The Aftermath Closed

Well this was certainly a new one.

As hard as he tried to remember, no specific moment where Søren paid a visit to a hospital patient came across his mind. He truly had no idea when was the appropriate time to visit, what he should bring or what he should say. To make matters worse, the confusion was magnified by the guilt he felt towards the patient in question. Merlin, he really wished he could talk to his parents right now. As aloof as they were towards him, they would be able to tell him the right thing to say, at least. Not before scolding him for being unable to come up with curated gift idea, though. It was possible to owl them, but he decided not to. Instead, he would hopefully stand on his own two feet and face this situation head on.

He still needed a few gifts to soothe the blow though.

His first choice was, obviously, coffee. He was sure Anastasia loved nothing more. She would marry a cup of it if she could. It was unsurprisingly hard to find the drink of choice at dinner. The staff were probably looking out for the health of the students. That, or they didn’t want the kids up late again lest another Blossom Ball fiasco take place. Frightened of the thought, he sought out a house elf and was able to obtain a mug of coffee in the style that Ana liked most. At least, the style he remembered her liking. His interactions with her since returning from her trip were sparse, so he was unsure if her preferences had changed. Still, it couldn’t hurt to go with what he remembered.

Girls liked flowers, right?

His sister would have slapped him for that generalization, but he was sure that flowers were a thing people brought during hospital visits. A trek around the Grounds came up empty, so he asked one of his second-year friends to cast Orchideous. They asked what he wanted the bouquet to look like and he chose roses, because Ana seemed like that kind of person. He learned that different colours of roses mean different things, so the bouquet consisted of yellow and pink roses; yellow for their friendship and pink because she was absolutely a pink person.

With the coffee, bouquet and a fresh plate of bangers and mash from the dinner table, Søren made his way to the hospital wing. Spotting Ana before she noticed him, the boy froze in place. The guilt he had been trying to subdue since hearing about Ana’s fate at the ball bubbled up all at once. If only he had stayed around four a couple more minutes, he would have been able to see her go up in flames and try to help. Instead, he ran like a coward as soon as he could, leaving the destruction behind him. The rows of hospital beds filled with ball-goers did little to ease him.

Before he could contemplate running away again, Ana locked eyes with him and he knew he was trapped. Accepting the situation, Søren approached her cot. “H-hey, Ana. Here, I brought you some things,” he said, displaying the objects in his hands. Placing the food and coffee on the bedside table and standing in front of it to conceal them from the nurse, he offered the bouquet first. “Redundant question, but I’m going to ask anyway: How are you feeling?” he asked with a soft voice, one he was not accustomed to using at Hogwarts. “Have you tried bangers and mash before? I didn’t before I came here and let me tell you, it's amazing. So I picked up some for you from dinner. I heard hospital food is bad. Oh, and I brought some coffee too!” he gushed a little bit, eyes and smile kind, but sad.

@Anastasia Beckett

Ana smiled slightly when Søren approached and hoped that she didn't look half as terrible as she felt. That wasn't saying much, seeing as she felt spectacularly bad and as long as she didn't look like roadkill, she wouldn't look half as bad as she felt. Absently, she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, and subsequently aware of the fact the hair was down and loose with no trace of the elaborate updo she had been sporting when she had passed out. Not even so much as a hair pin. That weirded her out more than it probably ought to have. Combined with the fact that her hair was remarkably untangled - her normal bedhead was worse than this - she half wondered if there had been someone who had brushed out her hair or something. That was creepy. She knew that her house elf back home could style hair with a snap of her fingers, so maybe it was one of the Hogwarts elves. There, that was less creepy.

She pushed herself up further and noticed two things. One was she was wearing an absolutely horrid hospital gown. Honestly, she would never chose to be seen in something this ugly. She made a mental note to ask the nurse for a sweater or something, or maybe sneak out and get something to go over this because it was positively terrible. She felt rather self conscious about having to talk to people wearing this nasty garment. It wasn't even a vanity thing, or a concern that she looked particularly bad in it - she knew she could pull off a potato sack if needed flexes lovely creature- it was more how exposed she felt. She would never talk to anyone if she was in her sleepwear, and this horrid scrap was more thin and flimsy than her pajamas. The second and probably more important was a shooting pain in her side. That was new. Based on past injuries, if she had to guess, she'd say she broke something, most likely a rib. How she had done that, she had no idea. It didn't feel as terrible as past breaks, but she assumed it was in the process of healing, which wasn't much fun.

