I Don't Know My Name (Quinn)

[maxima ruqayyah greyback]

It was a few days before the final task of the Triwizard Tournament—three, to be exact, not that Maxima had mentioned to anyone else that she was actually counting down. The Third Task was on the 30th of April, the next Tuesday. That meant that it was presently Saturday, which was better than the anticipation of trying to make it through all of Monday's classes.

Max knew that she had the weekend to work on her O.W.L. revision, and she had spent most of the morning in the library, save for having to stop reading long enough to go to the toilet. Not wanting to return to the library to find that her work had been moved or somehow ruined, she piled her textbooks and parchment back into her bag, which she kept with her.

Stepping out of the toilet cubicle and placing her bag back onto her shoulder, Max went straight to the sink to begin washing her hands. She didn't think much of it and didn't see any reason to think anything of it. How many times had she used this same lavatory over the years?

She glanced over at the sound of the opening door, still in the process of washing her hands. The girl who entered was a Ravenclaw girl in her own year, Quinn Price. “Hey,” Max told her, washing off the rest of the soap she'd used. She knew Quinn well enough that she felt comfortable saying hello—and not pretending as though she hadn't seen her enter—though she didn't really see the bathroom as being a place to strike up a conversation, either.

@mnm

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The Triwizard Tournament had been honestly a refreshing thing this year, compared to the previous year - which still shook the blonde to think of everything that had happened. This year had been a lot kinder, allowing things to settle but also giving the school something both exciting and positive. Still for the most part Quinn had kept to herself, still adjusting to trying to push herself back from her protective walls she had slipped back behind the previous year. She had allowed herself to enjoy the Tournament though - happily joining in and watching each Task. Now it was nearing the end though and she was eagerly awaiting the Third Task. She had already completed all the work she had to do - and was well into revising - in true Ravenclaw style she was perhaps a little over prepared and had wound up with her weekend free. Instead of being cooped up in the Library she had been outside most of the day - letting herself relax and draw.

Now she had a slight pink to her face - the lightest burn from the sun and a tinge of black across her cheek - her hands were a mess of charcoal along with the black on her face from where she had rubbed at her face a few times. On her way back inside she had realized what a mess she had ended up in and stopped off at a bathroom. Only realizing once inside and looking at a mirror what she had done, she gave a small groan before her eyes landed on the other girl - offering a faint smile as she tried to shift her bag of supplies and not make a mess when she turned on the tap. "Hey M." She spoke in response, a faint smile on her face before looking at her reflection again only to give another little groan of irritation.

"Bloody hell how did I end up with it on my neck?" She was mostly mumbling to herself as she tilted her head. As much as she loved drawing - with basically anything she could, charcoal was a favorite - except for this part. She shifted her bag, rubbing at her hands before trying to wipe it off her face as well, "Have you been revising all day?" It was maybe a strange place for a conversation but, from their interactions - she knew enough to know the other girl was nice enough. Plus it seemed she might be here a bit longer than expected.

maxima ruqayyah greyback

[maxima ruqayyah greyback]

“Hey, M.”

Quinn made her way over to the sinks. Initially, Max thought that what the other girl was washing off was dirt, until she heard her groan and complain about how much of it she'd managed to get all over herself. It looked like it must have been charcoal, Max noticed, and the redness of Quinn's cheeks looked more like sunburn than the result of having tried to rub off the charcoal, which was all over her cheeks and even her neck.

Max tried not to stare as she dried her hands off on her jeans, wondering how in the world the Ravenclaw had ended up in such a mess. Hands, face, neck—all had managed to get covered with charcoal. She was about to turn to leave when a question from Quinn stopped her.

“Have you been revising all day?”

“Yeah,” Max nodded, turning back to see if Quinn had made any progress on the charcoal front. “…Charcoal, right?” she asked, to confirm, with mild amusement. “How'd you get it on your neck?”

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Her hands hurt from the scrubbing, but the darn stuff was stubborn. With another small huff of frustration she decides to try and get it off her neck, hopefully that would be a little easier, green eyes dart over to the other girl - offering a faint smile as she heard a response followed by the questions.

Quinn gives a quick nod, "Yeah - I was trying to practice with some charcoal - but... it slipped my mind how messy it could be. As for ... this -," She waves her hand to her face, "I have no idea how that happened.." she paused to think, shaking her head after a moment, "All I figure is maybe between being outside so much of the day and the charcoal - I must have wiped my face - and my neck apparently." Her eyes narrow as she looks at her reflection, rubbing at the charcoal stains again, at least it had come off her neck and face - but.. her hands. She began to scrub them again, tugging at her sleeves as she tried not to get them wet, "I managed to get some cool drawings finished - but this mess might not be worth it, and apparently I got burnt too." Her cheeks were pink - not too bad of a burn but now it looked almost like she was blushing bad, which might be worse in a way.

