The Girl & The Giant PV Healy Finished

A massive wall of a child was bee lining it to the dueling room. A black hood hid their face. With an incredible stride he closed a distance that would take most students a few swift steps with a single one. There was just a general air of bad vibes and don't come near me energy wafting off this massive child. Standing over 9 feet and looking well built like a wall despite proportionally being slim. They arrived with feline on their shoulder in front of the dueling room door.

The voices had been silent lately, and the silver queen sat on his shoulder didn't look pleased but stressed and worried. Soft whining mewls coming from her. To which the boy reached up to reassure her with gentle strokes. But it did little to calm her despite the head bumps and head rubbing. He could tell because the silver queen showed her displeasure through bites that would hurt most children but not Quinn.

He allowed this too angry, too upset, too hurt to care. But at the moment he was just mostly a ball of anger. Removing his hand a bit forcefully startled the feline and she swatted at his cheek while his head was turned. The look he gave her quickly caused her to flinch and he instantly regretted causing him to get even more pissed off at his behavior looking away ashamed. Thankfully the silver queen stayed on his shoulder if a little rattled and threatened now by how her back was arched and odd eyed pupils dilated.

He realized he was still standing in front of the dueling doors, and suddenly for whatever inexplicable reason a memory came to him, it was raw, vivid, and worst of all only came as a painful flash.

"GET OUT...YOU HEAR ME MONSTER...OUT!!"

Growling at this he stepped forward his hands slamming into the heavy wooden doors...full force. His weight behind the thrust forced the doors to swing open with such force that they slammed into the inside walls of the dueling room. The doors were cracked from where he thrust his hands into them and chipped on the edges from the force of the wall slam. It created a sudden and terrible noise as its hinges were rattled and nearly broken off. Nearly though, but thankfully they stayed. This scared the silver queen but despite her fear she stayed with her companion. For she knew what many didn't.

His darkened eyes found their target. Stomping over to the small Slytherin in question, dressed in beaten up and faded blue jeans, his badger themed converse, and Jack Skellington black hoodie with the hood up. Quinn Healy plopped his massive rear down on the floor right next to San. Pulling his knees to his chest rapping his massive arms around them, and burying his face in them. His hair was unkempt, messy and quite frankly he looked like a terrible mess and she hadn't actually got a good look at his face yet.

"..." He didn't speak just shook with so much rage it was terrifying him but he was too angry to do much about it for fear of repeating what he did to his mother. Irene the silver queen for her part had never looked so scared before. She immediately jumped from his shoulder onto San and was shaking like a leaf. Which was unusual and telling considering how she didn't like people outside of Quinn and a few. Just what the hell happened?

Santario was wrapped up in her own head, thinking of all the different strategies that she and Bridget could do in their next duel while she stared down the training dummy. Her wand even started in the motion of a spell right as the doors to the duelling room slammed open, crashing into the walls of the duelling room.

Santario shrieked in terror, spinning on the balls of her feet to face the entrance wand, ready for whatever enemy might be walking in. Had her parents’ killers found a way into the school prepared to finish off what they started? Could a hag have decided to attack a student who had allowed themselves to be alone and vulnerable so many times in the same room? After all, if they had been watching, noticing that pattern would not have been very hard.

No, it was none of the above; in fact, it was none other than Quinn Healy. When his eyes found her, she dropped her wand hand immediately and put her other to her heart. “Merde* Quinn, you gave me a fight!” She exclaimed, frowning at him while taking an actual good look at him. He was darker than normal but not in terms of skin tone. No, it was like a shadow hanging over him. “Quinn?” It was quieter as concern replaced the fear and anger on her face, but she would not be given a reply. She watched him as he walked over to the raised piste and took a seat at the edge neat her. Irene immediately jumped from him and into Santario, who caught her with ease holding her close. Santario gently rearranged Irene to be more comfortable while being held with one arm as she approached Quinn’s back and very gently leaned herself against him.

Quinn would talk when he was ready. It was a silent understanding between the two. Neither of them ever needed to push the other because it would eventually come out. What she needed to do at this moment was calm both Quinn and Irene down. The arm's hand that held Irene gently pet her fur in a slow and hopefully calming manner. Her free hand would gently remove Quinn’s hood and start immediately petting through his hair, just like she had when they first met by the lake. “Take your time whenever you are ready. Until then, breathe deeply and listen.”