Still, other than a small wince, she managed to put on a somewhat brave face for her visitor. Her small grin widened at the familiar smell of coffee. Still, it didn't quite reach her eyes, which was likely something someone who had known her as long as Søren had would pick up on. "Oh, thank you! You didn't have to," she said. Her voice sounded absolutely terrible. The combination of screaming and smoke from the ball followed by two days of disuse make her normally smooth and sure voice a terrible rasp. "The flowers are lovely."

"I sound far worse than I feel," she said. That was a flat out lie. She sounded terrible, but felt about a million times worse. Still, she felt better than she had had the ball, which was something. She grinned again at her friend's exuberance. That felt nice and somewhat normal. The Gryffindor was not someone who was still long, she was almost always moving or doing something, so sitting helplessly in such a battered state felt so wrong to her. She was full of life and dramatic and expressive. This was terrible.

"I haven't, actually," she replied to his question about bangers and mash. "I've meant to since last year, but I suppose I never got around to it. And hospital food is always nasty, no matter where. And you are probably my favorite person at the moment, since I haven't had coffee in a bit."

She smiled again at him, before biting her lip slightly. She almost didn't want to know how long she had been out, but she knew she had to ask. Seeing as she didn't remember waking up before now, it was safe to assume she had been out since the ball. She just had to figure out how long ago that was. She supposed she could ask him what day it was, although that didn't much help if she'd been out for over a week. Still that seemed a safe place to start. "What is today by the way, Sunday?

Elspeth was walking to the Hospital Wing. In her head, she was pretending like she was walking toward the Charms classroom, like she was going to just go in and maybe hang out and float some feathers around in her free time. But she knew that her feet were taking her to the hospital wing. It had been a few days since the Blossom Ball, though in her mind it felt like no time at all had passed. "Anyone seen spare brooms! We need to get them to everyone!" the Hufflepuff player's voice rang out in her ears and the smell of smoke would curl its way back into her nostrils. "I'm coming! I've got three!" the sounds of spells popping off rang out like fireworks crackling and flashing around her.

She'd been running. Elspeth stopped in the hallway, her heart beating fast, chest heaving. There were only a few other students in the hall, and none had seemed to notice or care. Elspeth didn't care either way. Her nerves were so badly frayed from the whole experience that she was numb to her usual anxiety. All she felt anymore was the panic of her fight or flight survival instincts. The past few nights she'd barely slept, constantly waking up in a cold sweat and too afraid to close her eyes again lest the vision of that girl's burning body come back into clear focus.

The professors had offered to talk with any students who needed help after the event. But Elspeth hadn't spent any of her year getting to know them, and introducing herself before jumping into that traumatic event felt too vulnerable and terrifying a prospect. None of her roommates had gone to the ball, either, so those routes for conversation also felt blocked off. Not even Carolyn, who Elspeth KNEW would insist that she was always there to listen, didn't feel like someone she could go to. Nothing felt real anymore. Or, everything suddenly felt all too real - like the consequences and dangers of living were illuminated in a way she'd never seen before.

She didn't want to die.

Which is why, on this Tuesday, she found herself walking to the hospital wing pretending like there was anywhere else in the school she wanted to go to. She'd heard, while sitting in the Great Hall, unable to eat yet another meal, that the girl was a Gryffindor. Otherwise, she was a mystery. Whispers in the halls predicted the girl had burned down to ashes then re-emerged like a phoenix. That she'd been sent straight to St. Mungo's and locked up after trying to set herself back on fire. That her parents were the wealthiest wizards alive and were planning to sue Hogwarts for all it was worth. That this was all a conspiracy to distract from the fact that the headmaster hadn't been seen in months.

Elspeth had shaken off all of those rumors. She just needed to see the girl for herself. She needed to know that she was still alive.