Art was messy. It was something she had more or less grown used to - many of her foster parents had hated it for that same reason. It meant a mess and a messy child. But Quinn loved it - drawing, painting - you name it. At school she at least got to draw - almost as much as she wanted to do and no one complained even a little. She was free to go with her passion and no one could tell her not to.


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[maxima ruqayyah greyback]

Quinn seemed to have given up—at least temporarily—on getting the charcoal off of her hands, moving, instead, to her neck. “Yeah—I was trying to practice with some charcoal—but… it slipped my mind how messy it could be,” she explained. “As for… this—” Quinn gestured to the charcoal that was all over her face. “I have no idea how that happened…”

Max gave a slight laugh in response to Quinn's uncertainty as to how she had wound up looking like she did. She couldn't really judge, considering that she had found herself doused in vinegar from the barrels protecting the Hufflepuff Common Room not too long before.

“All I figure,” Quinn continued, “is maybe between being outside so much of the day and the charcoal—I must have wiped my face—and my neck apparently.”

That sounded plausible to Max, who nodded as Quinn went on in her attempt to get the charcoal off of her skin. She was making steady progress; her neck and cheeks were almost entirely free of the black marks, in spite of the fact that her hands were still covered.

“I managed to get some cool drawings finished,” Quinn considered, “but this mess might not be worth it, and apparently I got burnt too.” Instead of rolling up her sleeves to get at the charcoal more easily, Max noticed, Quinn was washing her hands around the sleeves. How the edges of her sleeves hadn't gotten soaked in the process—or why Quinn hadn't just rolled them up—Max couldn't understand.

“The sunburn doesn't look awful,” Max noted as she leaned with her back up against the sink that she had been using earlier, trying to be reassuring. “Though it might be easier to get the charcoal off your hands if you roll up your sleeves first,” she added. Come to think of it, she didn't think that she had ever seen Quinn in anything but long sleeves.

@mnm

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As she heard the other girl laugh, Quinn couldn't help but shake her head - a smile forming on her own face before giving in and laughing a little at herself. It was kind of amusing - honestly she wasn't completely sure how she got it practically all over her, and really - she was surprised that it wasn't worse than it was. Except for her hands - gods, her hands were more charcoal than skin when she had come into the bathroom. There was a brief thought of worry - what if she had accidentally messed up her drawings when she put them away? She had been so focused on getting back inside - she'd have to check on them as soon as she got herself all cleaned up.

It was honestly a bit of a miracle that while cleaning her face that she didn't simply spread the mess from her hands back onto more of her skin, she found herself at ease as she spoke about her drawings, her face lighting up - even with the mess, she was happy with what she got done and it had been completely relaxing. She had needed the break from revising and dealing with some of her more stressed out class mates. As proud as she was to be a Ravenclaw, sometimes her common room got really crazy this time of the year. Hearing Max's comment about her sunburn she gave a tiny nod, her hair falling into her face as she offered a smile, "Thanks - I guess I got lucky, it could have been a lot worse.. I burn so easily." She gave a tiny chuckle, shaking her head once more. But it was what she said next that made the blonde pause.

“Though it might be easier to get the charcoal off your hands if you roll up your sleeves first,”

It... was true, it would be easier - but then, it would also be likely Max might catch sight of something. No.. It'd be fine, Max might not be a close friend - but, she was nice enough - she was sure of that. With a brief moment of considering she game to a desision and carefully rolled one of her sleeves up - just up to her elbows - before doing the same with the other. Although now she had tiny stains on both of her sleeves she didn't pay it any mind, her green eyes instead focusing on several scars on her arms - there were a few that looked old and were practically faded unless you looked to close, but it was the other ones that left a weight on her. Small rounded scars - her eyes stared at them as a memory filled her mind, a lump forming in her throat - quickly she shook her head, gathering more soap as she remained silent, lips pressed together as she scrubbed even harder at her hands - trying to not look at her own arms.


maxima ruqayyah greyback

[maxima ruqayyah greyback]

Quinn—who appeared not to have realized that she hadn't rolled up her sleeves to begin with—rolled her sleeves to her elbows after mentioning that she was lucky that she hadn't burned from being in the sun even more than she had. Max, herself, didn't have an extremely dark complexion, though, in comparison to her, Quinn was very fair—blonde hair, light skin, green eyes.

