Someone Better Start Talking [OPEN: Meeting]

December 10, 1922
Hospital Wing Lounge
2:27 PM

Ruth Anaya Elliot was not amused.

Anyone who'd seen the abrupt messages left on each house's notice board would've been able to ascertain as much. There would be a meeting. It would be on Sunday. She wouldn't be accepting complaints or pleas to have it rescheduled. Brief as the meeting was and given the overly stable state of all their patients, Rae didn't expect any excuses.

The lead nurse and second in command to the actual healer leaned against the table in the lounge, waiting for everyone else to pour in. Before her, she held Benji's little sister captive. 2:30 sharp, she'd said. Anyone who managed to walk in even a minute late would find themselves perpetually on the night and weekend shifts until her mood levelled and she was no longer side-eyeing everyone seven ways to Sunday. She glanced over at the clock on the wall, then back to the door. There were already a few gathered, and she'd asked Kathryn to tick them off on the clipboard as they came.

No snacks.

No snacks, no warm beverages, and no indication that this would be a happy-go-lucky, easygoing meeting where she told them what amazing volunteers they were and suggested they took some time off.

No one was taking time off.

Someone was going to provide an explanation.

"More of them should be like you, Kate," Rae said, her arms draped loosely over the younger girl's shoulders from behind. "You'd never dare be late for one of my meetings." Or anything else for that matter. In a lot of ways, the tiny Ravenclaw was rigid and uncompromising, but it didn't bother her when it came to the wing. The sheets were always crisp – and spotless. Patients were always given food on time, even if...she did refuse to feed them, and the girl was making it easier for her to keep track of inventory.

If only those were the problems she had to address today. It would've been easy scowling at the volunteers and reminding them it was what they were signing up for.

"Come in, come in," she said to those who lingered at the door.

"It's a short meeting, but we've got a lot to cover."

And some of them had some explaining to do.

---

OOC: Welcome to this term's official meeting for the hospital wing! You can have your characters arriving for now, reacting as they see fit to having their peaceful Sunday commandeered for bureaucracy and all that fancy stuff. I'll be back to move things along in about 3 days from the time of this post. Completing this meeting thread will earn you 10 points toward passing the hospital wing. If you've got any questions or aren't sure about something, feel free to drop me a PM or hit me up on discord: @danidinardo

"You'd never dare be late for one of my meetings."

Of course, she wouldn't.

Ruth's abrasive nature aside, Kathryn didn't like to be late. Once a time was given, she would be there. The little girl clung to her schedules like a lifeline, depending on them to tell her where she was meant to be, for how long she was meant to be there and what she should be doing at that particular point in the day. It was safe to say that without the little notepad she kept in her shoulder bag, the first year wouldn't have the first idea of what to do with herself. That point had been well proven when the book disappeared from her nightstand not a month back and she'd spent the morning sitting in her mother's private quarters, paralysed by indecision and uncertainty.

By dinner, Julia had returned the book to her. Her mother never told her where she'd found it. In the same way, she'd never explained how it could have disappeared from her nightstand. Kathryn simply assumed it was another of the castle's magic tricks and that her mother had the solution. Beyond that, she gave it no thought.

Her mind should have been on the meeting. Instead, it was on the music room and her inability to practise her ballet for the remaining half hour because Ruth had decided that her dance time was the new time for this impromptu meeting.

It had been enough of an affront that she'd briefly considered skipping the meeting, but as the time drew near, Kathryn wound down with a briefer stretch routine then made her way to the hospital wing. She changed into her wing uniform, not a wrinkle or blemish in sight. The first year paused a moment before the mirror in the locker room to ensure her hair was neat and her bun perfectly in place.

The gesture was in vain as she found herself being held hostage by the older girl. The bun that sat at the back of her head was smushed against Ruth's chest as she held her in place. No doubt, the back of her uniform would be wrinkled when she was finally released.

They were things she tried not to think about, but it was difficult.

Another student entered.

She ticked them off on the list Ruth had given her. Recording the meeting's attendants was her responsibility for the afternoon. It was a role she suspected Avery might have liked, eager as he was to be involved in everything related to the hospital wing. Yet, the clipboard sat in her hand, the quill poised in wait for the entrance of the next student.