The door to the hospital wing was slightly ajar, a nurse having just walked out and down the hall for something. She stopped in her tracks, realizing that she was right on the edge of seeing the vision of her nightmares in the flesh again. What if the rumors were true? There was a murmur from the stairwell, the low thrum of students making their way to or from dinner. No sounds seemed to emanate from the ward itself, save for a few coughs. Elspeth could hear her own breath, which was shallow and sporadic. Just do it. Just go and look. Go. NOW!

She willed her feet to keep moving until she found herself behind the door, able to peer in through the opening left by the nurse. Elspeth had never been to the hospital ward before. While there'd been an unpleasant cold that went around through January, the rest of her year had been uneventful in that way. Up until now, she'd been deeply grateful for that. Though, now, she found herself wishing she was slightly more familiar with the set up of the space. She didn't know if it was policy for students to come in and visit others, or if she had to wait for a certain time. You're probably at least supposed to know the person you're visiting. I don't think they just let just any old person walk in and press their face against the glass staring at sick kids. Which, fair enough.

It was only once she looked in that she realized, she didn't know what she was looking for. She'd seen the girl on fire, but had no idea what she'd look like put out. Was she tall? Would she still have hair (would it have burned off?). There were students in many of the beds recovering from blasts, burns, and bug related injuries. Elspeth tried not to stare at any one person for too long, but found herself drawn into the room, slowly walking in without really thinking about it. It was larger than she'd expected. Are this many students always in here? she wondered as she stared at the number of beds laid out in rows. The high ceilings gave the space a sense of air flow, which she appreciated as she found her throat constricting with nerves again. In. Out. In. Out.

There was a cough again, and Elspeth's eyes were drawn to its source. A girl, who looked to be a little older than her, was sitting up in bed and reaching toward a glass of water. The smell of smoke curled around her nostrils again. Her eyes deceived her, she could have sworn she saw the girl cough out a subtle but dark smoke with each exhalation. Elspeth's skin went cold as the hairs on her arms stood on end. What was she doing here? What was her plan? What was happening? Reality started to feel fuzzy again, like everything was slowly disintegrating. Internally she was imploding, though anyone looking at her would just see a small, quiet girl standing by the front door, looking at Ana. Another kid had walked up and the two were talking, but Elspeth couldn't hear any of the conversation. She just stood there, unable to look away.

Staring weirdly at @Anastasia Beckett

@Anastasia Beckett @Søren Silverwood @Elspeth Gollens

The amount of rumours spreading about Ana was absolutely ridiculous. From conspiracies about the Headmaster to phoenixes and St. Mungo's, Ivy thought she had heard it all in the past few days. Of course she tried to shut them down. She was quick to snap at anyone she found whispering about her doppelganger, although every time, the Gryffindor would falter at the demand for the truth. It had barely been a few days since the Ball. She didn't want to talk about it, least of all to the nosy gossips of this school.

Ivy had tried to visit Ana, of course, to talk to her about everything that was going on, but the older girl had been unconcious the last two times she had come to the Hospital Wing. Third time lucky, she had told herself as she climbed the stairs, although she had a feeling she was wasting her time and energy again. Luck never seemed to work on her side, that was for sure, but she had to have an excuse to leave dinner. A group of annoying Hufflepuffs had been pestering her for facts about the Ball, which was enough to drive anyone insane.

A girl (Elspeth) was standing in the doorway, much to Ivy's annoyance. "Can you move?" she asked grouchily as she approached. What did she think she was doing? She seemed to be rather spooked by something she was watching through the opening - or rather, someone. "Ana!" Ivy gasped, eyes brightening. She was awake! The second-year looked rather worn out and tired, although that could have been expected. She had been set on fire. She was entitled to look a little worse for wear.

Ivy threw the other girl a disdainful look, finally working out why she was here. Another Ana stalker who just couldn't wait to see the girl who had been burnt alive for themselves. What sadists. A surge of anger rushed through the Gryffindor's body - did they even know what Ana had been through? She was not an animal in the zoo or an attraction in the freak show! Just another gossip vulture, she thought to herself angrily. "It's incredibly rude to stare," Ivy said coldly. "Leave if you're not going to be of any help."