In fact, Max was focused more on the sunburn than on Quinn's hands, which were still coated in residue from the charcoal she'd been using—until, that was, she saw how intently Quinn was looking down at them. Scars. From where she was positioned, Max could tell that much, even if she couldn't see every detail.

She didn't say anything at first but tried not to stare. Most of the scars—from what she could see of them—looked faded, as though they had been there for a few years, at least. Some of the other marks looked more recent, however. Max turned her head away to look over her shoulder and into the mirror, hoping that Quinn had been too preoccupied by them to notice that she had seen them, too.

Silence, somehow, felt wrong, when the last thing that Max wanted was for Quinn to think that there was anything wrong with having scars. Having some werewolf half-siblings, she'd become accustomed to seeing the various marks that they had either self-inflicted or had gotten from Fenrir. Jamie's left hand was slightly unusual-looking, even, though it was one of those things that one had to look for to know that it was there.

Max looked back to Quinn, who might as well have been rubbing her arms raw. She gestured to her own arms where she could see Quinn's scars on hers, searching for a way to put what she was about to ask without coming across as rude or as if she'd been gawking. “Your… arms,” she noted awkwardly, more of a statement than a question.

@mnm

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Quinn was trying her hardest to not look back at her arms - focusing instead on her hands, perhaps a little too intently really - it was.. .strange. Quinn might not be shy but she was also rarely so self concious. She was proud of who she was - at least to most people. Being Muggleborn - she wasn't ashamed. Being a Lesbian even - she wasn't the slighest bit ashamed. But here she was - embarrased and honestly ashamed to have her arms be seen - to have her scars be seen by someone other than herself. She hated them, she hated them so much. She could feel the faint burn in her eyes - tears building as she unconciously held her breath. Waiting for something - any kind of reaction. It would come.. but she just hoped it wouldn't be disgust.. or worse - pity.

These had been one or two times over her years at Hogwarts were a room mate had spotted a scar or a few - usually just coming to the conclusion that it was self harming. And that look had been there - one that actually made her torn between anger and sadness - pity. Still - she never corrected it. Honestly the idea of self-harm was almost easier to deal with than the truth.. that someone who was meant to care for her - had hurt her. Abuse. She knew that word earlier than most children should even hear of it. Her eyes closed tightly - pushing her feelings aside as she takes a breath - only realizing when she did it that she had been holding her breath for a bit there.

Green eyes only look back up when she saw the slightest movement, her eyes meeting Max before the other girl spoke - those two words almost hitting the blonde as if she had been slapped. Her hands pause - now she had stopped scrubbing she realized her hands were stinging - although now they weren't covered in charcoal - instead they were a fain pink from almost being scrubbed raw. "I.." she froze and reached up, freezing as she was about to pull her sleeves back down only to stop - instead keeping them where they were. "I didn't do it to myself." The words came out softly, barely a whisper - if they hand't been so close - it wouldn't have been heard. Only after saying the words did Quinn realize what she had said - she could have lied, she could have even just ignored the two words, instead - she said the truth. Her right hand gently touches her left arm, covering a few of the rounder scars - one of her foster fathes had been a smoker, those ones happened over the Summer.

maxima ruqayyah greyback

[maxima ruqayyah greyback]

“I…” Max immediately felt a pang of guilt for having brought it up. Quinn looked like she was prepared to pull her sleeves back down again, except she didn't. Her hands were clear of the charcoal now, which made the scars that much more apparent. “I didn't do it to myself,” Max could hear her say, which meant that someone else had caused all of that scarring.

Not sure what to say, Maxima merely watched as Quinn brought her right hand to some of the marks that were on her left. Those were the ones that looked most recent, from what she could see. It answered why Quinn always kept her sleeves pulled down; she was trying to hide whatever had been done to her.

Max moved from leaning up against the sink and let her bag fall back to the ground, turning so that she was at a right angle with where Quinn stood. She could see the scars better, now that she was up close, and paused. “Someone did that to you?” she asked, speaking gently but masking her horror. If someone at school had hurt her—and there were some older students who would have been plenty capable of it—she needed to tell someone.

@mnm

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She was fighting hard, the urge to pull her sleeves down. To pretend that nothing had happened, and that they hadn't been seen. She hated her scars, they were ugly and horrible - and a constant reminder of the horrible things some people did. For no reason other than they could do so. Muggles or Magical - there were cruel people everywhere. Her own eyes watched her hand, able to feel the old scars beneath her finger tips, her eyes burning from tears she refused to shed. If she could - she'd love to forget - to erase them all. But no magic could heal scars, injuries sure but not scars.

