"Look at him." Someone was whispering about them again. Not again. Every day, every hour, again and again and again and again and again just people talking about them and saying how weird they are, how wrong, how DIFFERENT.
They just want to mind their own business. They gave up on friends what feels like years ago but was more like two days. It was actually easier when they weren't trying to talk to other people, but they were still very lonely already.
And it wasn't just loneliness that was a downside of not having friends. No one was there reminding them that they should be doing this or that or going to bed now or, and this might have been the worst, eating. They kept forgetting to eat and they'd start feeling faint in classes and then it would be even harder to concentrate in classes. This had happened twice in as many days and they didn't know how they kept forgetting. They just sort of didn't notice when everyone went to eat. And when they did remember to go to the meals they always couldn't eat much because they just felt sick a lot of the time when confronted with the rich food that was provided at every meal.
They kept getting lost, too, and people would stare at them when they walked in late with mumbled apologies and sat at the first empty seat and stared at the desk and their parchment red faced as they heard the person in the chair next to them shuffle to the side a little to get away from the weirdo. And when they weren't avoiding them, they were talking about them, or very loudly and slowly to them, and they found it hard to concentrate on the words when the tone was so odd and what did they even mean when they were saying friendly words and it was in a friendly sort of tone (at least, they thought that was a friendly tone) but yet whenever they tried to answer the questions they got laughed at.
They'd thought that after the journey to Hogwarts, they had a friend in Fitz, at least. That was something, right? Fitz had been nice, and had really helped them when they panicked by the boats (the water was dark and they were cold and the boats looked like they weren't completely stable), so they'd sort of thought that Fitz had liked them, and even if the other Ravenclaws didn't like them much, they weren't exactly without friends completely.
But after the sorting they hadn't spoken to Fitz again. They had a few lessons that Fitz was in, though they didn't know all of them because they hadn't had a week of lessons yet, but they'd been late so frequently that they'd never dared to look for the seat Fitz was in and then sit next to him. Fitz probably had real friends, anyway, and he wouldn't want to hang around with someone like them. And they hadn't even tried to go up to Fitz and talk to him, they didn't want to inflict that on themselves. Didn't want to face rejection from someone who they thought could potentially care.
They just tried to block all the people out when they heard them talking about them. It was the only thing they could do.
;';';';';';';';
Blocking people out was a bad idea. Ignoring people was a bad idea. They knew that now.
They hadn't processed the people who had been following them around all day. They hadn't processed that constantly they were talking about them.
They didn't see the people closing in from all sides. They didn't hear them talking about who would punch where and when they would attack.
They didn't pay attention one of the times when it was very important and now they ended up here. A fist to the stomach before they saw the owner. A kick to the knees and they were on the ground. Their arms pinned behind their back as they struggled with no result. One person grabbing their head and another with a punch to the nose. And when they were done with blows to the legs and their hands and stomach and back and face and it felt like everywhere was in pain and something was bleeding but they couldn't pinpoint what yet (a quick touch to the face revealed it was blood from their nose), they left them lying on the floor of somewhere they couldn't quite remember where they were. And they were laughing as they left. Laughing.
They felt a swell of magic inside of them, an odd feeling that they had learnt by now to pinpoint and control. They wanted to let it wash over them because they knew that with it the pain would be forgotten, but they didn't know what else would go with it, so they held it back. They didn't want to be alone and without memory for any length of time for any longer.
When they calmed down, they found they could remember exactly where they were and how they could get back to Ravenclaw Tower, which was a huge relief because they wanted to collapse and sleep and maybe cry a bit if they could do it quietly enough, without attracting the attention and mockery of the other students.
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Getting back to the Tower was difficult, and scary, they were just so terrified that someone was going to come out and attack them again, and they wouldn't be able to get up or hold back their magic and everything would be ruined and they wouldn't have even made it to the check up from St Mungo's after two weeks. That would be a complete failure on their part.
When they got there, they realised how difficult it was going to be to climb up all the steps in the tower. Something must be damaged inside, because they can't breathe properly and that is not good for climbing stairs. They must look a bit of a mess, too. They might get in trouble for not defending themselves properly. Was that something you got in trouble for? They didn't remember.
It was difficult, getting up the Tower. The stairs were steeper than they remembered, especially with the fast developing limp favouring their left leg. Everything hurt a lot and it was difficult to think past lying down and attempting to sleep. That was the goal here. They could sort out the injuries from there, probably. It wouldn't be too hard. They hoped that they didn't have to go to the healer, especially before their appointment with the St Mungo's person. But if they were satisfied that they were doing okay they would probably only come once. Though they still had no idea where they were going when school wasn't on.
There were people who stared while they were taking the horribly slow route up the stairs. But no one stopped them and, surprisingly, no one seemed to be talking about them this time. Whenever they did anything to pass people they seemed to hear whispers about them all the time. It could easily have been their imagination, but they didn't think so.
When they reached the top, the riddle to get in was unusually easy. But they may have just been expecting it to be difficult, because they'd never actually had difficulty with it before they may have just been expecting it to be difficult when it was least convenient.
Still no one tried to stop them, even as they limped through the common room in plain sight of anyone who could have been concerned or wanted to stop and tease them or even gloat.
Now they thought about it, they couldn't think of a reason why anyone would have attacked them. They hadn't done anything to offend anyone, at least they didn't think so, they'd just been minding their own business with no friends. They'd hardly even spoken to anyone. They hadn't done anything to provoke anyone to hurt them...
They collapsed into bed and slept and just desperately hoping that they'd remember that last month or so when they woke up.
They did, and felt just as wretchedly miserable as they had when they went to sleep.