Pulchre Destructa PV S. Alexander Finished

Haha, he thought she was dangerous? ... Well, yes, she could be, but like Scott had pointed out, she wasn't dangerous to people she was friends with. That's why she was a Hufflepuff- she would defend her friends to the very end, which was good for you if you happened to be one of the aforementioned friends.

And her thoughts were rambling again, time to move on.

"Your father is Irish?" Ami asked, her eyes narrowing (in pretense, of course- the joke was still going, after all) and her interest peaking. "Of course, you'll have something coming for you if you're Irish." A total joke, she had nothing against Irish people. Obviously. "Aren't all Irish people dangerous? Like Ed Sheeran, isn't he, what, an eighth Irish? He can rap and sing, a double-edged sword. Such a dangerous Irish person."

Ami inhaled sharply as Scott squeezed her fingers as well, the gesture sending shivers up her spine. Stop, he didn't mean it, he didn't mean to hurt you. He was just joking around. Why does this hurt? You didn't hurt your fingers, why would that hurt? "I'm sorry," she said quickly, hoping he hadn't taken offense from the shiver. "I- I don't know what happened there. Here, help me stand up."

If he said no, she was clearly going to attempt to do it herself. Gripping Scott's hands tightly, her thin frame trembled as she struggled to her feet, seemingly intent on moving around the room, despite any protests the Gryffindor might have had.

“No, I’m sorry I- I didn’t think of.. oh you’re getting up now?”

Scott let her hug his hands this time, with him only strengthening his arms so to help her get up without accidentally causing her any more pain. Once on her feet, as Scott could tell he’d be unable to convince her to lay down again, he let go with his right hand to see wether she could stand and walk by herself any good.

“Yes he’s Irish. Well, his parents are at least- I’m not sure how all that works. But he’s lived in England since he graduated from Hogwarts, and met Ben and Silas’ mum. And I don’t know who Ed Sheeran is but he sounds mad.”

Must be a muggle musician, Scott thought, since he sang and rapped. One he hadn’t heard of, though. Scott studied Ami’s face with a smile.

“Sinead O’Connor.” He chipped in with. “My dad listens to her sometimes. She’s Irish and bald, so clearly she must be dangerous.”

He chuckled, “We don’t have a lot of albums at home at all, although dad loves music. But I do remember her face on one of them.. she was screaming on it and it scared me when I was little. Now I think maybe she was laughing.”

"You have another brother? I feel bad for your mom," Ami jested, swaying slightly on her feet. Her grip on Scott's hand tightened as she took a step, her eyes squeezed shut as tight as possible, the movement obviously taking up a lot more effort than she was used to. She froze after the one step, leaning heavily on her uninjured left leg.

At the mentioned of Sinéad O'Connor, she quipped quietly, "It's been seven hours and fifteen days, since you took your love away..." She had heard of the Irish singer, of course, her most famous song being Nothing Compares 2U. "I like your dad. Or, at least, his music."

The pain in her knee began to amp up, and it made Ami's face twist with discomfort. Weak. Pain like this is nothing compared to your father's pain. Suck it up.

"Walking is hard, now, too? This isn't fair," she griped as a coverup, massaging her right knee. Her expression was one of the end of a lemon- all puckered up and ugly. "You know," she continued, effortlessly lapsing into her impression of an old grandmother, "Back in the good ol' days, I could turn cartwheels and do the splits... look at me now, all worn out with my ancient bones."

Taking a deep breath, Ami gently began to put weight on her right leg, which would be the biggest mistake of all time. Turns out, she wasn't quite yet ready for that, and she let out the loudest yelp possible. 

"Ah, shoot!" Ami shot Scott a look of absolute panic, and awkwardly fell/tumbled back onto the bed, shifting herself under the covers just as the nurse poked her head through the door. "Is everything alright there, you two?"

“You talk like my mother,” Scott chuckled. “When she can’t reach places.. or stands up too quickly she- oh are you ok?”

Ami rigged back in aches, looking quite annoyed with herself for giving in to her state. Scott’s first worry was that he’d once again hurt her hand, but as she faltered he supposed it was a matter of a misstep of her own. The mishap had her yelp out in pain again, too, and this time louder- her anxious face afterwards telling Scott that it had been too loud.

“Ah shoot!”

And he had been right. This idea of walking around was most likely not one she shared with the nurse, as when said woman showed up to check on them Ami made a thing of quickly letting go off his hand and getting under her covers again.

“We’re fine, thank you.. thank you a lot yes, she’s.. she is fine.” Said Scott, not knowing what else to do but straighten her blanket out and pat his friend carefully on the head in demonstration, regretting the awkward gestures immediately with a distorted expression toward no one in particular.

“Just a.. yes.”

Scott quickly sat down in the chair again, smiling sheepishly at Ami.

Ami put on her biggest, brightest smile as Scott patted her head, beaming at the nurse quite comically. It most definitely looked like the two were up to something, but the nurse didn't seem to mind all that much, as she didn't say anything about it. Only giving the two a strange look, the nurse retreated from the room, shaking her head. 

Once she was sure the nurse was well and truly gone, Ami practically propelled herself off of the bed, grabbing Scott's forearms for balance. "Help me," she said quietly, staring into his green eyes, desperate. "Just... just walk around the room, let me follow. Please. I need this."

She was desperate, yes, to walk again. Was she so weak she couldn't even walk anymore? A basic human action, a basic human need, unavailable to her? Was this what her dad felt like? Trembling slightly, she took one step after another, biting her tongue through the pain so she wouldn't scream again. Was this what her dad had felt like? He couldn't even do what she did now, he must have been devastated... 

Even walking from the head of the bed to the foot of it took a lot. Ami sat back down, letting go of poor Scott, flopping backward (gently, considering her back) on the bed once more. "I'm so weeeeak," she grumbled, closing her eyes. "This is crap."

