Search for The Cure Open

Amara walks into the library keeping her head down. She was embarrassed to be seen in Slytherin green and was looking for safety in the comfort of books. She glances around looking for a quiet spot or a group of Ravenclaws she could befriend. Her eyes are not drawn to either of those things, but rather to an older Slytherin girl. Amara eyes the stack of books next to the girl and smiles thinking about how she could help.

Amara straightens her robe and walks over to the girl. As she walks, Amara notices others staring at the older girl. She is not a very confrontation based person she she looks down and quickly scurries over to the girl. When she gets closer, Amara notices the marks and quietly gasps, "What is that?" she mutters. Amara than looks at the stack of books trying to figure out what is going on. After a few moments of this, Amara takes her Hogwarts: A History book out of her bag and sits down next to the older girl waiting for her to notice Amara. She tries to start reading but her eyes keep traveling back to the marks causing Amara to close her book and speak up, "Would you like help?" She asks trying to sound confidant.

@Illowy Magnard | @Amara Dragamior

Bridget had not expected her second year of Hogwarts to go like this. She'd never even considered the possibility of being cursed by the bite of a spider (or whatever it was) and visiting the Hospital Wing weekly to stop the dark magic from spreading through her veins, causing her excruciating pain, and eventually killing her. How could she have known she was about to be given a curse no one knew the cure to? As it was, Bridget wasn't going to just sit by, do nothing, and live the rest of her life this way. Even if her search was desperate, pointless even, she was going to try.

Admittedly, Bridget hadn't been doing as much 'trying' as she would've liked. Between Quidditch practice and her homework taking forever due to an utter lack of concentration, she hadn't exactly had time to dig through the library. Plus, part of her was scared to start for fear there was nothing to find. She wasn't ready to face the reality of there being no cure whatsoever. It was a stupid mindset, of course, as she'd never know for certain unless she looked, but it had been effective in preventing her perusal of the Hogwarts Library. Now, though, with nothing to do and a whole Saturday ahead of her, the Slytherin decided it was high time to start fixing this.

Entering the Library, Bridget's eyes flitted down to check if her glove was still in place on her right hand and the sleeve of her green hoodie was pulled down all the way, hiding the black veins. Since the night of the attack, she'd been careful to hide the curse. Between the discomfort seeing the blackness caused her and Bridget's hatred of people staring at her, it had been the logical thing to do. As far as the majority of the student body was concerned, none of her veins were black.

Not everyone was so lucky. Her hazel eyes landed on one such person, surrounded by stacks of books. Illowy Magnard, just the girl she'd hoped to see. Even from where Bridget was standing a good distance from the other second year, blackened veins reaching up to her cheek were visible. And the thing that made Bridget mad? People were staring. They couldn't help it, of course. You didn't see someone with such scars every day, or ever really. But it wasn't fair after what Illowy and all the other afflicted Slytherins had been through that night. All the pain, all the fear, all the uncertainty going forward. Now unwanted attention was added into the mix.

Her usually emotionless expression taking on a hint of hard anger, Bridget strode over to where Illowy was sitting. Another girl, a Slytherin as evidenced by the robes but not one she'd seen before, was sitting at the same table. This student, a first year probably, couldn't stop staring either. Her eyes kept flicking to Illowy's scars.

"It isn't polite to stare, you know," she said coldly. Bridget wasn't friends with Illowy, not yet anyways, but she wasn't going to stand some ignorant first year who couldn't keep her eyes to herself. Sliding into one of the seats, Bridget, heart pounding a bit harder than usual, tugged off her glove. There, now the black curling through the veins of her hand and down her fingers was visible. Illowy wouldn't have to be the only one being stared at.

Now ignoring the first year (apart from one nervous glance to see her reaction), Bridget addressed Illowy. "How can I help? Do you want me to help you go through those," she gestured to the unread books, "or go get more books that could be related?" While she waited for the answer, she pulled a notebook, ink pot, and quill out of her satchel, setting them on the table's surface. The only indication of her self-consciousness was the tapping of her quill against the table, but otherwise she was made of stone and happily pretending the staring people, first year sitting at the same table included, didn't exist.

@Illowy Magnard @Bridget Collins

Amara looks at Bridget and at Illowy, her cheeks start to flush and her hands begin to tremble. Amara takes a sharp breath to calm herself before replying to the newest arrival at the table. "I'm trying to figure out what it is" Amara says trying to keep all traces of annoyance and fear out of her voice"I am not and have no right to judge"

Amara looks back down at her book before closing it. Amara sighs and looks up, "Amara Dragamior by the way" She then touches her cheek and her eyes flash a darker shade of green before she goes to grab her bag to pull out makeup wipes. She rubs the wipe across her face to reveal a large, jagged scar running from her eyelid, through her lip and ending at her jaw. Instead of saying anything, Amara puts everything back into her bag and goes to grab the topmost book of the pile. As Amara begins to read, she glares at Bridget, "Again, no right to judge"

Amara licks her lips and starts to take notes while reading the massive book. She ignores all looks from those around her a focuses solely on her research.