Maybe if he tried a little harder, Ruth would choose to provoke him instead.

The thought brought a faint scowl to her lips. She didn't think she'd like that. The boy was already getting too familiar with her mother. He couldn't have her brother's girlfriend, too.

There was a limit.

"You'd never dare be late for one of my meetings."

"Neither would I, Ruth Elliot." Avery sat in his chair, his notebook open on his lap, a quill in his hand ready for diligent note-taking. For some ridiculous reason, Ruth had chosen Kathryn the mute criminal, to be her assistant today, rather than him. It was an outrage, genuinely, when Avery had been so dedicated to the Hospital Wing since September when he'd joined the team.

Kathryn couldn't even bring herself to fetch sheets from the laundry pile, and she got the distinctive honor of sitting at Ruth's side, being the vice-boss of everyone.

It wasn't that Avery wanted to be the boss - maybe he did - but really, he wanted acknowledgement that he was the best volunteer. The smartest, the most capable, the most dedicated. Kathryn was dedicated to her gloves, which he still didn't understand what she wore them for.

Certainly not for any practical reasons that he could discern.

"It's a short meeting, but we've got a lot to cover."

Avery raised his hand, but before he could be called on, he opened his mouth. "Ruth Elliot, could you please provide all the topics we'll cover so I can make a quick bullet-point list?" He glanced at Kathryn and wrinkled his nose slightly. He doubted she asked for a list. He doubted she asked for anything.

Was the boy jealous? Entirely. This was ridiculous.

"Will we be talking about bed-making practices? I don't think we should take such a militarized approach to changing sheets." Another pointed look at Kathryn. "For efficiency's sake, if we have two volunteers making each bed, and not worrying about wrinkles for ten minutes that no one can feel, I've calculated that we can get the entirety of the wing's beds changed in a matter of six minutes and forty-three seconds. Less if we have more patients than the average five on any given day."

It just made mathematical sense that they didn't worry so much about wrinkles.

Thankfully, Tilly was already in the wing when the meeting was scheduled to happen. She just needed to clean up before it started.

There was always something to scrub after digging in the dirt, no matter how careful she was. Typically, she started with gloves on, but they didn’t last long. She needed to feel the dirt, feel the plants. The connection she felt to the earth and the plants required her to get down and dirty.

With fifteen minutes to spare, Tilly cleaned up her tools and workstation in the wing greenhouse, using her wand to scrub everything clean. Returning the tools to their spots, apron to the laundry bin and to-do list back on the clipboard, Tilly ran her finger down the list, checking off more than half that she had taken care of. After the meeting she would work on the others.

Taking some time to clean her hands and change her uniform shirt, she looked in the room and smiled at the young faces already assembled.

"Good afternoon everyone." She said entering.

As she sat down, thankfully a few minutes early for the meeting, she took her braids down and combed her fingers through her hair. With the practiced ease of someone who did this on a daily basis, Tilly braided her long red hair into a tight French braid, then wrapping it into a bun to keep it out of her face.

"Ruth Elliot, could you please provide all the topics we'll cover so I can make a quick bullet-point list?"

Tilly smiled at the first year, full of enthusiasm and ready to learn. Had she been that enthusiastic as a first year? That was an easy answer… Nope.

Kate was standing with the clipboard, checking names off as everyone came in. Tilly gave her a little wave and a smile. She didn’t expect a response, but she wouldn’t be ignoring her.

"For efficiency's sake, if we have two volunteers making each bed, and not worrying about wrinkles for ten minutes that no one can feel, I've calculated that we can get the entirety of the wing's beds changed in a matter of six minutes and forty-three seconds. Less if we have more patients than the average five on any given day."

She tried to cover her snicker with a cough behind her hand. Barely able to hold it together, little Avery was definitely in it to win it. "Come in, come in, It's a short meeting, but we've got a lot to cover."

"Neither would I, Ruth Elliot."

Indeed.

