(Poppy Pomfrey - PoV)
Gently shooing the young man out, I close the door behind him before shaking my head. He couldn't even wait a day?
Teenagers. Every year, they always make the same mistakes.
Ah, but they do have to learn somehow I admit as I tidy up the beds. And the ointment should clean Mr. Rivers little issue up. Hopefully the whole experience will teach him to be more careful about exactly what he puts his -
Hearing the door open again, I turn to see what brings him back again so quickly only to sigh as I catch sight of another new patient instead.
"Not even a day..." I mutter to myself.
A dark-haired first or second-year boy. Probably second-year, he looks familiar. Some sort of head wound, it looks like.
Two young girls and an older one accompany him. Ah, Dora. The Metamorph.
They look to be fine. Just the usual tagalongs, then. Ignoring them for the moment, I focus on the patient.
"Well, come on then. Pick a bed, let's get you looked at."
Head wounds...always the potential to be very nasty indeed...
Luckily, most wizards are incredibly hard-headed.
Less fortunately, I suspect that is why I am often so busy despite how easy most problems are to fix.
Gryffindors...
Shrugging, the boy walks over to the nearest bed. Hesitating a moment, he then moves three beds further down before taking a seat.
...Slytherins.
And Ravenclaws, I suppose.
Ignoring his likely paranoia, I begin casting the usual diagnostics. His lack of reaction is a good sign on that front, at least.
...
"Hmm," I can't help but tut. "Merlin, how did you manage this?" I ask, expecting the usual evasions. "Quidditch hasn't even started yet..."
The surface abrasions are obvious but not really a concern, a good Episkey or two should take care of those. The fractured skull is a larger concern, along with any potential brain damage...
"I got in a fight with a door."
...
"Young man, I try not to call students out on tall tales, but that is the sort of nonsense I expect from a Gryffindor. Slytherins used to be much better at lying."
Miss Bulstrode was no more believable last night, but when someone with her injuries gives you such a route lie it is an obvious demand not to press the matter. Even if her other lie was...
"What? I'm not lying! I got into a fight with a door!"
The boy nods, a satisfied look crossing his face.
"And I won, too."
His expression shifts into a frown as he begins muttering.
"Stupid door...making me bleed..."
"...Right," I reply neurally.
He certainly seems to believe it, and I admit it is far from impossible. Hogwarts has seen far more unusual things over the years.
Still, how does his brain look?
No brain hemorrhages, good, good.
His eyes widen.
"Phoe-" he starts, twisting his head.
"Hold still!" I demand, only stopping myself from reflexively grabbing his cracked skull at the last moment.
Idiot boy! I am almost done and would prefer not to start over.
"Right...Sorry. Phoebe! Was there any of the door left in the hallway?"
"Hpmh." No brain damage, he is just like this.
"No. I am pretty sure Professor Snape or someone vanished it at some point."
"Damn!"
A bone-mending charm fixes the boy's skull so that I can give him a right cuff upside the head for swearing.
"Ow! Wha- That's the opposite of healing!"
"I'm working on that. It would be faster if you were more cooperative."
"I am being cooperative!"
I shake my head.
"You are lucky you avoided brain damage during your "fight". I must ask, what is so special about the door that you risk all of this? Even going so far as to seek out the pieces after breaking it?"
I resume casting diagnostics as he answers, double-checking everything and ensuring my spellwork sets properly.
"Huh? Oh. I mean, technically nothing. It was just kind of there, you know? But it made me bleed. And I killed it. So I wanted a trophy..."
I pause for a moment in my casting as it finally clicks.
Merlin's beard, this is what I get for missing the Welcoming Feast. All because some idiot sixth-years got into an argument over a girl on the Express and hexed each other.
"Oh, and I need the pieces to bring it back so I can kill it again. That reminds me, does Reparo count as necromancy?"
...
Giving up on casting entirely for the moment, I take a deep breath as I close my eyes and lower my wand.
"You are a Black, aren't you?"
"Yes! Coeus Black! Family Heir!" he announces proudly.
"Grandfather confirmed it. Speaking of, did you know that I actually do *not* have to try to assassinate him? I was really relieved to find that out."
