Closed It's Always You, Isn't It? PV Finn

F I N N E G A Nx⳧xC O N N E R

☙ It's always you isn't it, 16th of September 2023 ❧

For almost the entire night, he'd been turning in bed, sweating out every last drop of poison that the anti-dote had failed to take care of. Earlier that day one of the nurses had come by to change the sheets, but the comfort of fresh linens didn't last. He was restless, feeling feverishly hot one minute and shivering cold the next. One moment he'd have the sheets drawn up to his chin, the next he'd be puffing his cheeks and stuffing his navy blue pajama shirt under his cushion. He had just about finished doing the latter when an all-too-familiar voice sounded next to him.

June?

What is she doing here? He knew gossip spread fast through the castle, but unless Clark had been boasting about his illegal activities, there was no way anyone knew about the details of their fight.

Which meant she wasn't here to visit.

He turned around in bed onto his side to look at her with half-lidded eyes. It took him a little while before his bleary vision and sleep-deprived brain noticed that something was off about her. "What happened to your face?" he asked groggily. It came out sounding hollow and he almost immediately regretted having asked it. For a while now he had tried to keep June out of his life, tried to move on, tried to forget what she had said to him.

I understand your sentiment. The phrase still haunted him and kept cropping up in his mind at the most inconvenient moments, like right now. He had hoped that with time perhaps his feelings toward June would fade, but he knew now that wasn't the case at all. The feeling of admiration was still there, he still liked her, but there were other feelings too, overwhelming feelings that swelled in his chest and threatened to suffocate him. It was impossible to decide whether he wanted to turn his back on her and go to sleep, or if he should keep looking at her discolored face.

After a short while, Finnegan drew up the sheet to his chest like a shield even though he was feeling rather warm. He had never been particularly prudish but something about being stuck next to June made him more self-conscious than usual. Somehow her sudden appearance felt like being caught red-handed with his hands firmly stuck in the proverbial cookie jar. He couldn't decide whether he wanted her to buzz off or plead with her to stay and tell him a story to take his mind off his bruised, aching limbs.

"I came in last night. Had a fight." There was no further explanation forthcoming, he wasn't about to tell her he'd got poisoned, let alone bested by Clark Baird of all people. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, finding it much more bearable. "Why are you here? Can't you go somewhere else?" But no sooner than he said it, he knew it was a lie. He didn't really want her to go, nor did he want her to stay. God, he hated this feeling, it was so useless and there was nothing he could do about it. Silently, he wished he understood this sentiment...

Stamina 10 ✶ Evasion 10 ✶ Strength 2 ✶ Wisdom 3 ✶ Arcane Power 5 ✶ Accuracy 10

F I N N E G A Nx⳧xC O N N E R

☙ It's always you isn't it, 16th of September 2023 ❧

For the longest while, his gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, perhaps hoping that the aged stone would prove to be enchanted and whisper some much-needed advice into his ear. What was he supposed to do? How could he get out of this? Running away sounded attractive, but walking seemed out of the question. By the time he could have swung his legs over the edge and put his pajama top back on, some nurse or nurse assistant would have pressed him back in bed, possibly tied him down too.

No, there was only one thing for it: continue staring at the ceiling and hope that she would just vanish.

He lasted about ten seconds before the agonizing knowledge that she was right there, right beside him, had gnawed away all his resolve. When she spoke again, the hurt in her voice was clearly audible and instinctively made him turn his head. To his dismay, she had not vanished.

Bile rose in his throat, tasting of guilt, forming a lump that remained firmly stuck there even after he had apologized to her in his head for wishing her away. Despite everything, despite her discolored face and swollen eye, she was still June. Still every bit as determined, every bit as resilient, every bit as irresistible as he remembered her. For almost a month now he had tried to keep away from her, hoping the funny feelings in the pit of his stomach would blow over.

What an idiot he had been, thinking he'd just get over it.

His blanket pooled in his lap when he propped himself up on his elbows and with a deep sigh, moved into a cross-legged position facing her. For a split second he considered telling her that she wasn't the only one in pain, that he'd trade places with her in a heartbeat, that she had no idea how much he was hurting, no idea how many sleepless nights she had caused him, no idea-

She too was in pain.