Irene's eyes were still as dilated as a feline could get and her scared meows had grown louder. However, perhaps because of the singing and the general overall of Santario herself. She more readily pressed her head into Santario reacting to the stroking pets. It was very slow but she would be able to notice that the odd eyed feline was indeed relaxing.

Quinn flinched when she pulled down his hood and even more so when she touched his head. He retreated in on himself further. As she ran her fingers through his mess of tangled curls, and slowly pat him. He didn't move just tensed up more but from the familiar stroking he finally opened his darkened eyes. Another flash of memory.

"Oh so it's my fault you're miserable now is that it. Do you have any idea how much we go through to pay for your clothing, your suits, your cat, your therapy! Quinn do you have any idea how much of a burden you are?? It's bad enough that you didn't get into Ravenclaw, or that your baby sisters have to suffer because of your outbursts!! So grow up and stop being such a burden and just listen to your father for once in your life!!

His anger boiled over again and he growled making strange, strangled whine/growls/muffled yells. Angry tears began to flow out of eyes in a practical torrent and he shook even worse tapping his feet hard. And then he finally noticed the singing, the crying wasn't subtle either. It was loud if muffled and intense above all. But he listened to San and focused on the head petting. When her delicate fingers reached the middle of his scalp where there was a slight dip, it was like she hit a switch in him. He pressed his head harder into her hand.

Gradually he began to calm down but the tears wouldn't stop or the snot now. He finally spoke, "Tá a fhios agat nach bhfuil an fuck balbh sin de dhíth orm? Ní raibh sé de dhíth orm nuair a bhí mé san ospidéal agus níor thug sé cuairt orm. Ní raibh sé de dhíth orm nuair a bhí Harlin ar a chuid measa agus mhothaigh mé liom féin agus ní raibh sé ann. Ní raibh sé de dhíth orm an t-am ar fad a ghortaigh daoine mé! Níl...Ní raibh sé de dhíth orm nuair a rinne gach duine bulaíocht orm agus ar a dtugtar ollphéist dom!!!" His intensive crying, hiccuping and shaking continued through that. He felt so alone, so hated, so much like the monster his father wanted him to be. As he spoke his voice had risen to a near defeating crescendo as he looked up and finally turned his head.

His eyes so filled with hope and light were now that of someone who had finally been broken. Filled with desperation and pure concentrated. Still speaking in his native tongue in a small, entirely too fragile and soft voice, "Cén fáth nach mbeidh grá aige dom, Santario?"

Irene had been spoked again and buried her head into Santario again. But very quickly she wriggled out of her grip when she heard his unique tone. Even if she was scared she knew her Quinn well enough to know when he was just scared and he needed her. So, if San allowed she'd get out of her arm and climb onto Quinn trying to rub up against him, to do anything to comfort, console, and calm the frightened child.

This was not the first time she had been in close proximity to Quinn when he started to make primal noises. The growling was most common since he was prone to hitting anger faster than anything else. The whines, shaking, and crying was new territory altogether.

With her torso pressed gently into his back, she could feel his every movement as she sang to him, and it broke her heart every second that it carried on. She did not know what he was going through, but whatever it was had cut him deep to the bone. When his head pressed harder into her hand, she applied slightly more pressure allowing the tips of her nails to gently scratch his scalp through his thick hair. When he would start to speak, she would transition her singing into humming before stopping altogether so that her voice did not cut into a dead silence.

Quinn did not have to elaborate on who he was. Santario could easily guess. She knew he had some troubles with his father in the past, but she did not know how bad it truly was, not until this very moment. It was something that Santario could not relate to because while her father was alive, they had a very loving relationship. There never went a day that Santario had not been praised or complimented on something. So to have someone in your life that was supposed to love you and care for you unconditionally and just choose not to was more challenging for her to grasp. However, Santario knew heart-wrenching pain, and while the pain came from different sources, it was clear as day to her just how much Quinn was hurting.