^{“Someone did that to you?”}

The words hit Quinn had. Simple words, a simple question. But the answer.. it wasn't so easy or as simple to answer. Truth be told, as her eyes landed back on her arms - knowing they weren't even all of the scars she had, just the most visible - she found it hard to speak up. For it hadn't just been one person, not really - she remembered when she was younger - that woman who still appeared in nightmares, one of the reasons she tried to have a dreamless sleep potion nearby each night. No it hadn't just been 'someone', but several someones over the years. She shook her head slowly, her hair falling into her eyes before she looked back up, pressing her lips together before finally pushing some words out. "Not really.. well kind of but... I guess thats just how Foster Homes can be. Some are good, great even.. but others not so much. I.. It's fine M, they heal and maybe one day they won't be as visible." She tried to smile, it coming out a little more like a struggled grimace though.
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[maxima ruqayyah greyback]

Quinn shook her head, and Max couldn't understand why, when she had just said that she hadn't been the one to hurt herself. At first, her “not really” turned into a “kind of”. “I guess that's just how foster homes can be. Some are good, great even… but others not so much.”

Foster homes? Max blinked. Quinn was a foster child. It had never come up; she'd never mentioned it before. She had known Georgie since their first year and known that she was an orphan, but she had always been under the assumption that anyone who wasn't at the magical orphanage—like Georgie and Lance were—weren't in the Muggle foster care system or anything.

“I… It's fine, M, they heal and maybe one day they won't be as visible.”

“Quinn,” Max interjected bluntly before the Ravenclaw could continue to justify the abuse she had suffered, “that's not normal.” Parents—birth parents, foster parents, adoptive parents—weren't supposed to do that. “It's criminal.” She didn't know the Muggle laws, exactly, but she knew that there was some prohibition of it. (Didn't anyone screen people who were supposed to be looking after children?)

She took in a deep breath, attempting to process what she had just learned while resisting the urge to raise her voice. It wasn't Quinn's fault; she shouldn't have been put through that, but somebody who was meant to be responsible for her well-being had done exactly the opposite of what they were supposed to do. “You need to tell someone.”

@mnm

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Talking about it.. it was strange. Every word seemed to be pushed out - forced to say outloud, while her mind screamed at her to not speak about it. She had just said outloud to one of her class mates that she was a 'Foster Kid', something she hadn't told anyone at school. Her heart clenched - for five years now she had kept her 'home life' away from being spoken of. Among most of her professors it was known she didn't have parents - but the magical world didn't seem to understand a lot of the Muggle foster system. She had more than once wondered if a Wizarding Home would be better - after the previous summer she had seriously considered asking someone - but hadn't really felt she could trust anyone. Yet here she was, blurting out things to Max.

For the first time since her first year - she felt... lost. Tiny and lost. Her usual smile - her usual attitude just disappeared as she avoided eye contact and almost tucked into herself. Actually cringing when Max spoke her name. No wonder she wasn't a Gryffindor...

^{“that's not normal.” - “It's criminal.”}

She knew it to be true, but - it was her life. Nothing in her life was normal, but she knew the way she was treated in some of the homes wasn't right. It was.. abuse. It was wrong. She knew that... but, even as a child - she hadn't really been able to do anything. This past Summer though she almost broke the rules and used magic outside of school - only the fear of not being allowed back was what stopped her. Hogwarts... was her home.

"I..I know M.. I know its not right." Her words were soft, slightly shaking as she wrapped her arms around herself, "I've had some good homes in the past - since Hogwarts.. theres only been one.. bad one. The system.. Its messed up M. Sometimes its okay - most of the time it just sucks. But... its all I know." Her eyes dropped to her feet, staring at her shoes until the next words were spoken from the Slytherin girl - her head jolting up so fast it was almost a surprise she didn't get whiplash.

^{“You need to tell someone.”}

She stopped breathing. For a moment. "I.. tried that..... before I came to Hogwarts. No one listened... People rarely believe the 'poor foster kid'." She had however had a few thoughts - wondering if she should speak up to someone here - someone in the Magical World. If nothing else.. maybe she could end up in a magical home, but - a 'foster home' was always a foster home.. it couldn't really be all that different could it?

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[maxima ruqayyah greyback]

Quinn knew that it wasn't right; she knew that people weren't supposed to hurt her like she had, she said, yet she wrapped her arms around herself like she needed them to be a security blanket. She had had some good homes in the past, she said. Since Hogwarts, there had only been one bad one.