With that, she swept into the Hospital Wing, putting on a smile for her friend. "Hey Ana," Ivy greeted her, taking a seat next to the girl's bed. You're an idiot, but you're still alive. How the crap are you STILL ALIVE? "Glad to see you're awake." Ivy noticed that there was a boy sitting with Ana already, which irked her a little - ok, more than just a little. Why was it that everyone was obsessed with Ana nowadays? "Are those roses?" Ivy pointed out incredulously. "Are you kidding me?" What poor taste. It had been roses that set Ana on fire. Did this boy have any feelings? OOC: I'm so sorry, Søren. Ivy is mean.

Søren stopped himself from wincing when Ana spoke. He truly hoped she was telling the truth, because her voice was nothing like what he remembered from their previous meetings. It was like she had been screaming for hours on end and then some. The sound was uncomfortable to listen to. He couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to go through what she had at the ball. It was no surprise that her voice had felt its effects. As astute as the boy was, he could not pick up on her lie due to the conflicted emotions clouding his thoughts.

“I think I did have to. You sound like my grandmother, phlegm and all,” he laughed, “I’m glad you like the flowers. I’m not exactly the best at picking out gifts, much less ones for a hospital patient.” He plucked the coffee mug from its position on the bedside table and offered it to Ana. “Just keep the coffee and food hidden. I don’t think the nurse would appreciate it,” he warned, before processing what she had said about him being her favorite person. “Your favorite person only for the moment? I have some work to do,” he sighed mockingly.

He raised an eyebrow at her question and took a few moments to take in the extra depth in her voice and bags under her eyes: telltale signs that she had just woken up from a very deep slumber. “Wh-? Have you been out this whole time?” he was shocked, but somewhat thankful. He knew it was selfish to think like that, but the squabble of his guilt kept him far away from her cot and he was prepared to accept her disappointment for not visiting her sooner. Even though it was an insensitive thought, her temporary coma saved him from that feeling. “Today’s… ah… today’s Tuesday. The 28th. It’s been three days since the ball.”

A gasp turned Søren’s attention to the entrance where two girls stood, looking towards him and Ana. The one that looked like a carbon copy of the girl on the hospital bed was clearly ecstatic to see Ana awake and the other just stared with an odd expression. Ana’s clone approached the bed smiling and greeted her. Was he the only one who didn’t know that she was out cold for three days? To be fair, he did avoid any talk about the Gryffindor. When her name was first mentioned, he learned that she went ablaze, but he left that conversation as quick as he entered it. The fact that his friend was in trouble at the ball while he ran, or rather flew, as fast as he could back to the castle without looking back once caused embarrassment and guilt to flare. If only he wasn’t such a coward.

He was ripped out of his wallowing self-pity by the clone, who scolded him for bringing roses. His eyes widened and he tore the bouquet away from Ana. “Merlin, are you allergic to roses?!” he just couldn’t do anything right these days. Of course, he was unaware of the roses’ part in Ana’s accident. He fled the ball before any of it went down and his penchant for avoiding gossip about Ana did not do any favors in cluing him in.

Looking between Ana and the girl, he couldn’t fail to notice the similarity in their dubious looks. He had been on the receiving side of those from Ana in the past and the way this girl stared at him brought him back to the days where he and Ana pranced around pre-Hogwarts. “Has anyone… ever told you that you guys look alike?” It was a dumb take, but the boy’s mess of emotions turned him into a drunk state, his gaze mirroring the girl standing at the entrance to the hospital wing.

@Anastasia Beckett
@Elspeth Gollens
@Ivy Bellamy

It's fine, Ivy. Put him through the wringer!

As Ana spoke to Søren, she felt a tingle run down her spine, almost as though she was being watched. Of course you're being watched, genius, there's nurses who have to be, she tried to tell herself. Still, something felt off. Maybe she was on some sort of weird pain medication that was making her loopy. She didn't think that was something that happened often in the magical world, but she didn't know much about that. She hated injuries and, obviously, had never been injured this badly before. She supposed it was a family thing - any time she had had so much as a cold when she was younger, her parents would pretty much ignore her and leave her to be tended to by the house elves until she was better. Excellent parenting, Mr. and Mrs. Beckett!