Illowy was hardly someone who was totally oblivious to the world around her, she was very well aware that there were eyes on her; which had been the reason she'd chosen to hide herself away in a corner to attempt to avoid curious eyes. That plan hardly seemed to work to her advantage though as a first year she recognized from Slytherin house approached her, taking a gasp as she questioned about Illowy's face. The older snake visibly tensed.

Normally, Illowy kept quite a fondness for first years. They were innocent, naive, and still starry-eyed about finally being at Hogwarts. However, between the bluntness and the girl's eyes still boring into her, Illowy chose to stay quiet and try to keep her focus, in hopes the girl might relent. No such luck as the girl then asked to help. The older girl hadn't the chance to respond when a familiar voice caused her eyes to finally lift from the pages of her reading.

"It isn't polite to stare, you know,"

Bridget spoke, settling herself in a seat with them. In many ways, Illowy related to Bridget; mostly in her ability to be dead cold to anyone when she saw it necessary. Out of all the other Slytherins, she was sure Bridget was the one she felt closest to; not that that was saying much considering Illowy wasn't very close to anyone. It came as an even greater show of camaraderie as the other brunette stripped herself of the gloved she'd been using to hide her own black scars. It may have seemed like a small action to most, but those in Slytherin who had been attacked all seemed to hold some sensitivity over the marks left in the curse's wake. It had become an unsaid rule not to out anyone who wished to hide their marks; and for Bridget to expose her scars in solidarity to Illowy who couldn't hope to cover them, it was a comforting gesture.

Her dormmate hardly seemed about to make a big deal of it as she inquired casually if she might be of any help, getting herself set up for an afternoon of hard studies and research. However, once more Illowy wasn't able to get a word out when the first year interrupted once more as the younger snake argued her intentions and introduced herself; revealing her own facial scar. Not that it meant anything to her.

Illowy was reputationally short to anger. Though she tried her best to quell it for the sake of the girl being younger then them, it didn't stop the coldness in her voice, "Intention isn't worth a knut." the snake lifted her gaze to the younger girl. It was commonly said that Illowy, with her icy blue eyes, had a gaze like a ghost; scarcely looking at you, and more like through you, "And do not compare your childhood mishap with an attack on the entire Slytherin House. Especially not to those who are still paying for it. It is not the same thing." she spoke firmly, lecturing more then actually scolding.

For some in Slytherin house, they hardly felt the effects of the attack, having hidden or even slept through the ordeal. For others, it was the scariest night of their lives. Kids were hurt, badly. Some were night dealing with a curse that no one knew the cure for that, if left uncured, would eventually kill them. Being one of the worst off, having already nearly died the night of the attack, Illowy expected she'd be among the first to succumb if they didn't do something about it quickly.

Amara hates being told of and belittled and that is the way both of the older snakes are treating her. They have no right to be rude or expect little of her, ”A childhood accident” Amara sets her book down and snorts, ”I have no idea about this attack you are referring too but I know how it feels to be unfairly judged by those who are supposed to be on your side” Amara takes a deep breath and traces her scar, ”My birth mother did this to me when I was five, and the only reason I was staring was because i think the marks make you look beautiful”

Amara shakes her head at herself and goes back to her book. She is used to others thinking she is odd but these girls hurt her the most- they are supposed to be her Hogwarts family and while Amara understands how she may of oversteps she wished the older Slytherins would just ask her to leave if they wanted to be alone instead of being cruel. Amara starts to understand why other students avoided this table in the first place, there reputation must proceed them. And than it hits Amara, she will get the prejudice because of her house.

@Illowy Magnard | @Amara Dragamior

The ignoring act worked quite well for a while, at least. The first year continued to talk and Bridget didn't react. She was listening, since in an otherwise quiet library there wasn't any avoiding that, but with her head turned away from the girl, she missed any looks sent her way. The most useful thing she learned was the girl's name, saving her from referring to her as the 'first year' for the rest of the conversation.

When Illowy addressed Amara, though, it was clear she couldn't just pretend the younger girl wasn't there. Plus, the second year hadn't gotten the chance to answer her question, so there was no getting to work. Turning to face Amara, the only indication Bridget had noticed the scar running across her face was a slight raising of her eyebrows. She hadn't been expecting that revelation, but as Illowy pointed out, it was different. Her scar, although just as visible when she wasn't hiding it, didn't threaten to kill her every week if she didn't get treatment.

"This has nothing to do with looks," she said. Well, it did a little, what with the measures she took to hide the scars, but whether or not the marks were beautiful was the least of her concerns. What Bridget didn't want was attention or sympathy. She didn't want to relive that horrible night by having to explain, and at twelve years old, she wasn't trying to impress anyone, anyways."Not sure how you missed it, but our Common Room was attacked. Plenty of our housemates were bitten. Now we're trying to find the cure before the curse kills us. So I'm sorry if your birth mother was creepy and decided to mutilate you, but that's not what we're researching." That was the short version of the story, and if Amara hadn't heard of it yet, there would be plenty of gaps, but it at least made her point. Amara returned to reading her book, temporarily, at least, and Bridget took the free moment to divide the notebook's first page into two sections, the first labeled 'curse' and the second 'cure'.

