Luna was hurt. Really, really hurt. Over the course of her second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the bullying from her classmates had stepped up to an alarming degree. The tiny blonde had been expecting more of the same from her first year: name calling, taking her possessions and hiding them in inconvenient places, degrading her parents (never mind that her mother was dead), and so on.
I never expected them to get so violent, so…cruel. Last year they'd avoided my personal space at all costs, afraid of catching my oddity, as Chang said. That hurt, sure, but it wasn't the same as being routinely attacked at all hours. And still, even then I stupidly thought it wouldn't escalate to a full-on assault…but it did. Damn it, where'd I put the Pain-Away? Luna thought as she rifled through her carefully hidden healer's kit. It was a small trunk, protected with all the item wards and charms her mother had taught her. Besides potions, salves, and bandages, it also contained a go-bag with a change of clothes, a spare wand, and a Portkey to her house. Her father had pressed it into her hands the night before her first year started.
Diagnostic charms were tricky when applied to oneself, unless you knew the specific sub-spells. Thankfully, Luna did; casting a few, she grimaced, and then winced as her battered face twinged. "Broken and bruised ribs, badly sprained arm, various bruises, cuts, and contusions…lovely," the blonde muttered to herself as she gathered the needed potions. An elixir meant for ribs, a numbing spray and a salve for the arm, Pain-Away, blood replenishers, a level two general bruise balm and accompanying potion, and a few spells for the cuts and contusions. It'll have to do until I can sneak out to see Madam Pomfrey, Luna thought. She'll sort me out. And Professor Flitwick is coming back from his sabbatical tomorrow, thank Merlin!
Sighing, the second year got to work, praying she could stay awake until her housemates were asleep. She debated waiting until after Filch made his rounds near Ravenclaw Tower, but sometimes the steward liked to mix up his route, and even with all of the self-healing she'd still be in a sorry state, covered in blood, clothing torn.
Unbidden, a sob rose from her throat, loud in her small, Silenced room. I wish Daddy was here! He'd know exactly what to do to make those assholes stop hurting me! What if Professor Flitwick can't do anything…or worse, doesn't want to? Dread filled her from head to toe at the thought, and she let out a few more curses that she'd learned from her father's friends and contacts. He will – he has to. The head of Ravenclaw is duty bound to see to the safety of all of their students, she reminded herself. I've just gotta hold on 'til morning.
