Post by maxima ruqayyah greyback on Jul 9, 2017 18:50:31 GMT -7
March 2024; Hogwarts Grounds
The grounds had emptied of students, for the most part, after the threat of rain had driven most people inside. A steady trickle of raindrops fell from the dark grey skies overhead, yet Maxima Greyback remained seated on a large rock, finishing the assigned chapter in one of her school books. The way she saw it, there wasn't any use in getting up just yet. She only had a few more pages could go, and she could dry them out back in her dormitory if they happened to get too wet.
The earth at her feet had gotten slightly muddy, but Max didn't think much of it. It wasn't too far to get back inside the castle, and it could have been worse. Everyone had guessed that it was going to storm, but there were signs of neither thunder nor lightning so far. It was actually nice that no one had bothered to brave the rain; she could listen to the weather and get some work done, which probably wouldn't be possible back in the Slytherin Common Room.
“Help! Help!” Max thought that she must have been hearing things, but then she heard the cries again. “Help!”
That the calls for help seemed to have come from a small voice was enough to make Maxima Greyback set aside her schoolwork, grab her wand tightly in her hand, and come running. She followed the sound and watched her footing—a good thing, too, when she saw what had happened.
A boy who, by his size, must have been in his first year had slipped and fallen, the leg of his trousers rolled up at his knee to reveal that his leg was bleeding from where he had cut it on something. Max thought that it had to have been a rock, probably, although there was no telling what, exactly, had caused the gash. It could have been a tree root or something like that, too, she thought, although that didn't matter as much as tending to the boy.
“It's okay,” she assured him. He looked pitiful there, with tears in his eyes, not to mention the amount of mud in which he was covered.
Seeing that another student—younger than she was but older than the boy—had stopped to gawk, Max was quick to put them to use. “Go get one of the nurses! Mind your step! Go!” she shouted, both unsure if she would be able to support the boy long enough to walk with him until they reached the Hospital Wing and guessing that someone should at least attempt to make the situation better, instead of a younger student who was likely to make it worse.
Max knelt down beside the injured boy, looking at the injury and searching for something to use as a bandage. Seeing nothing else, she pulled the hem of her robes away from her skin and cast a Severing Charm on the fabric. “Hold still, alright?” she ordered the boy, not wanting him to injure himself further—for one thing—or make it more difficult on her to get the wound dressed.
“O-Okay,” sniffed the boy.
The strip of fabric she had cut off from her robes wasn't entirely even, but it was good enough for what she needed. “This'll only take a minute,” she added. (Well, it wouldn't take her long if the boy didn't squirm, which, so far, he wasn't doing.)
Then, using the fabric, she began to cover the boy's wound. She didn't think anything of raising his injured leg just enough to get the makeshift bandage underneath it; the leg didn't appear to be broken, just cut, and the boy must have been curious enough to look at the injury before she'd gotten there.
It was when her hand made contact with his skin, however, that a strange thing happened. Chalking it up to the rain's having washed the blood away, Max didn't think too much of it… until the boy spoke up.
“How'd you do that?” he asked, sounding mesmerized.
“Do what?” All that she had done was make a bandage out of part of her robes. “I didn't do anything,” she told him, utterly perplexed. She really hadn't done anything, she thought; she hadn't even finished bandaging up his leg.
“What spell did you use? Do you think I could learn it?”
Wondering what the boy was going on about, Max looked again. The blood was gone, but it wasn't just that; the gash itself was gone, too. “But I wasn't using my wand,” she protested. She had only used her wand on her robes. The only thing that she had done was touch the boy's leg, and that had been entirely by accident.
“Of course you did,” said the boy, who then appeared to realize that the only thing in her hand was a dangling piece of black fabric.
Maybe, Max thought, it had been something that he had done without realizing it. It made more sense than the idea that she had had some hand in it. She didn't want to get his hopes up, though, and he seemed so adamant that it had been her doing. “I… don't know.” After all, she was the one in her fifth year; surely she had outgrown performing acts of accidental magic?
The earth at her feet had gotten slightly muddy, but Max didn't think much of it. It wasn't too far to get back inside the castle, and it could have been worse. Everyone had guessed that it was going to storm, but there were signs of neither thunder nor lightning so far. It was actually nice that no one had bothered to brave the rain; she could listen to the weather and get some work done, which probably wouldn't be possible back in the Slytherin Common Room.
“Help! Help!” Max thought that she must have been hearing things, but then she heard the cries again. “Help!”
That the calls for help seemed to have come from a small voice was enough to make Maxima Greyback set aside her schoolwork, grab her wand tightly in her hand, and come running. She followed the sound and watched her footing—a good thing, too, when she saw what had happened.
A boy who, by his size, must have been in his first year had slipped and fallen, the leg of his trousers rolled up at his knee to reveal that his leg was bleeding from where he had cut it on something. Max thought that it had to have been a rock, probably, although there was no telling what, exactly, had caused the gash. It could have been a tree root or something like that, too, she thought, although that didn't matter as much as tending to the boy.
“It's okay,” she assured him. He looked pitiful there, with tears in his eyes, not to mention the amount of mud in which he was covered.
Seeing that another student—younger than she was but older than the boy—had stopped to gawk, Max was quick to put them to use. “Go get one of the nurses! Mind your step! Go!” she shouted, both unsure if she would be able to support the boy long enough to walk with him until they reached the Hospital Wing and guessing that someone should at least attempt to make the situation better, instead of a younger student who was likely to make it worse.
Max knelt down beside the injured boy, looking at the injury and searching for something to use as a bandage. Seeing nothing else, she pulled the hem of her robes away from her skin and cast a Severing Charm on the fabric. “Hold still, alright?” she ordered the boy, not wanting him to injure himself further—for one thing—or make it more difficult on her to get the wound dressed.
“O-Okay,” sniffed the boy.
The strip of fabric she had cut off from her robes wasn't entirely even, but it was good enough for what she needed. “This'll only take a minute,” she added. (Well, it wouldn't take her long if the boy didn't squirm, which, so far, he wasn't doing.)
Then, using the fabric, she began to cover the boy's wound. She didn't think anything of raising his injured leg just enough to get the makeshift bandage underneath it; the leg didn't appear to be broken, just cut, and the boy must have been curious enough to look at the injury before she'd gotten there.
It was when her hand made contact with his skin, however, that a strange thing happened. Chalking it up to the rain's having washed the blood away, Max didn't think too much of it… until the boy spoke up.
“How'd you do that?” he asked, sounding mesmerized.
“Do what?” All that she had done was make a bandage out of part of her robes. “I didn't do anything,” she told him, utterly perplexed. She really hadn't done anything, she thought; she hadn't even finished bandaging up his leg.
“What spell did you use? Do you think I could learn it?”
Wondering what the boy was going on about, Max looked again. The blood was gone, but it wasn't just that; the gash itself was gone, too. “But I wasn't using my wand,” she protested. She had only used her wand on her robes. The only thing that she had done was touch the boy's leg, and that had been entirely by accident.
“Of course you did,” said the boy, who then appeared to realize that the only thing in her hand was a dangling piece of black fabric.
Maybe, Max thought, it had been something that he had done without realizing it. It made more sense than the idea that she had had some hand in it. She didn't want to get his hopes up, though, and he seemed so adamant that it had been her doing. “I… don't know.” After all, she was the one in her fifth year; surely she had outgrown performing acts of accidental magic?