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watching, and glanced around the room while Søren was talking about bangers and mash. Finally, her eyes fell on a dark haired girl (@Elspeth Gollens) that looked a bit younger than her who stood in the door way staring. Ana first wondered if she had something stuck to her face or if someone had thought it was funny to draw a mustache or something while she'd been out. That would explain the staring, seeing as she didn't recognize the girl. Then her tired brain reminded her that she had, in fact, burst into flames in front of most of the school. Who knew what rumors were flying around and how people had managed to make her near death about them? Based on the strange expression on the girl's face, Ana assumed that it was something along the lines of her second thought. Honestly, everyone at this school was so bloody self centered. Ana was the one who had nearly died and been unconscious for days, and quite frankly, she didn't much care about how it had affected this girl or anyone else for that matter. She had more than enough on her plate dealing with her own wreck of emotions and trauma. Still, she maintained eye contact with the stranger for a second before dryly arching an eyebrow at her (she hoped she still had eyebrows and that they hadn't been burnt off) and turning back to @Søren Silverwood .

"Good Lord, Søren, you can't tell me that I sound like your grandmother!" Ana teased, smiling a little more. "I'm in the hospital, you're supposed to be nice to me." As much as she mocked him for it, she rather loved the comment about his grandmother. It made her feel normal, like she was fine and teasing her friends as opposed to being very much not fine and stuck in a hospital bed. She winked as he suggested she hide the coffee. She would probably drink it fairly promptly, but she would just about bite a nurse or anyone who tried to take it away. "See, I think you'd be my favorite person longer if you didn't call me you grandmother." She stuck out her tongue slightly after she finished speaking before taking a sip of her coffee.

Her coffee was glorious and amazing and just one more thing that made her feel almost normal for a few moments. It vanished when she heard Søren say that it had been three days since the ball. How had she been out that long? That was more than a weekend! That was longer than it had taken her to fly from New York to Hogwarts! That was three entire days. So much could happen in a day. What had happened? Had that boy died? Had her parents been notified? Good Lord, how would she ever even begin to explain any of this to her parents? She hadn't died or anything, so she bloody well hoped not.

Ana heard her name and glanced at @Ivy Bellamy who had just taken a seat next to her. "Glad to be awake, I suppose," Ana said dryly. She wasn't so sure that was true, given the pain she was in, but she supposed this was slightly preferable to being in a coma until she was fully healed. Before Ana could say anything else, Ivy snapped at Søren for bringing roses. What was the significance of roses? Ana furrowed her brow for a moment, trying to connect several thoughts in her foggy brain. After a moment, it hit her. A different batch of roses, yellow and black and color changing, were what had started this entire mess. Oddly enough, Ana was more bothered by the heat from her blanket than the roses in front of her. Maybe it was the color or simply the fact that these roses simply didn't seem as evil as the ones at the ball, but she didn't feel as freaked as one would have expected.

"Oh, um- it's fine, Søren," Ana rasped. She so didn't have to energy to deal with a fight right now, and if she wasn't so grateful to Ivy for having tried to help her at the ball, she would have smacked her doppelganger. "And I really don't see any resemblance as I'm far better looking than her." Ana winked at Ivy as she said this. Seeing as they were just about identical other than their eyes and heights, that wasn't really a statement that made sense. Ana thought she was funny though.

»»————————-　♔　————————-««
mentions @Anastasia Beckett, @Ivy Bellamy,
@Søren Silverwood, @Elspeth Gollens
word count 1122 | text colour #274E13
abilities terrible presence | position at the foot of the bed
»»————————-　♔　————————-««

The Blossom Ball was a disaster. And that was putting it nicely. But as bad as the actual event was, the aftermath was even worse. As large and winding was Hogwarts halls and diverse the occupants, it seemed that almost all of them were entranced by the tragedy that had become of the unlucky under years. Rumours spiralled with every passing minute, growing more and more absurd as word passed from one to another, and there wasn't a single time that Astrea hadn't overheard badly-whispered gossip. And while Astrea had the luck to keep her head down and pretend she hadn't been too involved, many of her fellow participants hadn't been so lucky to escape the gaggles of children pandering for information. Like flies to honey.

Dinner was a cacophony of noise and sound and annoyance and naiveté. And while it seemed that Slytherin wasn't quite as upfront as some of the other houses, it wasn't as if the house was wholly uncaring. It wasn't as if there was a solid barrier separating from listening in on other's conversations. Between the constant buzz of chatter and food, it was almost impossible to find peace.

