Disclaimer: I own very little.

Chapter Twelve: Opening Day

Working with Madame Pomfrey was almost more difficult than the classes I was enrolled in. Perhaps, being a medical wing assistant in itself was not so tedious, but working with Madame Pomfrey was quite the challenge. She was not necessarily a malicious individual, but she was most definitely a perfectionist, much like myself.

That last statement may not make much sense. Logically, one would think that two people with similar traits would get along well together, but life itself shows that those who are too similar should stay away from one another. I would rather that the nurse be a complete mess whom I could try to organize, but she is so very nit-picky in a very different way than myself. When I thought that I was doing something the correct way, the way that I would do something, then her idea of perfection was much different.

Even though this was true, somehow we survived each other's presence for nearly four weeks into the semester. I juggled my class work and hospital work as smoothly as I imagined I could essentially. One positive trait that Madame Pomfrey possessed was the simply fact that she was aware that both Holly and myself were students that needed some time at night to finish up our work. Therefore, she would allow us to leave some night, earlier than when we were expected to stay.

Surprisingly enough, the nurse was giving us more and more freedoms. We were even allowed to show our face outside of her crammed little office every now and again. I can honestly say that working in the hospital wing was starting to grow on me, especially since I was allowed to speak to the patients.

The statement that Charlie Weasley told me was growing more and more true the closer we came to the opening day of Quidditch. Excitement seemed to be growing amongst the student body and the hospital wing seemed to be filling up with more injured players. The houses had all picked their teams a week before and ever since then team captains seemed to be rushing their players into the hospital wing.

Plenty of times during the first week of practice, Madame Pomfrey would bark orders at Holly and I, who were simply labeling concoctions in the corner of her office, saying she needed "Skele-Grow" or some other type of paste to help ease pain or amend snapped bones. The more time passed, the more gruesome the injuries became…therefore turning my opinion more and more sour of the sport.

Nights before the first game, Holly and I were seated inside of the common room, studying for a potions exam. Holly is quite the intense student whilst studying. I always knew that she took school seriously, but never did I imagine how seriously she took tests. I couldn't help but chuckle periodically as she would test herself over various terms before breaking down, telling herself that she would never know all of the information she needed.

Many times, I thought that she was going to have a seizure because she was so nervous. Sure, some people would glance over and give a strange scowl before continuing about their conversation.

"What's the difference between a brew and a concoction?" She shot at me after nearly two straight hours of studying. Her voice was hysterical as she took off her rather large reading glasses. "I don't remember, Lana! Help me remember!"

I let out a deep sigh and slammed the book shut. I had wanted to stop an hour ago, in fact, I had never wanted to begin, but in order to please my friend, I agreed to this massive study session. Carefully, I slid my hand over and shut her notebook.

"Breathe Holly, just breathe," I said calmly before sliding the materials out of her lap as she slid off her glasses and rubbed her head, obviously breathing slowly.

"Lana, how am I supposed to do well on this exam if I don't know the difference between a simple concoction and brew?" She barked at me, still running her hands through her hair.

I shook my head and looked away before assuring her that she did, in fact, know the difference between the liquid mixture, brew, and simply the mixture, concoction. We even worked so hard as to come up with a saying to keep the two straight and ten minutes later, I assured her that she was as ready as she could ever be.

Finally, she slid off her glasses and folded them, placing them on the coffee table to put them well out of her reach.

" I can do this," She told to herself in a steady mantra. " I can do this. We can do this, we can do this."

I will not deny the fact that, had I not been her friend, then I would have had to chuckle at her. She appeared similar to some sort of an addict that was assuring herself that she could stay dry. Still, knowing her, I knew that her grades were important to her and it was not necessarily a laughing matter.

It's for this reason that whenever I heard a chuckle or two behind us that my insides began to boil. It seemed as though these, boys, had no sympathy for the girl who simply cared for her grades. At first, it appeared as though Holly was so caught up in her own world that she was oblivious to their mockery, but minutes after the breakdown was over, a silence hung in the air as the chuckles and mockery came to an abrupt halt.

She looked at me before inhaling deeply and looking forward.

Even through the silence, one of them had the audacity to say another comment in a high pitched, mocking tone," I can do this…I can do this."

I turned to look at the comedian between statements and he had even added a nice little hand pump to accentuate his mockery. It took everything within me to not tear over the couch, but I simply stood up and turned to look directly at the three boys, dressed in their dirty Quidditch robes.

The boy was immediately silent as I looked straight at him. I recognized him instantly as the boy on the train that wanted nothing more than to be on the team. Apparently, he had made the team and was trying to fit in with the others. He had not seemed like the type to be so rude when I spoke to him alone in the bookshop, but he hadn't even given me the time of day. I didn't know him, but it seemed as though something was array.

"You find something funny?" I asked, folding my arms over my chest, appalled at how rude they were being to a fellow house-mate.

Another boy swallowed hard and answered for the boy who Charlie told me was Oliver Wood, the boy who had been caught making the comment.

"No, we were just-" The other boy started, but I shook my head.

"I did not ask you," I said firmly, shaking veraciously on the inside. I looked directly at Oliver Wood. "Do you think something is funny? Because from what I can see all we are doing is studying."