“The system… It's messed up, M.” (Clearly, thought Max, it needed to be better.) “Sometimes it's okay,” Quinn assured her, though that didn't last long before she said that it ”just [sucked]” the rest of the time. ”But… it's all I know.”

The reaction she got from Quinn when she suggested that she tell someone about what had been done to her was enough to make Max jump slightly, herself. She could see the fear in Quinn's eyes, and it was painful to witness. She had tried to bring it up before, before she had ever gone to Hogwarts. It had been at least five years since then, since she had breathed a word about it. “No one listened… People rarely believe the 'poor foster kid’.”

Max reached out and touched Quinn lightly on the shoulder. “I'm listening,” she promised her solemnly. “And I'll go with you. To Professor Riveras or Professor McGonagall or Madam Macmillan.” She understood what it was like to feel closed off from everyone and everything else, though she had had her family there to support her when she had tried to poison herself. Quinn didn't have that, and—now that she knew the Ravenclaw's secret—she couldn't just let it go.

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If she could - Quinn would fix the system. If not for herself - she only had about three years left stuck in it (a little less really) and as soon as she turned Eighteen she would be free from it, but for other kids. Other kids magical or muggle who were shoved into it and tossed around like old toys no-one wanted to keep. She would fix it all if she could, to protect them from being hurt and forgotten about. Her eyes closed briefly - focusing on her breathing as she tried to calm herself, it was okay. Max was good, she was listening - not judging. It was strange, but oddly comforting to let it out even a little. She was sick of being afraid.

She was still worried though, talking about it so much brought everything to the front - out into the open. It wasn't such a secret now and for some reason.. that was a little more scary than she expected it to be. As Max touched her shoulder, her body stiffened before quickly relaxing again

^{“I'm listening,” Those two words.. simple, just two words but they held so much - a promise. A solem promise that she was infact listening - that in some way - Max cared. “And I'll go with you. To Professor Riveras or Professor McGonagall or Madam Macmillan.”}

The idea of going to one of them was one she had thought of before - after coming back after the last Summer she had infact almost done it - she had made it as far as outside Professor McGonagall's office before turning away and hurrying back to the Ravenclaw Common room - she chickened out. Again - it really wasn't a surprise she wasn't in Gryffindor - her Bravery kind of sucked.

While her friends would leave each Summer break to go home - Quinn would wind up back in a Children's Home until being shipped off to a Foster home for the remainer of the break, it was just.. how things were. A sad fact but one that she had grown used to - each break she would count down the days until September First arrived again and she could come back to what she considered her Home. When not at school, Quinn didn't have anyone - here though, she did have friends - some she trusted more than anyone she had ever trusted in her life - but none of them truly knew everything about her life away from school. It wasn't that she didn't trust them - it was more.. she didn't want to have them feel bad for her... to make them upset. To have that sad look she knew they would give her. They had homes, parents - some even had brothers and sisters - they had families.

 Then there was Max who now knew about her scars - who knew she had been in at least one real bad foster home - Max who listened - who promised to go with her to someone.  "I.. I should. But...what can they do to help?" Quinn's hands gripped her arms lightly, her lips pressed together, "Max... Do any of the professors even know about this foster home stuff? The Muggle world is... its different sometimes.." a reminder of yet again, she was a Muggleborn - raised in a non-magic world. 

maxima ruqayyah greyback

[maxima ruqayyah greyback]

“I… I should.” At least, thought Max, Quinn wasn't disagreeing with her there. “But…” She was hesitating again. “What can they do to help?” Max didn't know exactly what they would be able to do, but she knew that the Ministry had ties to the Muggle government, too. They could step in, somehow, she thought; they could get her out of there.

“Max… Do any of the professors even know about this foster home stuff? The Muggle world is… it's different sometimes…”

They had to know something about it. Someone else must have been in that same position of being in the Muggle foster care system; Hogwarts was centuries old. Professor McGonagall alone must have been about ninety years old, herself. And all of the professors at Hogwarts had access to other resources, didn't they? The benefits—getting Quinn out of wherever she was living and ensuring that she wouldn't be hurt again—outweighed the risks.

“Someone's got to,” she assured. There must have been someone at the Ministry who did. Someone, somewhere—Maybe even at the orphanage. Someone must have known enough to know how it all worked from the magical side and how they could help. “You can't give up, Quinn.” She couldn't. She didn't even know what her options were yet.

@mnm