The room was so messy only multiple generations of magically gifted teenagers could accomplish together over the one thousand years that Hogwarts had existed. Tino Väinamöinen had visited the Room of Hidden Things (or Room of Requirement), multiple times since he started attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Finn found comfort in the mess; he could hide his secrets, find all kinds of amazing objects, or, as was currently the case, hide.
Squeezed in between a stack of dusty books that was piled up almost to the roof, a pile of slightly smelly, old sets of uniforms that were torn, or burnt or otherwise unfit for wearing and a wardrobe (contents unknown; the key was missing), Tino gingerly massaged his wrist and carefully examined his face with his fingertips, and winced; partly from pain, but mostly because he realized that he had a bruise about the size of a small apple. The wrist he could've his easily kept secret from his friends, but the bruise was clearly visible, and Tino didn't feel confident enough to aim a spell at his face. Contrary to what people might assume, healing spells weren't his forte, offensive spells suited him better.
How can I explain this to them..? Tino had usually blamed suspicious injuries on Quidditch, he was a most excellent Beater, and took pride in his fine aim; in fact, his nickname was 'Sniper'. He'd earned it after pulling off a particularly memorable shot, hitting the Gryffindor Seeker Alfred F. Jones square in the face, leading to a swift victory for Tino's own team, Hufflepuff, as their seeker and Alfred's half-brother, Matthew Williams, snatched the snitch right in front of Alfred's flattened nose. Tino smiled a little at this memory, it had been nice to win, of course, but seeing Matthew's face as he realized he had beaten his brother at something had been even nicer; the guy had practically always walked in the shadow of the obnoxious American.
This being said, the injuries rarely came from Qudditch. The reason was something else entirely, or rather, someone else. This someone was probably the tallest student in the entire school (quite possibly the tallest person overall, too), a Russian called Ivan Braginski. Tino's stomach lurched, and he felt like he was going to be sick when he recalled the face the Russian had made. The face had only been half-visible behind a pink scarf, the mouth hadn't been visible at all, but the eyebrows had been tightly knitted into a frown, and the eyes had been colder than the ice covering the lake outside. The hand that had been slowly crushing his wrist and slapped him hard in the face had been even colder, and the voice had been near absolute zero.
"Why are you avoiding me, Tino?"
A shiver went down his spine as he remembered, and he covered his face behind his knees. The worst thing was that in the beginning, they had been friends. Ivan had depended on Tino's kindness and on Tino asking his friends to help Ivan when Tino couldn't help by himself. Ivan had been bullied not only by people in the other Houses – because he was a Slytherin, because his nose was big, because of his Russian accent – but by people in his own House too. Tino had talked a bit with the Ivan on the Hogwarts Express their first year, so his opinion hadn't been biased, and they were both foreigners in UK. Ivan had clung to Tino like a drowning person clings to a lifebuoy. And the Room of Requirement was where Tino had often hidden the Russian, although not the Room of Hidden Things, when he had been with Ivan, the room always looked like a regular kitchen - well, regular from his point of view. Yellow linoleum floor with a pattern that was supposed to make it look like stone, or perhaps marble, several small rugs, simple wooden furniture and a space to make food, a refrigerator and Marimekko curtains hanging in front of fake windows (fake windows wasn't normal, of course, but they looked normal).
But that was five years ago. Over the summer, Ivan had changed dramatically. The huge, innocent eyes that had once been filled with fear for the bullies and adoration for Tino were now filled with defiance and contempt. The bullied had become a bully. Tino had no idea what had started this, you don't just do a 180 like that for no reason.
His friends, Berwald, Sigurður, Mathias and Bjørn, had started to suspect the real reason for his mysterious injuries, mostly because Ivan no longer followed him everywhere, and because Ivan had also started bullying others, it was one of those public secrets. Tino, however, refused to admit to them that Ivan was the cause; he still wanted to be friends with Ivan. Do I really? Tino asked himself suddenly. Did he really want to be friends with someone so violent? The bruise on his face throbbed with pain, reminding him what Ivan had done.
Tino glanced on his watch. The next lesson would begin soon; he'd need to hurry to Madam Pomfrey if he wanted to get rid of the bruise on his face before anyone saw it… Ivan shouldn't be anywhere nearby anymore…
Ivan wasn't around, and the hallways were empty, save for a couple, but they were too busy with each other to notice Tino as he tiptoed his way past. Tino envied them; they seemed to lead a simpler life.
Madam Pomfrey sighed exasperatedly as Tino came into the infirmary, he'd come in twice already that week.
"How do you manage?" She asked, grabbed her wand and prodded him a little harder than necessary on his wrist while muttering a healing spell. "I told you to be more careful when training!" Tino had served the nurse the same lie he had served his friends, though he suspected Pomfrey knew, or at least guessed, the real reason herself. She was more delicate when she erased every trace of the bruise from his face, you can't prod people too hard in the face after all.
"I do try," Tino said with a nervous grin. "Thank you." In a mirror Tino could see that his face looked like normal again, and his wrist was as good as new.
"Get going, or you'll miss the next lesson," Pomfrey said gruffly, but she didn't seem mad at him. Tino smiled gratefully, and left the room.
I had so much trouble remembering 'lifebouy' in English (thank God for Wikipedia! XD). It seems you also can say 'lifering', but I thought that'd be a bit too dramatic. ^-^;; Next time will be from Denmark's point of view! :D Or, that's what I'm planning, at least... ._.