...
Blacks...
That is a good sign though. Puts him at least a step above Bellatrix.
"I don't suppose I have you to thank for Miss Bullstrode "falling down the stairs" last night?" I ask.
"Who? Whatever. No, I don't think so? I am pretty sure I haven't thrown anyone down the staircases yet."
I sigh even as I notice Miss Tonks...Black? palming her face behind him.
"Yet. Of course he says yet," I mutter to myself. "Never mind the fact he wants to make that particular excuse true..."
It is already used far too often for injuries that obviously don't match up, the last thing I need is more students being thrown down the stairs on a regular basis. Never mind the actual accidents.
Sighing once more, I resume my casting.
"Almost done, Mr. Black. Please try to avoid fighting any more doors in the future-"
"That's why I wanted to make an example of it."
Black logic. Just don't question it.
"...And please don't send too many students to me."
"That's fine. I really want an excuse to feed them to my trunk anyway," he tells her before pointing to a corner, where it sits.
I never even noticed the thing come in.
...
Feed them to his trunk?
"...Please send students to me rather than do anything truly irreversible to them," I correct.
"Meh," he shrugs as he slides off the bed and stretches.
"We are good, right? We are going to go visit Hagrid's to fight giant monsters or something."
I take a deep breath before looking at Dora, who shrugs.
A shrug?! Girl! They are first years! You...!
I shake my head.
On your head, so be it.
"I expect I will be seeing you soon, then."
"Oh? Do you do the tax...thing? Make trophies from like, Troll heads and stuff?"
"...No."
(Iris Potter - PoV)
"Phoebe," Dora finally speaks.
"Hmm?"
"Phoebe."
"Yes?"
"...You are such a bitch."
Standing outside of a small paddock, we stare at the golden-coated baby unicorns.
"A glorious bitch. But a bitch."
"I love you too, big sister."
Hagrid was surprised to see us knocking at his door, but was more than happy to show us his latest rescue from the forest.
Unicorn foals.
"Poor lil' things," he muses next to me, ignoring Dora and Phoebe. "Somthins jus started hunting unicorns in the forest. Killin em. Were lucky ter find most o' this lot jus' a couple nights ago. Got to em before whatever it is did. Too late for 'ere mum, though."
He shakes his head sadly even as Dora and Coeus jerk around to look at him.
"What? Hunting unicorns?" Dora asks.
"Aye. Nasty business, that."
"No shit..." she mutters.
Phoebe suddenly staggers, blinking and looking around.
"Err..." I start to ask if she is ok before she interrupts.
"Hagrid, you may want to tell Goatbeard that whatever is killing the unicorns is immune to my sight...somehow..."
I suspect even Hagrid can see how pet...umm...upset, she is about this.
"...Goatbeard?" he asks hesitantly.
She nods.
"Wrinkleface. Wand Thief. Mr. Hides the Sausage."
She frowns.
"Please don't call him that last one to his face. I want to do it. His expression is great."
Hagrid blinks at her.
She rolls her eyes.
"You know who I mean. And Professor Fuzzyslippers can deal with it, we do not want to talk to him. Whatever. We are going to go play with unicorns!"
Grabbing my hand, she drags me with her as she squeezes through the fence.
"I thought you liked fuzzy slippers?" Dora asks, leaning over the top and looking down at us.
"Shut up! Unicorns!" Phoebe replies without looking back.
"Damn. She has a point..." I barely hear Dora mutter.
She and Hagrid begin talking as we make our way across the small field but I can't make it out. It's fine. There are more important things to worry about.
Like the golden unicorns nervously perking up and turning towards us.
I admit, they barely even look like what you would expect from unicorns. Not only are they gold, but they don't even have horns yet. You can see the spot where it will grow, but it apparently doesn't really even start to come in until they are three or four.
But there is no doubt about what they are. They are so...shiny.
They are a bit skittish at first, but the slow and cautious approach works. Phoebe makes me take the lead for some reason.
*Pet pet*
Good unicorn.
...
Where are Coeus and Dora?
Turning around, I see Dora and Hagrid just inside the fence, eyeing Coeus warily. Hagrid shakes his head as they watch Coeus...argue with(?) the biggest unicorn, the one turning silver.