As Irene pressed deeper into her, Santario gave her a soft, reassuring squeeze with her arm only to bend down and let her go moments later when it was clear she wanted down. Once Ilene was set down, she wrapped her arms over Quinn from behind, leaning her chin on his left shoulder, her left and right hands resting on his right shoulder, giving him as much of a hug as she could in that position. “Ní gá duit a ghrá. Ní ceart breithe é an teaghlach; saothraítear é, agus is léir nach bhfuil aon rud den tsaghas déanta aige. Ná bí ag lorg grá fear a dhéileálann le daoine ar an mbealach seo. Quinn, tá anam álainn agat, agus is duine iontach tú. Seo é a chailliúint, ní mise. Tá grá agat, Quinn Healy. Ná déan dearmad air sin riamh.” Each whispered word heartfelt.

She gave him another tight squeeze. “Inis dom cad a tharla.” She knew it would be painful for him to speak about it, but the wounds were already open; it was best to get it out of the way now instead of reopening them later down the road.

Translations

Quinn sniffled and quietly listened to her he finally looked up a bit providing an opening for the sweet, odd-eyed Irene to slink into the cavity. She got nestled and more out of fear and stress rubbed frantically against him meowing. Quinn finally seemed to notice and with the gentle move pressed into her and took in deep breathes to start calming his rapid heart beat. It was slow it was very slow but he forced himself to open his body up a bit more and uncurl an arm so a hand could stroke and caress the terrified and worried feline. This seemed to be working for the two.

Santario's words also helped, it didn't even occur to him that this could be considered a bad look or start rumors. He didn't care. Not right now. The anger, the fear, all the negativity was there but at least right now it wasn't blinding. He didn't wipe his face this time but hot tears still fell. " It's a lahng stahry. It started ahn chrestmas eve. Least 'e 'ad de decency to wait after denner. Whahle family was dere naht joehst me parents, sester, and grandparents. Boeht me cousens and extended family too. bet o' a family tradition..." He closed his eyes, and fell into the memory.

Once he started talking the words began to flow. His damn finally broke and he could no longer stop it. "We were seated arooehnd de 'earth tellin stahries. Gaht a lettle into sahme o' de previooehs quiddetch match stahries, and ahther tales. Irene was slenkin arooehnd and bein 'er usual regal self. Apparently sahmethin abooeht dat set ahff dad maybe she annahyed 'im ahr it cooehld 'ave been de drenk boeht..." His breath hitched. " ...'e'd been drenkin. 'e doesn't get violent boeht 'e gets mahre 'ahnest. anyway dat's when it started. dat's when dis whahle damndable mess started. i dahn't know why 'e said it boeht 'e started wit, 'why dahn't you tell dem abooeht de soehmmer championship and what 'appened at st. moehngo's?'" He laughed bitterly.

He started to shake again with anger. He thought they were passed that, he thought his dad had finally started seeing him for his son. Sure St. Mungo's was uncalled for and Quinn was in the wrong. But Harlin had been acting up so terribly and he was being attacked. He even warned the kid. He didn't mean to! So why was his father bringing it up to the whole family. They already looked at him apprehensively, and except for the youngest there, everyone besides his grandparents and sisters looked at him with certain looks. Judgemental and inquisitive looks. It was like he was already back there and his tremors only grew.

Santario just stayed where she was, hugging his shoulders and staring at the side of his face. Like many others, this could not be forced. Quinn had to come out and want to talk about it in his own time, but Santario was patient, and she was willing to wait until he was ready. She did not care if anyone saw her hugging him from behind; if they wanted to spread petty and stupid rumors, then let them. In the end, San knew that if Nico got upset, the dhampir would understand once everything was explained. After all, could she really expect them to break a bond that had started before Quinn and Nico were together?

So she simply did not care what anyone else could or would think about it. Quinn looked up, at least a little, and San tried to offer him a reassuring smile. He could not be hurt here, not right now, and not with her. She simply would not allow it. Santario saw his tears as he started talking, but wiping them away would have done nothing but soak her arm, so she let him go through the motions. When he mentioned Christmas Eve, she tensed slightly but slowly relaxed as she listened to him. Of course, it had been on that day.