Just over three months into this volunteering thing, and Avery, like Kathryn, had proven himself to be reliable. This wasn't to say that most of the volunteers weren't – not many people were willing to sign up and have their time taken by the sick and injured unless they had actual plans to show up. Rather, he was the persistent kind of eager, the sort that volunteered for extra and did even the things that weren't required. In many ways, Avery reminded her of herself when she'd first started in the wing.

His only flaw, if she had to name one, was how often he went back and forth with Benji's little sister. How the boy managed to pick squabbles with a girl who didn't even talk was beyond her, but when they got into it, both became far less useful to her and the wing.

She'd already threatened to kick them out more than once – had, on the odd occasion, when they truly couldn't knock it off. The boy always looked so hurt. Had it not been such a disruption, the Slytherin may have considered ignoring them, but if there was one thing Rae needed, it was order on the wing.

"And you'll keep that up," she replied. "Tardiness is a horrid look. Don't go letting things distract you."

"Ruth Elliot, could you please provide all the topics we'll cover so I can make a quick bullet-point list?"

Like himself. Avery Hale could absolutely distract himself.

"Will we be talking about bed-making practices? I don't think we should take such a militarized approach to changing sheets. For efficiency's sake, if we have two volunteers making each bed, and not worrying about wrinkles for ten minutes that no one can feel, I've calculated that we can get the entirety of the wing's beds changed in a matter of six minutes and forty-three seconds. Less if we have more patients than the average five on any given day."

"Argue with your girlfriend on your own time. We're here for more important things." If Kathryn wanted to make sure the place looked unnaturally well put together, it was no skin off Rae's back. Kate couldn't – or wouldn't – perform magic and didn't like the patients. It was...her own little means of contribution, she supposed.

"Hey, Tilly," she greeted as her friend entered the lounge. "Saw any stragglers on the way in?"

Did any dare linger after coming this far?

She wouldn't wait to find out. Instead, with a flick of her wand, she sent the door creaking shut.

"Right then," with a pat on the little girl's head, Rae relinquished Kathryn and moved to the centre of the room. "First order of business is probably the most egregious. It's bad enough we've got patients on their metaphoric death beds begging for candy like addicts. Why do I have volunteers snacking right through their shifts?" Not all of them, thankfully, but enough that she'd begun to notice.

Did they need another lecture from Healer Graham on the ill-effects of too much sugar? It could be arranged.

Rae had noticed the craze sweeping across the castle and had been fine to ignore it until it came to her front door.

"New policy starts now: no candy inside the wing, not even in the lounge," where food was permitted. "If you see patients trying to sneak some, vanish it immediately. If you don't know how yet, find a senior volunteer and have them do it. If the patients resist, kick them out, injuries and all – don't tell the healer I said that, but you should absolutely be doing it."

Rae nodded toward the group.

"Empty your pockets, all of you." This cancer ended here.

---

OOC: The update is in! Once again, you can have your characters reacting, participating, resisting – whatever you'd like. I'll be aiming for around 3 days from this post for the next update.

What a perpetual kiss-up.

Kathryn stared unblinking at the boy who moved to ingratiate himself with Ruth before delivering his disparaging words about the care she took with the wing's linen. It was water off a duck's back, Avery's thinly veiled reprimands washing over her without leaving a drop of her wet. If he couldn't understand the importance of presentation and order, then maybe he should find another activity with which to occupy his time outside of classes. The wing would certainly be quieter.

"Argue with your girlfriend on your own time. We're here for more important things."

Kathryn stiffened at the insult and the implication that she could be involved in Avery's folly. They weren't arguing. He was. He was the one trying to derail the meeting with petty complaints about how the beds were made and the sheets folded, and he was the one who needed the reprimand for him to focus.

Very typical for him.

She hoped that whatever little shame the boy possessed would force him quiet for the rest of the meeting, though she doubted it would. It took a lot to discourage Avery and even more for that discouragement to take effect. She remembered her mother calling him 'tenacious' once. It was the first time she'd heard that word. Once she knew the meaning, she couldn't understand why the woman would go so far out of her way to call him 'annoying'.

