch how?"

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stoic_viktor
2010-01-16 09:02 pm UTC (link)

Viktor felt his heart drop as he noted her slight displeasure and the strained smile on her face. He leaned back, and shook his head, and looked away from her, embarrassed at how he had just sound. She was not his sibling; he barely knew this girl and he'd overstepped his boundaries of propriety, telling her things that were best left to her friends and family to say to her. And it made him disappointed slightly in himself; was this how he would react to people now? Fearful that they would hurt themselves as he had done to himself? It was an odd turn of events for him, to go from a seemingly apathetic man to someone who worried like a damn hen?

"Excuse me please, Megan. I did not....I am sorry. I only wish someone had sat me down and told me what could have happened if I hadn't listened," and he paused, "I did not mean to offend you, Megan. I certainly do not think you are stupid. Excuse me," he said, feeling badly that he had irritated her, "I have hardly made my visit a pleasant one. If you wish me to leave, I will of course."

At her last comment, he paused, "I cannot fly professionally for at least one year, perhaps more. Perhaps never."

His tone was formal; the news was devastating when he'd originally heard it. To repeat it someone else, the words still sounded hollow and empty in his own ears.

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