Beyond what the mysterious fifth-year had inflicted on her, behind that determination, obscured by a measured sip of water, he could tell she was in pain. Sometimes words just came pouring out of his mouth before his brain had a chance to consider them, and what he said next came straight from the heart.

"I know how you feel."

He hung his head in shame, picked at his fingernails for a moment, then looked back up and blew a loose clump of overgrown hair from his eye. "Sorry. I... I shouldn't have told you to leave." A rather curious expression came over him next, his brows furrowed, then arched up and gave her a disquieted once-over. "If this is some elaborate way to try to make me like you less," he gestured vaguely at her face, "it's not working. I still like you- I thought it'd go away if I didn't see you for a while, but nope, I still love you."

To his own surprise, he didn't falter or stumble over his words, nor did he blush at his admission. "You are still the nicest, most adorable person I know and no amount of face paint will change that. How'd it happen?"

Once that question was answered, he would raise his bandaged wand-arm which appeared slightly swollen still underneath the wrappings. "Snakebite," he summarized. "They might have to chop it off," he added darkly while maintaining a serious tone. Only a few seconds later his face split into a wide grin and he laughed brightly. "It'll be fine! I'm told it's healing well, which is all the better because I intend to use both of my hands to strangle that little shit Clark. Ever heard of him? Clark Baird? He's Professor Baird's son and makes Professor Bonnet look like an angel, he does. I've had ample time to think about how I'm going to murder him, I was thinking of slipping some Chinese Chomping Cabbages into his bag... What about that fifth-year of yours? Think you'll need some Cabbages too?"

Stamina 10 ✶ Evasion 10 ✶ Strength 2 ✶ Wisdom 3 ✶ Arcane Power 5 ✶ Accuracy 10

F I N N E G A Nx⳧xC O N N E R

☙ It's always you isn't it, 16th of September 2023 ❧

"Extra practice? You?" his voice nearly cracked. "What for like?" The way she sweated her assignments to perfection hadn't escaped his notice. The only time he had ever heard her mention particular subject by name was when she was stressed about receiving a less than perfect grade, a rare occurrence but no less annoying when it happened. Getting between June and her assignments was ill-advised, he knew, but at times he wondered if he ought to intervene, get her to wind down and relax a bit. They had yet to revisit their spot in the owlery since he had first shown it to her, there just never seemed to be any time to wander.

"It exploded?" his face lit up. Apparently talking about exploding Potions was just the sort of thing he needed to forget about the dull ache in his arm or how he had been meaning to ignore June just moments ago. "Did it make a big bang? I hope you remember what he put in, was there lots of fire? I once nearly melted my cauldron, I did, it was wicked- oh, what color smoke was it? Did it hurt a lot? Are your ears ringing? I bet it smelled positively horrid" he grinned sheepishly. "Oh, uh, sorry, I meant nothing by it."

His enthusiasm was somewhat dulled at the mention of his scuffle with Clark. "Well..." he combed his hand through his unruly, dark brown hair and smirked slightly. But before he could begin retelling a potentially embellished version of his struggle with the chaos goblin, a blur of motion caught his eye. With a muffled thud, a pillow hit him right in the face before falling into his lap. "Really?" he squinted at June, "that's what I get? You could've killed me!" he threw his head back dramatically and flopped back down onto his bed laughing.

"I'm surprised you don't know Clark," he said once he had recovered a little. That's what you get for living in the library, he thought to himself. "Everyone knows Clark. Not in a good way though, he likes redecorating classrooms and setting things on fire. He was making a bonfire out of some desks when I ran into him." It was no accident that he omitted telling her he'd bumped into Clark in the middle of the night, she didn't need to know that bit. "I put it out, he didn't like that, now I'm here, plotting my revenge."

