20 Mar 2019, 10:52
A Spoonful of Sugar
Ogla craddled her broken arm she sat in the hospital bed. She had specifically asked to watch when the treated her arm. She knew it would've been quick just to let them do it while she was out cold but magic was still new to her and she wanted to take in every bit of it.
She was in a strange place called St. Mungo's, it sounded more like a clown house than a place to treat the injured. It almost seemed like a joke, having a hospital for "sick" wizards. She could just imagine explaining this to her Uncle Thom, he'd go on forever about how idiotic he thought people were like he always did about everything people do, excluding her, of course.
Ogla frowned as her arm stung; she was wishing more and more that she hadn't refused treatment earlier. No one was in the room, she noticed after glancing around. The table next to her held a small glass of water, a little plate of large chunks of chocolate, which was the strangest part, her wand, and reading glasses. She scowled in hesitation for a moment before reaching for the chocolate.
She was just tasting a piece when a door a little ways down was opened and she heard several footsteps approaching. Thinking better, Ogla dropped back and feigned sleeping, all the while listening closely..
“She's basically a muggle, with her still out like this.”
Someone clucked their teeth. “Oh, hush up, Eunese, she's just a child.”
“Who broke their arm. My nephew broke his arm, elbow, and wrist the other day and he said he was still ready to hit the bludgers on the field!”
Someone, probably the more understanding person, sighed softly and Ogla felt them getting closer. If she'd had her eyes open she would've been too surprised, in a bad way, to see them inches from her face. They moved back after a few seconds.
“She ate some chocolate, at least.” Ogla vaguely remembered overhearing someone mentioned Honeydukes chocolate, and how it was a great remedy for ailments, including ones brought on by the infamous dementors. The word itself sound so dark that Ogla didn't even really want to find out what a dementor was.
Opening one eye so small that she'd could barely see, Ogla took in the sight of two wizards, one male and the other female. The witch seemed to be the one who'd discounted her value so indifferently. She felt liked offing her but she knew that it wouldn't make a difference; Ogla had found out quickly about how stubborn witches could be.
It took a good moment for her to notice the boy behind them, and did she notice! He was extremely attractive, like somewhere between handsome and beautiful. Ogla saw him looking right at her and felt her cheeks redden. She knew it might make it obvious that she was conscious but it was hard not to think about someone who was thinking about you, and was making it obvious.
Ogla parted her lips slightly and took in air. By this time the two wizards were well into their conversation, no longer paying attention to her. They were probably going to leave again until they figured she was awake, when they thought that would be. They were either slow-minded or actually clever, taking advantage of the situation to waste time..
Closing her eyes all the way, Ogla figured she could use the extra sleep. It didn't take long for her to remember the boy.
“I know you're awake...you don't have to worry about me.” Ogla hesitated, than slowly open her eyes. Watching the boy, she said, “Who said I was worrying?”
She rolled her eyes and sat up, taking the glass of water. As she sipped it she watching the boy. “Were those your parents?”
He shook his head. “Uh, no.” He grinned slightly. “That's Christ and Hobbit, just nicknames. They're like...friends. My real parents—or I should say my mother, is gone.”
“Oh,” murmured Ogla, smiling politely. The boy gestured at the plate of chocolate. Lifting it up for him, she said, “Help yourself...”
He took one and slowly chewed, seeming to savor the bite. He glanced at her. "You're a first-year, aren't you? You look like one.”
Ogla glared up at him. “If that's an insult, you suck at making them, because I'm more than proud of joining Hogwarts, even if that means I just started.”
The boy held up his hands in defense, smiling. “I only meant...look, I'm entering my third year, maybe I could help out? I'm not a map myself but...”
Ogla felt disgusted but wasn't sure why. “I'm...just going to rest now,” she announced, closing her eyes once more.
There was a moment of silence before the boy left. Ogla sighed in relief and sat back up, a stretching her arms. She got up and walked around, stretching her limbs, crackling her knuckles, and doing other things to ease the tension in her body. Golden sunlight was pouring through a window so she hobbled over, wincing at her sprained ankle. It had been raining heavily a few hours ago but now the Ogla bathed in the warm light, watching the outside muggle world with a wary gaze.
