There's A Hole In My Stomach PV Frogge Closed

Sebastian hadn't even realized that the desk was, well, occupied.

The sound of wood dragging against stone helped to pull him from his mind even if only a little, and he lifted his head and blinked in the direction of the Nurse. A couple of questions were launched his way, yet the boy initially said nothing. His mouth felt oddly dry, like his tongue was stuck to its roof and his lips were sealed together.

It wasn't until further questions were asked, ones which he found ludicrous enough to break whatever spell he'd been under, that he shook his head and managed to squeak out a response or two.

"Sebastian" he replied, dourly. "My tummy's... Gone."

Gone. He squinted at his own choice in words, and then let out a small sigh. Words weren't his thing this morning it seemed.

"I um... Haven't really eaten. No." Especially nothing off the floor. Did people really do that? Just how common was it to treat students for such? Sebastian wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer to that. He was already nauseous enough.

"Dragons?" he finally added, quiet bewilderment overriding the grimness of his tone, "I wish..." It was almost as though he was whispering at this point, and his gaze had begun to drift away from the Nurse.

"I think something's swallowed up my stomach" he finally stated, glancing down at his hands, "There's just a... a pit." A pit of nausea and buzzing bees stinging away at what little remained.

@Polonius Frogge

Polonius hummed thoughtfully and took up a clipboard and quill from the desk. He uncorked his inkwell and dipped in the tip of his quill, testing it on the paper before he began to take down notes on the case in earnest. "Sebastian... first year... Hufflepuff... reports... stomach... absent."

He peered up over the top of the board, examining the boy's abdomen. It looked to be in proper order... in many of the cases where he'd seen people's stomachs removed, there had been much more pain. Surmising that it was unlikely that the lack of screaming was a result of the boy's superhuman pain tolerance, he suspected that the self-diagnosis was incorrect. "That could be part of the issue," the nurse suggested softly, as he mentioned the lack of food. "Here."

The gangling gent reached over his desk to pick up what he had been busy with before his first patient arrived. It was a plate of toast, buttered, somewhat cold, but certainly edible. What remained was completely untouched, although the half-empty nature of the plate suggested that the other half was in the nurse's entirely present stomach at the moment. "Eat something. That should give us some more information onto where your stomach is gone. That would be the most likely culprit - physically, anyway... it's too early for you to have had potions, which is what I would suspect normally. Or at least too early for you have produced anything that could give you a stomachache."

Barely looking at Sebastian as he spoke, it seemed like he was moreso narrating his thoughts than trying to offer anything in the way of conversation. That changed as Polonius lifted his glasses again and set his gaze on the young boy's eyes. He gave a broad smile... a bit off-kilter, in that it had too much intention behind it. Smiling, eye contact... none of it came naturally to nurse Frogge.

"It's your first day of school, then, essentially, isn't it? Have you ever gone away from home for school before?" he wondered, trying to sniff out the more likely psychological component of the illness. Easier to find - much harder to treat. "It's certainly a big change, isn't it? I find it very strange being so far away from home. I'm from Hastings."

It was not lost on Frogge that his most in-depth conversation so far during his employ was now taking place, one-sidedly, with an eleven year old. But he was a very good listener, as far as Frogge was concerned, so he continued. "I have a son a bit older than you there! He'd be in his fourth year, about, if he went to Hogwarts." His hands were getting quite full now as he moved his clipboard and quill to one hand, not noticing as ink smeared on his sleeve. He picked up the picture frame from his desk to show it off - him, his wife, and his son - the picture was a still image and in color. "See if that pit improves if you fill it with a bit of toast."

@Sebastian Sorrel

Sitting still wasn't an easy feat for a boy such as Sebastian, and in that moment - as Nurse Frogge dictated and wrote his initial report - he felt particularly, uncomfortably poised. Almost like a coiled up spring ready to bounce free from whatever pressure was being enforced upon it. He wanted to swing his legs or bounce his knee but instead he planted his feet firmly on the ground and waited.

His eyes didn't lift from where they were fixed upon the ground until he heard the shifting of the plate which was set before him. A quick glance revealed the toast, and he turned a more noticeable shade of green. Eating in that moment did not seem at all appealing to him, though maybe the Nurse was correct and it would make him feel better. What did Sebastian know in comparison to an actual medical professional?