Matilda entered and offered her a wave. She was one of Benny's friends. They were the only ones who paid her much of any mind. The wave was noted. It wasn't returned.

Kathryn grimaced at the head pat, a gloved hand immediately reaching up to smooth whatever the older girl may have ruffled out of place. She couldn't understand why so many in the castle held the inaccurate assumption that she was inclined toward physical displays of affection. They never stopped to consider the way their hugs made her uniforms wrinkle or the strands of hair they sometimes loosened in their attempts to squish her into their chests. Ruth might have been the worst offender if Kaitlyn Dwyer didn't exist.

While she ran her hand along the smoothed strands, she listened to the beginning of the meeting.

Candy?

Kathryn had seen several of her house and yearmates buzzing around the castle. Some had offered her a taste; all had been denied. One sweet would turn into two, then three, then seven, then thirty-three. She would suffer the moment her leotards stopped fitting. If they were no longer allowed in the wing at all, then all the better. Some of them had become quite insane after partaking. The correlation was too stark for her to not notice.

When instructed to, the little girl turned out her pockets and waited for further instruction.

“First order of business is probably the most egregious. It's bad enough we've got patients on their metaphoric death beds begging for candy like addicts. Why do I have volunteers snacking right through their shifts?"

Awwww, no surprise there. Tilly had seen first hand how insane this candy craze was getting. Owls delivering boxes on the daily. Fights breaking out over a lolly pop. Detentions were ridiculously large, full of students with varying levels of emotional instability. Outbursts, crying, yelling, the inability to sit still for even a second and the occasional breaking out into song. It was a lot, and as of yet, there was nothing the castle could do to stop it.

"New policy starts now: no candy inside the wing, not even in the lounge. If you see patients trying to sneak some, vanish it immediately. If you don't know how yet, find a senior volunteer and have them do it. If the patients resist, kick them out, injuries and all – don't tell the healer I said that, but you should absolutely be doing it."

Tilly smiled, snickering behind her hand at Rae kicking students out of the wing with injuries. She would bet a large amount of money that it would never happen. Rae was too diligent to do such things. She would, absolutely, dispose of all the candy though.

"So vanish, destroy, blow up? As long as they are no longer edible? On it."

Mercy on those souls that tried to hide it from her.

RIP

"Empty your pockets, all of you." Tilly stood up, shoving her hands in her pockets. Which was easy, she had very few pockets to hide things in. Pulling out a small parchment with notes scribbled, a random mint leaf and three hair ties, Tilly showed her friend everything and shoved the items back in. No candy to be found.

To be honest, baked goods were what Tilly craved. Sure, she liked candy just fine, but hadn’t felt the need to try the new line from Butterwand. And now, after the last Hogsmeade Weekend, where Alice and Drago were found snogging, Tilly would be staying far away from the candy.

Far, Far, FAR away.

Avery beamed, cheeks rising so high with his smile that his eyes squinted into them. The boy loved praise, thrived on it. He was the epitome of a middle child, always doing his best to stand out, eating every morsel of it up when he was recognized. Ruth Elliot was a tough nut; he’d learned that quickly, and praise from her felt like winning a five mile race on foot.

But just as quickly, his good mood was dashed, the implication of Kathryn being his girlfriend causing him to flood with annoyance. He sighed, rolling his eyes as his smile fell and his shoulders slumped. Avery wouldn’t mind a girlfriend, he supposed, if she was the right sort and not some wrinkle warden.

Rather than protest, the boy pursed his lips, giving Matilda a polite nod of his head as she settled in with them. At least it wasn’t just him, Ruth Elliot and Mafia Kate. He was outnumbered with those two. At least Matilda was…nice. And she talked.

"First order of business is probably the most egregious. It's bad enough we've got patients on their metaphoric death beds begging for candy like addicts. Why do I have volunteers snacking right through their shifts?"

He would never. Avery, if nothing else, was dedicated to his work and his reputation that followed it. His grades and accolades meant the world to him, and he’d never compromise them for something so trivial as candy. He wasn’t that big on sweets. A little lolly here or there, but otherwise he preferred more savory snacks. The boy was energetic enough and he knew he didn’t need any sugar to help him along.

