Breakfast with the Reaper open closed

Interactions:

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With everyone basically. But Violet would tend to interact with @Archer Duncan
more, already having met him once. (She is not rude, so feel free to interact but at the same time not much of a talker if not comfortable)

Outfit:

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Uhh, it's Sunday so a long black skirt with a white shirt top.

The Sunday morning was indeed sunny and Violet had settled in for tea and toast, with the daily prophet opened by her side.
Violet was thinking of writing a short letter to Kaitlyn and asking her if she was free to hang out with her, as she flipped the newspaper. She thought about what she could explore more. Although she had been in Hogwarts for now a long time, the school never failed to surprise her and Violet was all ready for it.
Lost in her world, she was brought back to the present, as something, unmistakably a cup or plate crashed down onto the floor across the room
Finching slightly, Violet looked up. Her eyes wandered to the Slytherin table where the commotion took place.
A boy stood there, aghast with his cup on the floor.
It took her a few seconds to realise that he was the same person who had danced with her that one night. She was ready to stand up when somebody from her table ran up to the boy and embraced him. Naturally Violet thought that she must be his best friend or girlfriend. So, she decided to observe the situation. She saw as more people joined the boy, and Violet could make out that neither did he like being hugged nor was his situation getting any better. What Violet could understand was that one of the girls had touched the shards of the broken cup with her bare hands. 'That must sting', Violet thought.
With slight hesitation, Violet headed over to the group. She couldn't ignore the boy after he had helped her with the anxiety she felt that night. Even if unknowingly, he still had helped her and Violet wanted to return the favour.
"Hey...", Violet trailed off, realising she neither knew the guy's name nor whoever surrounded him. Not knowing what to say exactly, she started again with a softer tone, "Is everything alright". As she looked over the scene, she mentally face-palmed herself for asking the question. The scene was not looking alright, though quite managed.

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354 words!

It was obvious, and should have been obvious, to anyone that the young lady was in pain. That was a fact first aid training from Maman did not help to decipher. The injury was not too grave, so Archer could only assume she was a generally sensitive girl. It seemed as if it had been demanding for her to even to focus on Archer's face as she talked to her. As he took her hand, she bit her lip as to not (he presumed) scream out, an effort Archer admired, but had difficulty processing, since usually pain as severe form such a cut would have only occurred on the fingers, where the nerves were packed much more closely together than the palm. The Scottish wizard steadied his breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth, since he was still not quite recovered from what he had witnessed in the tea leaves, even though he was grateful for the relief to distract him from the possible omen.

Archer came to a sudden halt as the Hufflepuff let out a barely audible whimper. He glanced up, his brow creasing, 'You alright?' After she offered him with an answer, he would nod and say, 'Pressing down is essential to assist with staunching the blood, though as I see flow has about stopped now, you can choose not to.' As the girl thanked him simply, he nodded once more and replied, 'Of course, pleased to be of assistance, miss.' He almost left a tone of inquiring at the end of his sentence, but soon realised that, at least if he was the lady, he would have wanted this incident left behind and their paths started anew if they ever met again. With her almost meek "sorry", Archer said softly, 'There is no need to apologise.' His eyes flitted over her once more, stood up, took a step back to give her some space, but close enough if she were to need assistance standing up, and continued, 'I wish you a swift recovery.'

Archer glanced around the area, hoping to see the house-elf he had called to clean up the mess, yet his eyes landed on another Hufflepuff girl making her way towards the small gathering. He had to squint to make out her features clearly (after all, the amount of reading must cause at least some degree of near-sighted-ness), but she was distinctly familiar, though Archer could not truly place her name. Her features were sharp, her cheekbones high, for her age, barely older than him, if older at all, with straight black hair that reaches her back, and slightly tanned skin. There were certain details he had not noticed prior under the dark veil of the night and there were certain differences as well: pyjamas had been replaced to a business-casual skirt that fell roughly below her knees, with a white shirt tucked in, her face was now in full view, rid of shadows, a thing born of ghosts now flesh and bone, but there was one striking feature that reminded Archer deeply of her, that which being her cat eyes, dark in colour and unchanged. It was almost daunting to see her as a classmate rather than a phantom he had danced with late-night in what may have been a dream that was better left forgotten instead of dwelt on.

Yet its seemed as if this "Phantom of the Rehearsal Room" was entering into Archer Duncan's life yet again as she pushed herself through the dense crowds of students and to where Archer stood. 'Hey...' she started but trailed off, Archer guessed due to the fact that she knew none of the four present by name, which, to be completely honest, he related to. 'Is everything alright?' Archer shifted on the balls of his feet, sighed heavily, and eventually locked eyes with the newcomer - though, mind you, not quite the stranger, 'I am afraid not, though you ought not be distraught.' The situation was, in fact, getting out of hand, unfortunately. Archer did not think the amount of people who had just gathered was improving the situation. In fact, they had probably escalated the damage, especially the Hufflepuff girl who insisted on picking up the shards and cut her hand - a cut that had caused more trouble than Archer expected. He gulped, lowered his head slightly before locking his cow eyes with the Hufflepuff's feline ones, 'I appreciate you coming,' - he paused slightly - 'But please excuse me.'

Grabbing his belongings from the chair, Archer headed to the door.

Hello! Sorry for such a late reply. I would appreciate it if someone stops Archer, since I want this thread to continue. Or Violet, we could even talk later in pv.

@Genevieve Delacourt, @Brookline Quinn, @Cornelius Haut, @Violet Rohr