...
Everyone winces when it headbutts him, knocking him across the clearing.
At least it didn't use its (very small) horn?
Phoebe stands up beside me, carrying her unicorn.
What?
Uhh...
I glance over at my own (larger) partner.
She...he...it(?) looks back at me.
"Sorry, no way I can pick you up. Let's follow them?"
I guess it understood, as it follows. Or it just followed me anyway. One of the two.
Phoebe walks over to Hagrid and Dora as they are trying to convince Coeus to leave the silvery unicorn alone.
"Don't bother," she tells them. "This is what he wants."
"What?" Dora asks.
Phoebe opens her mouth and hesitates.
"I...I wanted everyone to get a different kind of 'training'. But..." shrugging, she turns around and walks away.
"Phoebe?" Dora calls after her but is ignored.
"Merlin damnit..." she mutters.
...
"Unicorns."
Looking up, I find Daphne and Tracy watching us from the fence.
"I was not expecting unicorns," Daphne admits.
She exaggeratedly glances at Coeus.
"But, of course, Coeus still manages to start a fight. Why is it not a surprise that even unicorns want to hurt him?"
Dora laughs.
"He does have that effect on people, doesn't he?" she says.
She has her back to them, however, so I don't think they realize that her words and laughter don't reach her eyes.
...
Dora is the unicorn's favorite, of course. They ran right up to her and she has been entertaining them with her transformations while keeping a close eye on Coeus.
Phoebe is the opposite, quietly clutching at her unicorn and refusing to respond to or even look at anyone else.
The fact that Coeus doesn't reply to Daphne despite clearly being able to hear her as he circles his opponent seems to clue her in that something's up.
Frowning, she looks at Phoebe (who hasn't responded in any way) and then me before raising an eyebrow.
Looking away, I shrug and offer my unicorn another Sugar Quill, which she licks at lazily.
Sorry, I don't know what's going on. I figure they will tell me later.
Daphne and Tracy climb through the fence as I glance over at Coeus.
He is...training with the unicorn I guess? But it just feels...wrong.
We practice spells all the time and it is usually fun. Or...I dunno. Exciting? Like our bout with Dora. It was hard, but...
Watching him right now is...not nice.
The feeling they are giving off is serious. Focused. Like they are in an actual fight.
They are getting beat up pretty good too, even pulling their hits and spells. Both are limping and bleeding and Coeus is a mess of bruises.
Hagrid has started to step in several times, only for both Coeus and the unicorn to shake him off.
He is definitely going back to Pomfry after this. Didn't we just promise to avoid getting hurt or whatever? Does this somehow not count?
...I mean, I guess he is hurting something else too? A bloody unicorn!
That is totally ok with it.
...
I am so confused right now.
Robes flutter past me.
*Sqeee*
Blinking, I look over to see Tracy rolling on the ground with one of the smallest Uncorns in her arms.
Daphne sighs, watching her.
"So much for dignity and grace."
Tracy holds the unicorn in her arms out.
"Unicorn."
Rolling her eyes, Daphne sits down beside me, idly petting...my unicorn. They really need names...
"So," she begins, "w-Oh that is not even fair..." she complains once she actually touches her fur.
"I know, right? I wish my hair felt half that nice..."
Daphne nods.
"This. This must be why evil witches hate unicorns. Jealousy."
I nod in agreement.
"I can see it."
Sprawled out on my lap, my unicorn nudges my hand and I pull out another Sugar Quill.
"Sugar Quills?" Daphne asks.
I shrug.
"I have no idea what unicorns eat. I think horses like sugar so I figured, why not?"
"You could have asked Hagrid. He is right there."
I grimace.
"He is...kind of busy."
We both look over where he is carefully watching the...whatever is going on with Coeus.
We wince when a hoof takes him in the chest, throwing him back once more. There is a nasty-looking cut on the unicorn's leg as it walks back, however, and after helping Coeus up Hagrid begins fasting a bandage around its leg.
"Right. That," Daphne comments, looking over at me. "What?"
Sighing, I look down.