Astrea had not visited Ana since the other was whisked off to the Hospital Wing. A crawling sense of strange guilt seized her every time she entertained the idea, grasping at her mind and imagining only the worst of bad cases. No, Astrea had not visited Ana since the Blossom Ball. She did not want to see the other unconscious. The last time the Slytherin had glimpsed her fellow aristocrat was wreathed in flame, Ana was a pillar of heat and fire, a beautifully agonising parody of a phoenix's origin story. And somehow the Gryffindor had been extinguished and immediately willing to jump at another in some idiotic move that only worsened what was most likely already nauseatingly painful wounds. The sheer memory was enough to make Astrea wish a nicer fate for her companion. The girl did not deserve that treatment, that poor predicament.

But it had been three days and Astrea could not wait any longer for her own weakness to keep her from visiting the Hospital Wing. It was only the fact that not many people would miss her that allowed Astrea to slip out of dinner early without question and trail up the enchanted staircases to the third-floor halls. The left side of her body ached something fierce, a familiar soreness that only reminded the aristocrat of the last time she had been so aggressively flipendoed at the last S.W.A.G game. Only this time, there wasn't lingering grass stains to wash out and friendly congratulations.

Three days had past and great splotchy bruises had made its appearance upon Astrea's skin from where she had hit the floor hard and rolled in great upheaval of balance, a spillage of eggplant purple and blue upon white skin upon her left side as if someone had taken a pot full of ink and smudged it messily under layers of fabric. It wasn't bad, certainly in a perfect position to be easily covered up with her uniform alone, but that did not disqualify the fact that moving too heavily made her shoulder snarl in protest.

There was someone at the doorframe, shocked into still silence as they stared inward at something that Astrea could not yet glimpse. The knot of apprehension that plagued Astrea curled around her further as she silently sidestepped them and headed inside. There was nothing to say.

A spout of colour was the first thing that she noticed when she walked in. Yellow and pink. There were roses on the side table, sitting innocent and pretty in their vase. How insensitive. The bouquet of roses that had caused this whole ordeal had turned midnight black, a sea of shadow with a single yellow bloom. A sickly foreshadowing of garish light against the dark. The second thing she noticed were the other two people gathered around- perhaps it was a bad idea to come-, one familiar face and the other not so much. From the way that it seemed, Ana's clone had much the same of a problem with the roses- and for a good reason- from the way that it was brought up. She could only watch as the guilty party frantically tore the pile of flowers away from Anastasia, worked up about the possibility of allergy.

Even if Ana were not allergic, even if the male had no idea of the situation that had landed them all in the Hospital Wing in the first place, Astrea was sure that yellow roses to an injured party were not ideal. At least, according to her etiquette lessons they were not as pretty in meaning as they seemed, but perhaps flower language has changed since the last time that her tutor curriculum had been rewritten- after all, for frivolous things such as personal gift-giving it had stayed relatively the same since the late Victorian age. Rolling her eyes at the ignorance of the boy, she was more than content to allow- what was their name? Astrea direly needed to ask Ana's duplicate for that information, it felt strange to know that they had both attempted to work together to extinguish the incendio-of-a-person that her fellow aristocrat had become- to school the hulking boy.

And for the first time since the ball did Astrea finally see Ana, the whole reason why she had ventured up to the third floor, the whole reason why a heavy worry had weighed her down, the whole reason in which she debated in visiting so much so that she had contemplated writing Virgil for any semblance of advice. The Gryffindor looked strangely small sprawled out upon the bed, clad in a hospital gown with the skin upon her arms raw and pink. The fragrant aroma of coffee only intensified as Astrea neared the foot of the bed, white curdles of steam rising from the mug Ana sipped at. The girl was in a good mood, judging from how the Gryffindor was attempting to break up a no doubt building tension that had gathered between her visitors. Er, as much of a good mood you could be after being burnt alive at what was supposed to be a nice dance.

"Ana. I'm glad to see you are alright." A nod of greeting, a sincere sentence. What a relief it was to see Ana alive and whole, when the last time she had seen her was amongst fire and smoke and buzzing dread. The last time she had seen her, Ana had been dreadfully still and quiet, a complete mockery of the other's spitfire personality, as if a marionette doll with the strings cut.