She was in a strange place called St. Mungo's, it sounded more like a clown house than a place to treat the injured. It almost seemed like a joke, having a hospital for "sick" wizards. She could just imagine explaining this to her Uncle Thom, he'd go on forever about how idiotic he thought people were like he always did about everything people do, excluding her, of course.
Ogla frowned as her arm stung; she was wishing more and more that she hadn't refused treatment earlier. No one was in the room, she noticed after glancing around. The table next to her held a small glass of water, a little plate of large chunks of chocolate, which was the strangest part, her wand, and reading glasses. She scowled in hesitation for a moment before reaching for the chocolate.
She was just tasting a piece when a door a little ways down was opened and she heard several footsteps approaching. Thinking better, Ogla dropped back and feigned sleeping, all the while listening closely..
“She's basically a muggle, with her still out like this.”
Someone clucked their teeth. “Oh, hush up, Eunese, she's just a child.”
“Who broke their arm. My nephew broke his arm, elbow, and wrist the other day and he said he was still ready to hit the bludgers on the field!”
Someone, probably the more understanding person, sighed softly and Ogla felt them getting closer. If she'd had her eyes open she would've been too surprised, in a bad way, to see them inches from her face. They moved back after a few seconds.
“She ate some chocolate, at least.” Ogla vaguely remembered overhearing someone mentioned Honeydukes chocolate, and how it was a great remedy for ailments, including ones brought on by the infamous dementors. The word itself sound so dark that Ogla didn't even really want to find out what a dementor was.
Opening one eye so small that she'd could barely see, Ogla took in the sight of two wizards, one male and the other female. The witch seemed to be the one who'd discounted her value so indifferently. She felt liked offing her but she knew that it wouldn't make a difference; Ogla had found out quickly about how stubborn witches could be.
It took a good moment for her to notice the boy behind them, and did she notice! He was extremely attractive, like somewhere between handsome and beautiful. Ogla saw him looking right at her and felt her cheeks redden. She knew it might make it obvious that she was conscious but it was hard not to think about someone who was thinking about you, and was making it obvious.
Ogla parted her lips slightly and took in air. By this time the two wizards were well into their conversation, no longer paying attention to her. They were probably going to leave again until they figured she was awake, when they thought that would be. They were either slow-minded or actually clever, taking advantage of the situation to waste time..
Closing her eyes all the way, Ogla figured she could use the extra sleep. It didn't take long for her to remember the boy.
“I know you're awake...you don't have to worry about me.” Ogla hesitated, than slowly open her eyes. Watching the boy, she said, “Who said I was worrying?”
She rolled her eyes and sat up, taking the glass of water. As she sipped it she watching the boy. “Were those your parents?”
He shook his head. “Uh, no.” He grinned slightly. “That's Christ and Hobbit, just nicknames. They're like...friends. My real parents—or I should say my mother, is gone.”
“Oh,” murmured Ogla, smiling politely. The boy gestured at the plate of chocolate. Lifting it up for him, she said, “Help yourself...”
He took one and slowly chewed, seeming to savor the bite. He glanced at her. "You're a first-year, aren't you? You look like one.”
Ogla glared up at him. “If that's an insult, you suck at making them, because I'm more than proud of joining Hogwarts, even if that means I just started.”
The boy held up his hands in defense, smiling. “I only meant...look, I'm entering my third year, maybe I could help out? I'm not a map myself but...”
Ogla felt disgusted but wasn't sure why. “I'm...just going to rest now,” she announced, closing her eyes once more.
There was a moment of silence before the boy left. Ogla sighed in relief and sat back up, a stretching her arms. She got up and walked around, stretching her limbs, crackling her knuckles, and doing other things to ease the tension in her body. Golden sunlight was pouring through a window so she hobbled over, wincing at her sprained ankle. It had been raining heavily a few hours ago but now the Ogla bathed in the warm light, watching the outside muggle world with a wary gaze.
“Ogla Crocorith is her name, and tomfoolery isn't her game.”