She listened as she always had, offering a gentle squeeze of his shoulders with her arms when his breath hitched mid-story. His body started to shake again, and she could tell the tell tale signs of a typical Quinn anger mode. “It is going to be okay. I am sorry he said such things to you. He had absolutely no right, and he was out of line to throw your past in your face like that.” She whispered, being so close to his ear. She knew this was not the end to his story; it never was, especially when it came to his father.

She had a feeling that something much worse happened to affect Quinn this badly. She had seen him bad before, but never like this. This was like dark, bitter, and unsweetened chocolate. “What happened after that, Pumpkin?” Santario used her nickname for him trying to help ground him in their friendship to give him the strength to carry on with his story.

It was strange to say the least. As Quinn had talked, he felt like the voice that spoke wasn’t his own. Was the body he was inhabiting even his own, or was it all simply a dream. Surely it had to be right? I mean this all couldn’t be real, could it? Was he even he-

“Pumpkin?”

Suddenly he felt the familiar soft pleasure and vibrations of his sweet Irene. His precious silver queen, the vibrations from her purrs were deep. He didn’t pick up on the desperation or the trembling or her very affectionate and needy rubbing. No needy wasn’t the right word, anxious and stressed is more apt. Quinn was still rather tightly wound around himself and shaking but Irene’s soft fur and reassuring purring was definitely helping. He could feel her against his chin, the licks and nips at his skin around his neck and the underside of his chin.

It may have taken some doing but Quinn unfurled himself enough, just enough to reach down and started caressing the top part of her head. Taking his large digits and adding just a bit of pressure, it took a lot of focus to regulate his strength, thankfully by now it was second nature so it wasn’t as difficult as it used to be when he would get this way.

Meanwhile while the word Pumpkin floated inside of his head, there was another entirely different situation brewing within. While Quinn continually retreated further into his own mind. Barely holding on to the maelstrom of emotions that threatened to blow over. There was an equally chaotic argument going on as two figures stood over the incredibly small curled up child that was Quinn’s mental image of himself.

“Dáiríre? Pumpkin? Sin a fhaigheann tú?”

“Oh shove it ya old hag with anger issues”

“Deir an fear flamboyantly drámatúil a crushing a-”

“Finish that sentence and I will end you.”

“Ní fhéadfá deireadh a chur le do chaidreamh le Quinn fiú. Cad a chuireann ar do shuaimhneas leithscéal brónach d’fhear mar is féidir leat rud ar bith a dhéanamh ach scéim, connive, agus cower.”

“Ooooooh big words coming from a sorry excuse for a mother. At least his real mother knows how to show him proper respect from time to time, instead of being the cause of his trauma.”

“Ó an féidir leat é sin a rá i ndáiríre mar gheall ormsa!? Cad faoi tusa! An bhfuil a fhios aige fiú cad a tharla i ndáiríre an lá sin cad a rinne tú! Tá mé go dona!?! Ba mhaith liom é a shábháil ach coinníonn gach duine lena n-áirítear an cailín beag wannabe seo i m-”

“SHUT UP!!!!” The half giant suddenly boomed. “SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUT UPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!!!!!!” He kept repeating suddenly, his voice rising to terrifying levels. It spooked Irene enough for her to hiss and run away, finding the darkest and best spot to hide. Darting completely out of site. He was huffing and panting and crying again. His mental image seemed to shrink causing the two to nearly panic and say in unison.

“Look at what you did!!!/Féach ar an méid a rinne tú!!!”

Meanwhile back in the presence he was looking around frantically for his Irene. Not realizing he scared her half to death and pushed her away. Without being able to find her the only thing keeping him planted now was the presence of his best and closest friend Santario. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know where to go. He just…

He groaned and yelled out in frustration, and then suddenly just started to talk. For no apparent reason then the vain hope that maybe just maybe, talking would help. “…” He tried to speak but he couldn’t he was just. Tired he wanted to end this terrible way he was feeling. He pushed Irene away, maybe he should push Santario away?

He suddenly tensed and made a weird guttural sound before hanging his head, eyes a little blank. Seconds later he lifted his head slowly but didn’t turn around. “Alright you’re on timeout mister and it’s my time to shine!!” His voice was different, still deep but a bit higher-pitched and far more flamboyant and whimsical tone took its place. “Hey there Peaches miss me? Great!” He laughed and turned his head a strange glint in his crazed puffy eyes.