He jotted down a few sentences, listening attentively and making a mental note to keep his eye out for any candy rule-breakers. If he could catch them in the act, he could snitch them out to Ruth Elliot, unashamed. Avery wasn’t above cut-throat measures if it was the road he needed to take to the top.

"If you see patients trying to sneak some, vanish it immediately. If you don't know how yet, find a senior volunteer and have them do it. If the patients resist, kick them out, injuries and all – don't tell the healer I said that, but you should absolutely be doing it."

Well…that seemed a little more severe than simply snitching. “Ruth Elliot?” Avery asked, raising his hand, but again, not waiting to be called on. His question was too important to wait. “What if the patient is actively dying? Surely we shouldn’t send them out into the hall to die because they wanted a last treat. I mean, I’ll do it if that’s what you say, but I just think the optics wouldn’t be the best and maybe the Hospital Wing would need some real rehabilitation in its image after if we actually lost a patient in the hallway. I know,” a deep breath before he continued, “Back home, we had a bloke for a neighbor and he told everyone at the church that he was being possessed by the devil. And none of us believed him because that’s some really weird stuff right, and this bloke he’d always been weird and said weird stuff. Well then one day, they found him, dead in the middle of town with really weird symbols carved all over him. My dad thinks he was just a nutter who did it to himself, but my mum’s convinced it really was something bad like the bloke said.” He paused, only for emphasis. “Anyway, the whole village was scared for like a year and a half, until the church priest insisted it wasn’t the devil, but I guess the moral of the story is if someone’s dying maybe don’t throw them in the hallway?”

He blinked, waiting for her answer, his tangent having gone on a complete detour from the candy conversation and not quite relevant, but now everyone knew the risks. “I’ll do it though.”

Just so she knew he wasn’t being contrary.

He stood, reaching into his pockets and pulled out a few extra quills, some crumpled pieces of paper, and a muggle watch, so he could ensure he was always on time to his classes.

Avery wouldn’t be caught with any contraband when he was meant to be working, especially not candy that seemed to have strange effects.

So, here she was, in a place she had marginally managed to avoid since the start of her school career. The Hospital Wing. Oh, and not for the first time since September, either. There was no particular altruistic reason that Ellen had signed up to volunteer here, only for the simple fact that she had time on her own hands.

Sixth year had proven, thus far, to be full of studying, but significantly less stressful than fifth year. With O.W.L.s behind her and N.E.W.T.s still at a distance, the hours had opened up, and an unoccupied hour was, in her view, an hour poorly arranged. And to supplant unused time with something purposeful, useful, was very much in her interest.

Healing magic was practical. It was a skill that existed outside the classroom, outside examinations, outside the narrow framework of academic performance that had governed her life for five years. One could not O.W.L. their way through a real injury. Either you knew how to mend it or you did not, and that clarity appealed to her. Not to mention, to be able to say she knew healing magic was a definite upside.

That she was about to walk into a lounge, commandeered by Ruth Elliot, of all people, was simply the consequence of that decision.

Ruth Elliot. The Ruth.

A staircase on the third floor had shifted on her way down here, not dramatically, just enough to cost her thirty seconds she hadn't accounted for, and so late, although not very late, Ellen stepped through the wing, hurried through with a ruffled greeting to Healer Graham, and straight to the lounge, where the muffled sound of a vaguely distinct voice already underway flittered through the wood and gaps of the door. By now, three months in, she knew the rhythm of these meetings, knew the layout of the lounge, knew where to sit, but she had not yet had the distinct pleasure of being late.

She grasped the handle of the door, the opening announcing itself before she did, and she entered without fanfare, merely pausing to take in the composition of the room-

Ruth and.. pockets?

The little first years had their pockets turned out (the blond one- the one she recalled as Kathryn was also holding a clipboard); Matilda was here, of course- all standing.

Huh.

"I apologize, the staircases were being somewhat tricky," she began, properly, and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

And that was simply another fact of volunteering here: Ruth was in charge, and Ellen was not.

That was the thing she still hadn't quite settled with.