Her suggestions, though welcome, were perhaps the most surprising thing to happen in his 2nd year at Hogwarts. "You're feeling violent, aren't you? Dragon dung huh? I hadn't thought of that..." But it was the name she mentioned almost in passing that made him sit up in wide-eyed disbelief. "Elsian did that to your face? Oh, I'm going to murder him, I am."

He threw aside the blankets, swung his legs over the edge and searched around for a shirt and some socks to put on. "I bet he's sleeping again, he's always sleeping, but not for much longer..." Wincing slightly, he hopped out of bed and tried to steady himself, "where's my wand? Did you see it? I'm going to vanish his stupid pillow collection and poke holes in his inflatable couch, you should see him carry it around, he looks bloody ridiculous... " He rummaged around some more, apparently convinced that running up to Elsian in his slippers and pyjamas was the best course of action. "You've got to be firm with someone like Elsian or he'll just keep pushing you, he's worse than a poltergeist, I'm telling you... Where's my bloody wand?"

Stamina 10 ✶ Evasion 10 ✶ Strength 2 ✶ Wisdom 3 ✶ Arcane Power 5 ✶ Accuracy 10

F I N N E G A Nx⳧xC O N N E R

☙ It's always you isn't it, 16th of September 2023 ❧

Aflash of annoyance came over his face. "D'you have my wand?" It sounded like an accusation, one he regretted the moment the words left his mouth. "Sorry," he added quickly, only now noticing her hand pushing him back down into the safety of his blankets and pillows. Odd, the useless thought bubbled up in his mind as he lay down. She wasn't usually the one to initiate contact, except when she was crying. Well, she had mentioned her eyes stinging a little so maybe that explained it? Still, this was different. He was just beginning to feel rather horrible about having ignored June all this time when she mentioned @Elsian Cox again.

"Oh I know him alright," Finnegan responded gruffly. "He's the worst."

She seemed to agree on that count, though he suspected she meant it more than he did. Sure, Elsian's antics were dreadful, but Finnegan still regarded the fifth-year as a fellow Gryffindor and - more importantly - a fellow Quidditch player. There had been plenty of times he had rather enjoyed Elsian's company and he suspected that Elsian begrudgingly liked him back, in a brotherly sort of way. After all, nothing said "I like you" more than throwing a pillow at someone's face. Or getting smacked in the face with a bouquet of flowers, like @George Henry had all that time ago. He made a mental note to reach back out to the dreary Hufflepuff once he'd gotten out of hospital. In fact... now that he thought about it, he could rather use the help of a fifth-year Hufflepuff to exact some sweet revenge on a certain pint-sized gremlin of a boy @Clark Baird. The excitement would surely bring some much needed color to George's life. Or maybe it was just the OWLs that sucked the life and joy out of the teen. Finnegan shuddered at the very notion of OWLs and was immediately grateful for being stuck in a hospital bed.

"Elsian is the second worst actually," Finnegan added after a moment of consideration. "Clark's the absolute worst, everyone hates him, he's just such an ass all the time. I like your thinking though..."

They spent a few more minutes discussing ever wilder plans on how they would make Clark and Elsian pay for their crimes. Then, at last, a nurse came around to take care of June's discolored face, and their conversation was brought to a swift end. By midday, one of the assistant nurses had finally let him get up so he could attend dinner in the great hall. Between evert stab at his food, he thought of more gruesome ways to deal with the living pestilence that called itself Clark, but it wasn't until he'd gotten back into his own bed that his mind settled down. Clark, he had decided rather magnanimously, wasn't going to be killed. What the boy really needed was a good taste of his own medicine. Was it treachery to briefly consider enlisting Elsian's aid to deal with Clark? Perhaps it was, but thankfully June couldn't read thoughts. She had a hard enough time taking any kind of hint. Ultimately he decided against enlisting Elsian's aid simply because his other fifth-year friend was simply far more conveniently positioned to slip something proper nasty into Clark Baird's dormitory.

Oh yes, Clark Baird would get to experience the kind of terror he liked to visit upon others soon enough...

Stamina 10 ✶ Evasion 10 ✶ Strength 2 ✶ Wisdom 3 ✶ Arcane Power 5 ✶ Accuracy 10