"I really don't know. They were fine, and then they weren't. Phoebe said not to mess with Coeus and then stopped responding. Coeus won't talk to anyone."
Daphne grimaces.
"Great," she mutters.
"Yeah..."
...
I snort, and Daphne looks at me.
"We came here for 'training'. Like, therapy training, I guess?"
I look around.
"I think we failed."
Pomfrey is not happy about how beat up Coeus is by the time we get back to her.
Didn't she say earlier that's what she was expecting to happen? I don't even know anymore. I just want to get back to our room so I can find out what is going on...
Cast cast cast.
...
I admit, Healers are pretty good. It would have taken me at least a couple of days to get over that, Pomfrey is done in a couple of minutes.
She says something about checking on me too but...no. No thank you!
Oh. Of course Dumbledore gave her my files...
...
No one tries to argue or stop me this time when I get up and leave.
...
...
"Ok, stop," Dora suddenly demands.
Our progress back to the dorms comes to a stuttering halt as we turn to face her.
She runs a hand through her (totally unfair) golden hair.
"Merlin damnit..." she mutters under her breath.
"Ok. So. I...don't know what the hell is going on right now. I..."
She sighs.
"I wanted to talk to you lot about last night but this obviously isn't the time. I won't press on either issue. Not if you don't want to talk about it."
...
"Right. Just..."
Looking away, she idly starts flipping her wand in her hand
"I'm here, you know? You have support. Someone who isn't like, crazy. Or evil."
Dora...
"And I'm not going to be a total bitch about it, I swear. I'm your sister, not a parent for fuck's sake."
...
"So...yeah. That's it, I guess."
She gives us each a hug before turning away.
Or starting to.
Phoebe reaches out suddenly, grabbing her hand.
"Come on," Coeus tells her as he turns around and leads us away.
The four of us enter our room. Not-Daphne dives forward onto the pushed-together beds, shifting back into...oh. No, she is copying me now for some reason.
Whatever. We all pile onto the bed anyway.
...
"Gotta admit, having the extra beds and stuff is pretty nice. Think I could grab one?"
"No," Coeus immediately refuses.
"Aww, why not?"
"Mine. Get your own. Also, Slytherin stuff. You're a Puff."
"Exactly. Don't you want to have Slytherin-themed furniture in Hufflepuff? Invade the other houses?"
...
"You can always get more, riiiight?"
"Fine," he relents. "You can have one."
It's very weird watching myself do an overly enthusiastic fist pump.
...
...
"It reminded me of mom," Coeus suddenly comments.
What?
"She died, and there was nothing we could do about it. It's not the same. Not even close, really but...the unicorns reminded me of it."
...Oh.
He shrugs, laying in between Phoebe and me.
"So I...I don't know. I found the oldest one, the strongest one, and talked to it. Told it...it doesn't matter. I figured we could practice a bit. Fight. And maybe, maybe, next time? He might have at least a slightly better chance."
"Coeus..." Dora begins before Phoebe speaks up.
"I'm sorry, Brother. I didn't look properly. I just wanted something...fun. Something little. After how busy everything has been..."
She grimaces.
"I did not expect visiting unicorns to somehow turn out to be a problem."
She sighs.
"Bloody backlash..."
...
"I just can't believe we failed unicorn therapy. Who does that?" I ask.
Dora snorts.
"Blacks, apparently."
...
"Did mom like unicorns?" Coeus asks.
"I have no idea," Dora admits. "I didn't know her at all. I don't think mum even knew her that well either."
She hesitates.
"Sorry, Coeus. But as far as I know, the only person you two can really talk to about her is probably Sirius."
...
"Phoebe."
Dora lets out an "Oof!" as Phoebe kicks her off the bed.
Or tries too.
"...It seems there are downsides to having so much space," Phoebe comments.
"Was that really necessary?" Dora asks, rubbing her(My? This is just confusing...) stomach.
"No," Coeus admits. "But it made me feel a little bit better."
Dora rolls her eyes.
"Careful, little brother, or I will get you a stuffed unicorn for your birthday. I bet it will kick your ass too."
"Phoebe."
This time Phoebe has a better angle and manages to kick her off the bed(s) entirely.