Amara gasps softly and mutters a swear in french under her breath. She had recently transferred because of a family emergency that kept her at home for most of the school year so she had no idea about the curse. She drops her head and realizes why the older girls were being so standoffish, they had been attacked. She runs her finger over her חַי necklace, the Jewish symbol for life. Part of Amara wants to be angry at the way the older serpents keep looking down on her, but she knows that this is not the time to be angry; at least not at them.

"I'm so sorry. I truly had no idea" Amara says daring to look up, "I should not have been so flippant towards either of you. I can go if you want, or stay here silently or help with the research." Even though Amara knows she should just go she feels an urge to stay and help. Even if she does not become friends with the second years, Amara does not want to be on their bad side either.

Even though she should feel the opposite, Amara suddenly feels exposed without anything covering her scar. It had been years since she had let it go uncovered with anyone outside of her imminent family. She traces it again before she grabs a small mirror and bottle of foundation to start reapplying. When she finishes, Amara hands the bottle over to Illowy hoping that she sees it as a peace offering.

The younger girl attempted to explain her marking, but it was of little interest to Illowy. Everyone had their own traumas, it made no sense to use them to try to one up someone else as to who had it worse. In her own short years, Illowy's father had attacked their entire family with his pack, her werewolf cousin was literal inches away from killing her, the year previous she'd had her first incident involving a dementor, and now the attack on Slytherin. Everyone had their baggage, but Illowy wasn't about to be the person to fling her's out for everyone to see. Trauma attracts pity and she was a Magnard. Margnards do not accept pity; that's what her mother always said.

But especially with the happenings of the Slytherin House still being so fresh, she wasn't about to accept someone trying to compare or compete with what had happened, "I don't align with any sides. Just with those individuals worth it." she spoke before her eyes flicked to Bridget. How could the first year see them as beautiful? All consuming darkness was hardly beautiful...

At least she wasn't made to be at liberty to dismiss their beauty or explain the situation. Bridget took care of that well enough on her own. That certainly seemed to bring the first year up to speed as she apologized. Illowy only replied with a shrug, "You can do whatever you want..." her voice softened. Frankly, though she'd argue to the ends of the earth if someone called her out about it, she didn't have the energy to argue anymore. Since the attack, and in spite of the medicine, she was still left sluggish and weaker then she'd care to admit. She could only assume it was in reaction to the poison in her veins, but the Thick Golden Potion helped at least.

Her attention went back to Bridget, "I've already gone through these and found nothing." she explained, gesturing to the shorter pile of books to her right, "I havn't even found a footnote yet mentioning anyone even close to what we're looking for... you don't think there might be something better in the restricted section do you?" not that she knew how to even access the restricted section, much less nevigate its aray of magical and occasionally violent literature.

Even though Flash would normally have sought out a spot by Slyvain in order to enjoy some peace and quiet in the library, he needed quick access to quite a few of the library resources, so it was easier to just stay with the general public. Gratingly, they buzzed with annoying chatter despite the clear rules to stay silent. It was of little consequence, Flash had learned the ability of tuning others out, though it was still in its novice stages.

Because of that, and the key words ringing past his filter like the cocktail effect, Flash had begun to eavesdrop on the conversation held between the three other Slytherins. He didn’t really know who they were, nor did he care that much. As it happened however, they were researching the same things he was. The older girls he recognized by face but not by name, since he was one of the boys who helped carry the infected to the infirmary. The eldest had the black icor creeping up her face, a chilling reminder of what was at stake. When Flash thought of the black poison crawling through Opeila’s veins, he felt a revulsion so strong as to make him nauseous. The screaming and crying was still fresh in his mind. He could still remember the way her body contorted in pain, convulsing as though anything could be done to lessen the agony she felt.

Flash involuntarily gripped his cloak in a balled up fist. The first year hadn’t been there. She had no idea how painful her words were, how much the others had been through that night. It wasn’t her fault for not knowing better, but it still felt like submerging a cut into a saline solution.

Originally not intending to say anything at all and simply study independently, Flash was goaded on by the oldest ones’ words. All of them were ready to help, but they didn’t have the same resources that Flash did. For his birthday that year, Burnett had introduced him to a magical room. Though he didn’t quite understand how it worked with perfect clarity, he did realize that the selection of books within changed depending on what he needed to learn more about. That day, it had quite a few tomes on curses, hexes, and poisons. He had a good ten books stacked by his side, ones that the library didn’t have.

Flash stood up to draw attention to himself properly rather than butting in out of nowhere. Normally he would start with introductions and formalities, but he didn’t have limitless time. He had much more reading to do. Instead, he bowed slightly, the smallest possible gesture of asking to be acknowledged.

”I don’t want to intrude, but feel free to page through my books as well. I’m doing the same kind of research, as it turns out.” Flash sat back down promptly. He was sitting in front of them, and gestured lazily to the stack. ”Some books that aren’t in the library.”

Having done his due diligence, he returned to the book he was currently looking through.

@Illowy Magnard @Bridget Collins @Amara Dragamior