TLDR: In a few words, Astrea's indecisive. It's been 3 days since the ball and she hadn't been able to muster up the courage to visit Ana but now she is here to react to things.

The room felt like it was getting darker, or maybe it was that sensation of staring into something so bright that it's reflection crowds out your source of view until nothing can be seen clearly. Whether what was happening was real or in her head was beyond Elpseth's ability to understand. She was just along for the ride against her will. Her chest started to feel taught, each inhalation stilted and weak until she began to feel lightheaded.

A jolt. Something shoved into her and she felt real again. Her arms felt solid, her limbs were clearly tied to the ground and not floating in some dark void. As she looked around she could see she was in the Hospital Wing, still, only now she'd managed to attract some attention. How long had she been standing there? There were a few kids crowding around the girl, now. Their conversation was still far enough away that Elspeth couldn't catch much of it. The voice next to her was clear enough, though. She turned to see- wait... what?

Still fresh off of her lightheaded near-blackout, Elspeth found herself feeling detached from reality again as she received a nasty look from a girl who was a carbon copy of the one in bed, the one who'd been on fire. Was this part of the healing process? Had one girl died and now her clones were being sent in to finish the school year for her? Were there secret clones of Elspeth somewhere in the depths of the school, ready to be released should she get pushed off the top of the Astronomy Tower? what is going on. What is going On. WHAT IS HAPPENING?

The already shallow breathes she'd been struggling to take began to quiver, and Elspeth found herself stumbling backwards into a bookshelf. A book on the end of a shelf slid down, echoing a loud THWACK across the room. She could tell she was having another panic attack, just like that boy had told her what felt like forever ago, but was just a few days prior. More than anything, she needed to get out of there. Without turning around and looking to see whether she was being stared at, Elspeth ran out the front door and down the hallway, not stopping even as she passed other students. Nothing felt safe to her anymore and she needed to get to her room where she could close the door and at least know that most of the school couldn't get in.

Mentioning @Ivy Bellamy and creating a loud sound that all could probably hear before leaving the thread.

@Anastasia Beckett @Søren Silverwood @Astrea Soleil Neptune

"No, she's not allergic," Ivy replied shortly, narrowing her eyes at the boy. Her doppelganger was quick to defend him, stating that it was "fine" - well, it wasn't. How was she ok with this? If it had been Ivy who had gone up in flames, she would never want to lay eyes on a bouquet of roses ever again. The only reason that she wasn't yelling was the fact that she didn't want to upset Ana, and she smiled in response to the wink that was sent her way. "Sure," she replied, dragging out the 'u'. Clearly, Ana hadn't lost her sense of humour - although Ivy wasn't sure whether she was glad or concerned. Obviously she was happy that she was fine, but the older girl seemed a little too fine, if you catch my drift. It was as thought Ana hadn't been affected by the Ball at all.

The Gryffindor glanced at the girl positioned at the foot of the bed, eyes widening slightly with recognition. Hadn't she been at the Ball as well? Yes, that was right. She had been there when Ana burst into flames and had taken a Flipendo for her, but what had happened to her after that? Ivy hadn't paid attention to anything else after her attempt to hit Ana's attacker with the goblets, and... oh. Her pale cheeks coloured slightly at the memory of dropping Ana on accident - she had been so sure that she would be able to help, but she had only hurt her even more. Did Ana know that it was Ivy who had dropped her? No... she was passed out. Should I tell her it was me? Would she resent me for it if I did?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud thwack! that came from the entrance of the Hospital Wing. Ivy's head snapped up to stare at the book that was now on the floor, then at the figure of a retreating girl - no doubt the one she had caught spying on Ana earlier. She refrained from rolling her eyes or sighing as so not to ruin her doppelganger's strangely good mood, but her lips would thin into a flat line, her eyes flashing darkly for a split second. Good riddance! she thought to herself, turning away. The Gryffindor felt no sympathy for the girl in the doorway - everyone had been affected by the Ball, some people in more ways than others. She wasn't special, so there was no use in acting like she was. "Do you know her?" Ivy asked Ana, waving her hand at the doorway. There was no girl there now, but she was certain that she had seen her too.