"I-I," He spluttered, surprised that I would say something. "I'm-"

He could say nothing because a single noise broke all the conversation we could have had. Holly sniffled and it was as though her tear echoed through the entire room. My heart was nearly torn in two as she stood up and looked at the boy with tear-stained eyes before sprinting away, ignoring everything I tried to say to make her stay.

"You're sorry? Do you think that's suppose to make it okay?" I shot at the same group of boys who were immediately solemn.

"We were just joking first of all," Oliver said with a sudden urgency to his voice. "And secondly, you seem to be pretty bold for a first year."

I raised a brow at him, amazed at him once again. In a matter of seconds, my entire opinion of him had completely changed.

"First of all, she obviously doesn't think you were 'just joking'," I said to him before continuing on. " And secondly, maybe I'm not bold, but I simply care about others feelings. I don't think that has a specification based on year in school."

A chorus of "oos" were released as the look on Oliver's face dropped immediately. It appeared as though he was filled with regret, but I was more concerned with my friend who had already went through enough emotional turmoil for the night.

"Listen, can you just-" He tried to cover up, but I simply held up my hand and said.

"I think you've said enough," I answered before turning and rushing up the stairs to find Holly and be a comfort to her.

I heard the chatter of conversation pick up in the common room as the boys presumably were talking about what had happened. They probably had not meant to be as rude as they appeared, but anyone who took pride in their schoolwork would have found their banter to be offensive. Quite frankly, I couldn't spend much time making a case for them because I had a friend who was probably crying her eyes out.

Whenever I entered the dorm room, I found many of her belongings to be sprawled about on the floor and heard a loud, weeping sound coming from the wash room. I took a deep breath in again. Though their comments were offensive, I found this to be a little over-the-top. Still, I couldn't help but feel a little more resentment for the Quidditch boys.

Slowly and carefully, I picked up her belongings and piled them on her bed. There was no one in the dormitory, strangely enough, and I proceeded through the circular room to the wash room, where she was curled in the corner, under the sink, sobbing loudly. I proceeded through the room and bent down so that I could see the girl, a crying mess.

"Holly-" I tried, but she simply waved me off.

"Go away, Lana," She balled, rubbing her eyes.

I was silent as I leaned away and folded my legs up as I waited for her to calm down. I was not going to go anywhere, but simply wait for the storm to pass. After waiting for nearly a half an hour, her sobs were subdued as she spoke to me.

"Why do you even like me?" She asked, sniffling.

This was a very profound question for such a short notice. I felt as though I had to answer this question very carefully in order to prevent from losing a friend, whom I genuinely did care for.

"Because you are one of the most intelligent girls that I have ever met-"

She cut me off and laughed dryly," That's quite a feat, huh?"

"And because you are humble, nice and sweet. I haven't known you for very long, but already I couldn't have asked for a better friend to have, Holly. Those boys-"

"Don't talk about them please," She pleaded, her voice feeble and soft.

I swallowed hard, nodding," Some people don't have an appreciation for true jewels in life, Holly."

She blinked several times before looking at me with an innocent look plastered on her face," You really think that?"

It took me no time at all to nod and grab her hand," I know that."

A smile finally came to her lips as she rubbed her nose one last time. I could tell that all she needed was reassurance, like anyone else would have needed. The poor thing just wanted to be told that what they said wasn't true.

Slowly, she pulled herself out from under the sink and looked straight at me," Thank you for studying with me tonight, Lana."

As she stood up, I looked at her and said," You're very welcome."

Weeks later, the first game of the season had come upon us and as the other students were allowed to go and watch the festivities, Madame Pomfrey had required that Holly and I stay in the hospital wing. I had argued with her for quite a long time about this, but she finally grew tired of hearing me and threatened to kick me out of the hospital wing.

Sure, I may not have liked the atmosphere one hundred percent of the time, but the trivial problem was not worth getting fired from the hospital wing. It was starting to become more positive.

I remember the day very clearly. There were few patients in the wing and Holly and I had been allowed to sit out in the main area, looking through the tall windows to see if we could catch a glimpse of the fields, but both Holly and I knew that the establishment on the other side of the campus was not clearly visible from the hospital wing.

I sat on a stool, picking at my nail while Holly tucked her legs up in the chair and spoke to me," Who do you think is going to win?"

"Well, I've heard that Hufflepuff is pretty good," I said in a monotone voice, bored out of my mind.

"So have I," She answered simply.

I did, mentally, try to focus on the positive fact that she and I would not have to suffer through the pain of seeing the boys who had caused her so much emotional strain.

Several minutes passed and Holly and I continued with the mundane conversation we had been having. Madame Pomfrey came in and out, sometimes barking orders at us, but it felt as though no time had passed since the last time she had spoke to us when she was running to the front doors that had violently been thrown open.

Holly and I instantly jumped from our positions and looked to the swarm of gold and red robes bringing in their fellow player.

"Girls, go into the office and grab the Skele-Grow and pain-relieving paste! Quickly!" She yelled at us before escorting the group to the nearest bed. We nodded, not daring to disobey her, but as Holly ran off to the office, I snuck one look to see just who had been injured so quickly in the first game of the season.

Oliver Wood, the boy who wanted nothing more than to be on the team and who had broken my good-friend's spirits lay unconscious on the bed.

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! Let me know what you guys think :D