Walking only a little bit with her on his arm, Scott allowed her to sit back down on her bed at the end of it. She’d really wanted to succeed further, and didn’t hesitate to show her disappointment.

“I’m so weak. This is crap.”

Scott just nodded distractedly. It was terrible for her, he could tell. He wondered what it was like, too, to feel as dependant and weak as she did in that moment. He’d never been one to rely too much on himself, but maybe Ami was. The only person he could think of other than her, that would be as annoyed and frustrated with this inability, was probably Mia. So maybe it was a girl thing, then, because he knew both he and his brothers would probably cease this opportunity to lay around and do nothing.

Ami certainly didn’t look like she wanted to lay around and do nothing.

“Come on, get up.” Scott hunched down a bit with his left arm out for Ami to grab again. She could well refuse, should she actually be too tired to walk around, but something told him she wouldn’t want to.

“I’ll walk you arm-in-arm, and should it hurt too bad then you can sit down here again, or on any other bed. It’ll be a promenade. My mother always has us do those at home. She says it’s good for your character, but dad says the air in London is really no good. Still, that might be the stubborn Irishman talking.. I like it though. We’ll walk slow.”

Ami looked up, staring at Scott quizzically at his demand to rise to her feet. She hesitantly grabbed his arm, wincing as she hauled herself to her feet. What was he going to do? Coax her out of the room? Leaning quite heavily on him, she switched from just holding his arm to draping her arm around his neck, finding that just holding on to him didn't give her nearly enough support. The pair looked quite odd, as if they had just returned from a fierce battle on the frontlines, Ami being the heavily injured soldier having to be dragged back to the hospital.

It all made sense, though, once Scott finally explained his thought process.. "A promenade?" Ami said excitedly, a smile lighting up her face. "I've always wanted to do one of those!" A promenade... in America, that was "prom", but in England? Of course, it wasn't, they didn't have proms. Instead, a promenade was a stately, leisurely walk... and to think she'd finally be a proper English little lady, and take a walk with a kind gentleman, never mind whether it was inside or out.

"I think your mom's right. Walking really does wonders for posture, especially promenades," Ami said with a smile, hesitantly taking a step. "Lead the way," she added encouragingly.

"I think your mom's right. Walking really does wonders for posture, especially promenades.. Lead the way.”

Ami met him on his offer, struggling herself up again, with about as little hesitation as he’d expected.

“It does. If it’s one thing my mother’s family compliments me on, then it’s my posture. You see this? Well no, not when I’ve got you practically hanging over my shoulders.. but normally, I walk like a prince.” Scott grunted lightheartedly, heaving her up further and walking on- leaving her bed behind. “Or princess,” he admitted. “If you ask Ben. Or Mia.”

The promenades around muggle London really were fond memories of his. Even if he sometimes joined Ben in protest, he had a secret love for the family walks. They’d stroll through the Kensington Gardens, Hyde and Holland Park... His mother would dress up for it. Earrings and a fancy coats, even if just to look good for the ducks.

There were no ducks in the hospital wing.

”There are no ducks here.” Scott said, as a matter of fact-ly. “But here are beds, and chairs..” He began speaking as if he was a tour guide, similarly to the muggle ones he’d seen in London the many summers he’d spent there, leading their flock of Germans onforth. ”And there are large, tall windows. They’re a bit foggy, but I still bet you can see quite a lot of the grounds from in here. What do you see from your bed? It’s a shame there aren’t more things to do here.. all you’ve got is the view.”

Ami could help but laugh as Scott took on the role of a tour guide, introducing her to the wonders of the Hospital Wing. He was walking slowly, which she most definitely appreciated. Somehow, the atmosphere in the room seemed to lighten from just Scott's voice, brightening up as if someone came in to do a little bit of spring cleaning. Well, that didn't really make sense, but whatever- the mood was just so much better.

"Yes, a shame..." Ami said quietly, playing along. "Such a pity. Really, this place could use a little bit of sprucing up, don't you think?" Pointing at the wall opposite, swallowing the pain her shoulders cried out, she said, "There, right there? Where it's all barren? A gigantic mural, of the four founders standing together beneath the entrance of Hogwarts." Yes, she could see it now, the enormous splash of color it would bring to the room.

"The windows, they're huge and all, but they're so boring," Ami continued, really getting into her role as an interior designer. "Now, normally I'd suggest stained glass, but we're not in a church, it's a Hospital Wing, so I'm going to advise against it, for once. Instead, curtains." Ami grinned at Scott, clearly somewhat excited about even a hypothetical situation. "Beautiful, floral curtains."

Scott couldn’t clap his hands, so he nodded enthusiastically in all the directions she referenced instead.

”Yes.. yes.. it is a bit monochromatic, isn’t it? Fancy word so it must be right. A mural would most definitely help, dare I even offer to model for Godric Gryffindor myself?“

Crouching down to relieve her of more effort turning left, he wanted them to face the window between two other beds. She’d been right to say they were boring, a steel net of diamond shapes being all that made them more interesting than the dim rectangles they were. But through them, you could see the greens stretch to touch the blues in a way that was a mural in itself. The Grounds were probably the most beautiful parts of Hogwarts. Crisp and stunning.

“But I tell you this: you let any fabric, these terribly modest veils of beauty you call curtains,cover views the likes of these then I will have to object. Instead I say we remove the all the windows all together, and let the chill winds blow through. As opposed to the London air, that most certainly must be good for your character.”

He tapped with his shoes to the stone floor in a series of clacks.

“..and a rug. As much as I love tap dancing, I’d like to have the sense of security with me next time we have to do this, that I could drop you to land on something softer when I get tired.”