#finestra:plotdrop03

Winnie’s hands trembled as one clasped around the mug of tea that had gone cold, the other resting against her chin. Her eyes stung with tears as she stared blankly at the wall in front of her, just as she’d done for the past twenty four hours. Ever since she’d heard those fateful words. Emrys Abbott is dead. The girl had screamed until her voice was hoarse, she didn’t want to believe it. Part of her still hoped he’d come running into the great hall, throw his arms around her and tell her it was a mistake. But he didn’t. 

He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone. The words repeated in her head like a mantra, reminding her of the loss. She’d not been particularly old enough to understand the pain when she was younger, but now, now she felt it - the unbearable pain of her brother being gone. He’d always tried to protect her, and Winnie had sensed something had been wrong just before he’d left the dance. She’d let him go when she should have pushed harder for information, when she should have followed him. Maybe then, he would still be here.

She didn’t even register someone approaching her, her focus remained on the spot on the wall, lips barely moving as she croaked, "I’m sorry, but I wish to be left alone right now.”

The light was almost blinding as Gideon finally opened his eyes for the first time in days. It almost made him want to shut them again, but upon blinking several times - Gideon realised he was in the hospital wing. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there, but the searing pain throughout his entire was probably some indication. 

Gideon moved to sit up, fingers reaching for the glass of water sat at his beside, desperate to quench his thirst when the pain almost doubled, causing the boy to yell out in pain, a whimper escaping his lips as his head crashed back down against the pillow. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he mumbled desperately, not wanting to concern anyone as he saw someone dashing over.

Celia wasn’t sure how long she’d been awake, but far too many people were fussing over her and she hated it. The hospital wing seemed more crowded than usual and it sent a pang into her chest. A cough slipped from her lips and she winced as pain shot through her ribs -- squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to remember what had happened to her. Her memories were hazy, and she couldn’t seem to focus. Hearing a voice, her eyes snapped open and she frowned at her visitor. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not too bad,” She murmured, shaking her head.

Regulus felt restless, and had since he first woke up in the hospital wing. He was certain that a letter from his parents would be coming the second he was out of here, that an inevitable summons home for what his parents perceived to be a disgraceful choice would soon arrive. He couldn’t bring himself to regret his actions, though. For once he had acted on his gut, followed his heart, and he couldn’t fault himself for that. But Merlin, was waiting the worst. “Do you think Madame Pomfrey would get upset if I had someone bring my cat to me?” he asked the person closest to him.

Betsy had never liked the hospital wing, especially not when she was a patient. It left her feeling like too much of a burden, even more so now with so many beds filled. She could just as easily be resting and recovering back in her dorm room. She sighed, blinking as she stared at the ceiling above her. “It’s so quiet in here,” she said, mostly speaking to herself. Too quiet, really, if you asked her opinion. 

“This has turned into the worst party ever,” he stated dryly to Jasmin beside him. “And we don’t even have any more booze to make it better.” ( @macjasmin​ )