Thankfully that wasn't the end of their discussion, so the boy had at least a little bit of time to get comfortable with the idea of nibbling on the slightly cold toast. The subject of that discussion, however, had him chewing on the inside of his cheek in discomfort. Home... His gut twisted some.

His gut... Huh, perhaps his stomach wasn't entirely gone after all.

"No... Never," he responded to the query of being away from home. "I've never really been away from home at all." Other than when visiting Diagon Alley when Alina was still in school, then they'd stay in a little Bed and Breakfast in London. But that was with his family.

That was different.

"I didn't realize I wouldn't be able to call them" he finally confessed, looking back down at his lap. "I don't think I can wait until Christmas to talk to them..."

Something that the Nurse said next had him lifting his head; he observed the picture, and then looked at the man properly for the first time. He had a kind face, though he seemed a little uncomfortable with the social interaction, much like the boy himself. It was oddly relieving.

"He'd be about my brother's age then," Sebastian remarked, curiosity in his tone replacing some of the more somber notes he'd been holding on to. A change of subject, and being able to reminisce about his brother, was a welcome respite. "Tobin's going into his last year of Secondary School."

Much like Nurse Frogge's son, the older Sorrel boy had not been admitted into Hogwarts no doubt for the same reason. Simply put, he wasn't magical; Sebastian harboured unending guilt for leaving him behind.

"Does it... Bother him too?" he asked, sheepishly though able to keep his gaze upon the Nurse without retreating. "I wish he could have come here." He'd have a sibling actively in school then, and he could share in all of this wonder with him.

Alas, Tobin was a squib. The skipped over child.

Fate had not been kind in that regard.

@Polonius Frogge

Frogge pursed his lips as he saw the disinterest in his leftover toast. The doctor could prescribe it, but it was up to the patient to follow the regimen. Polonius wished he had eaten the toast first, instead of his apple, so he'd have something a bit more appetizing to offer to the poor lad. As it stood, however, this was the best thing on hand, and it would do Sebastian no good to overwhelm him with a trip to the kitchens.

"Well - far away, now, hm?" noted Frogge, with a look that implied he was sort of impressed. It was no great achievement to be far from home - everyone at Hogwarts did it - but Polonius still recalled how daunting it seemed when he first got onto the train and realized that he would be without his mother and father for so long. There had been enough excitement to distract him, however, and he had to admit that his home life was not one he missed too deeply. "Were you excited to be placed in Hufflepuff? That's the one I was hoping for. I was in Hufflepuff when I attended."

Polonius chuckled when Sebastian confessed that he thought he would be able to call them. The telephone was a luxury that those in the muggle world could hardly live without! His son was on his all the time, constantly communicating with seemingly the entire neighborhood. When he was in Hogwarts, they had to resort to the old fashioned way. "Well, perhaps you could write them a letter. I never had the hang of telephones... when I was young, you could only get them in booths. Now you can just carry them in your pants. I'll bet by the time you graduate, Muggles will walk around with their telephones strapped to their heads."

Oh, those charming muggles! So confusingly ingenious. It seemed that the photo of his family had distracted Sebastian from the pit in his tummy, or was perhaps serving as a way to soothe the perceived pain of being so far from home. When the boy mentioned his brother going to secondary school, Polonius' eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Oh," he said.

He had not made much effort to meet others afflicted with Otto Frogge's particular condition. After all, many squibs were swept under the rug, making it difficult to find friends who could relate. And who was to say they would relate? Polonius was a wizard - but his wife and son were not, and they lived perfectly happily in the muggle fashion. There was no sense to drag him kicking and screaming into a world where he would be an outcast at best.

"Does it bother him?" The man turned the frame around to look at the photo. He saw his son's smiling face, completely still. It was difficult to tell. There was no doubt that he enjoyed his life, but feelings were easily concealed from Polonius. He couldn't say it with certainty. "I hope not."

There was a long moment where Polonius was visibly lost in thought. Staring into the middle-distance over Sebastian's shoulder, he would take the greater part of a minute to consider whether his son would be happy as a non-magical person. Whether Sebastian tried to get his attention or not, he would not return until he was good and ready, his eyes returning to look at the young Hufflepuff.

"I wish my son could have come here too. I always loved Hogwarts... there are so many... memories, here," he said with a wistful sigh. "But he does take great pleasure in watching me try and use the television - so I suppose living in the muggle world must have its perks. He's a clever boy. He'll find his happiness somewhere, just as I have. What is your brother like?"