“So here’s the story. After our illustrious scum stain of a father said that. Aeron lashed out and nearly punched him in the face! Bad temper that one you’ve met. Say hi Aeron!” There’s a paused on his features and a small snort. “She says hi!”

“Ní dhearna mé fuck as” A strange voice chimes in mixing oddly with Quinn’s. It’s strange and terrifying.

“Yeah well me and Queenie stopped her. From there things only got worse. Ya see when you have the body of a near giant and the moody brain of a 14 year old? What do you get?” He didn’t wait. “Ding ding ding! You win the grand prize peaches! Disaster and trauma! It started with the cousin’s though to their credit, they tried to calm things down. Even tried to talk Quinn down and it was working until…” His eye twitched. “He done and said the one thing he shouldn’t have. I wish you were never born. But of course the drunken fool didn’t stop that there! Oh no, he just had to call us….US!!! A basket case and a mistake! To which we took extreme exception.” His voice grew dangerous and smile crazed.

“Of course, dear sweet mom. She…tried to talk some sense into us. Blew that temper of hers too, but just before we were about to knock some deserved sense into him.” The voices began to change again and it was a mix of all three which would sound like a severe voice crack going into three different octaves at different pitches in quick succession. “We hit mom.” He went silently. It seems this event especially the harming of his mother miss Healy who if you paid attention. Did nothing to stop his father from the beratement or the escalation. Which probably hurt the three more than anything. Still didn’t mean they wanted to her. Or so one could guess.

But now the unstable boy was silent and completely retreated in on himself burying his face deep into his knees. Tense and unmoving like a boulder.

Santario closed her eyes and hugged Quinn tight it was all she could do regardless of being scared. It was rare that she saw outbursts of his like this, and they were usually in fits of rage during fights. She had no idea if he was going to lash out at her or not, but she had grown tougher over the year and could take it if he accidentally did. That, however, would not happen. In fact, silence would fall, and Santario would open her eyes, staying as still as possible besides her heart racing a million miles per hour.

His head fell, and she frowned as she watched about to say something before a higher-pitched voice kicked through. Peaches? Quinn had never called her peaches before…. Wait… “Harlin?” It was posed as a question, but it was not actually a question. She knew she was right; the characteristics of the voice were unmistakable. “Aeron and I have met briefly…” Kind of, not really; San was there once when she had come out, but that was about it.

She listened as she always did, silent, observing, and patient as Harlin continued to explain what happened that night. When it finally came to the story's climax and all of the voices seemed to meld together, he professed something that made him feel shameful. However, his following action would get them nowhere as he balled up and closed her out. Santario moved from behind him and hopped off the piste. “Pumpkin.” Her voice was soft as if she were speaking to someone much younger than her, but not in a patronizing way.

She reached for his hands, though if they were too tucked away, she would settle for resting her hands on his forearm. “Hey, you obviously did not stay there; please tell me where you went after that. I need to know that you are safe now, and I want you to know that you will always be welcome in France.” Her grandmother might throw a fit about it at first, but Santario knew how to spin webs and make her own deals, especially from the woman she learned it from. It would not take much convincing to get her to agree, especially if San offered to attend some formal events in the future. Regardless her first priority was making sure that Quinn was now in a safe space.

Eli. - Worthless

At the sudden platonic affection or perhaps through own willingness. Quinn came back to the forefront. But his voice was incredibly soft and weak. The only reason San could heard him was because she was so close. His large hand squeezed her. A little tighter than he should have but not to the point of being totally uncomfortable or hurting.

"Gran...parents..." He sniffled and looked up slightly, crying in full force still. His cheeks red from how upset he was, and face wet. "...they um...I'm staying with them." He managed to get out and nodded after hearing her offer. "M-M-Maybe ah could visit instead...ah p-p-promise not t-to be trouble...Ah..." He started to get worked up again and it appeared as though he might go into a full out panic attack once more.

Thankfully he managed to calm himself squeezing her hand this time painfully, before releasing moments later. He was a wreck and honestly it was a miracle he still had enough control to not do more damage. Through it all he managed a simple and broken up thank you to someone he viewed as his best friend and at the moment in his mind the only person that cared about the lonely and scared boy.