Not the authority itself. Ruth had earned her position here; that was plain, and Ellen could respect earned authority the way she respected any proper arrangement of duties. It was the particular flavor of it, the fact that the last time she and Ruth had occupied the same hierarchical structure, it had been the other way around. The library. The muffin. The scattered books and the bauble and Ellen's voice going tight and sharp with a frustration she could no longer contain — "Does this mean anything to you?" — and Ruth had never answered, not really, and then the world had cracked open and the order of things had rearranged itself around a crisis that made their small dispute irrelevant, and so it had simply... lingered. Unresolved. A conversation neither of them had ever found the right moment to have, and now likely never would, because how did you go back to a muffin after a tower?

You didn't.

"What have I missed?"

Kathryn, bless her heart, silently did as she was told.

Avery, bless his heart a little harder, hadn't yet learned that art. Rae wasn't hosting a conference or a Q&A. She was telling them what they would be doing moving forward and didn't need an 11-year-old trying to be pedantic about something for which she'd been absolute.

“What if the patient is actively dying? Surely we shouldn’t send them out into the hall to die because they wanted a last treat. I mean, I’ll do it if that’s what you say, but I just think the optics wouldn’t be the best and maybe the Hospital Wing would need some real rehabilitation in its image after if we actually lost a patient in the hallway. I know.”

Rae blinked. Healer Grantham had said that she needed to be patient and understanding in the face of all volunteers, even the ones she didn't feel so patient toward. Avery was a cute kid when his mouth was shut. Helpful when he just moved each time she spoke. "That is what I want. Why ask me questions like that? You either do it or stop showing up for your shifts. We don't handle the terminally ill. We handle the mentally deficient, those with milder illnesses, and Gryffindors who refuse to learn better. None will drop dead if placed outside because they refuse to adhere to hospital wing policy."

But he wasn't done.

It took everything in her not to roll her eyes.

"Meetings are not sharing time. They're for me to give information and you to become as quiet as Kathryn. Don't make me have to bring you into the office to explain that again." Or he'd find the hospital wing wasn't so in need of his services. Now that the school population had stabilised, they weren't hurting for people. "Healers, especially volunteers, listen more and talk less." Several had already complained about having to be on shift with the boy. They said he never shut up and made it difficult for them to concentrate on their work. Ironically, Kathryn was the only one who didn't.

She turned to the larger group, those who'd known better than to go trying to soften her rule.

"If I catch you harbouring those candy addicts, you're off duty until I feel like it. Don't take that risk." It could be a while.

"So vanish, destroy, blow up? As long as they are no longer edible? On it."

She turned to her ginger friend with a firm nod. Someone who got it and wasn't trying to waste time changing or softening her mind. Tilly was a good one.

"Correct. We have a strict no tolerance polic—"

Click.

Hm?

The door swung open before she could finish her sentence. Ellen. Of all people. The girl didn't have a record of being either late or irresponsible. In this case, neither was true. Rae had called her meeting. She'd made the time clear. Patients didn't wait for your minor inconveniences to pass.

"I apologize, the staircases were being somewhat tricky."

Not good enough.

"Everyone else was here on time." A room full of volunteers and no Ellen Graymere. Imagine that.

"What have I missed?"

Rae's jaw set. The girl had the audacity. The Slytherin gestured for her mini-assistant to hand her the clipboard as she tried to remember the words of the healer who suggested she not be so...rough. "Your chance to get out of tonight's night shift. You're working all nights for the next week. When someone's late, they clam up then get the details from someone after. They don't interrupt so brazenly."

She would...admittedly, have to have another meeting with the healer. The 'softer words' message had not landed.

"Head over to the locker room, we're doing an impromptu inspection. Don't let me catch you checking through your own shit. If you find something, report it immediately. When you're done, head onto the floor, check the patients, too."

Rae blinked incredulously at the slowness with which they responded. Not fast enough for her liking.

"Why're you all still standing here. Get that shit out of the hospital wing."

---

OOC: The next update is in! Sorry, I was out for most of yesterday. You can roleplay your character either finding candy or not. Plenty of NPC volunteers, not just those who are posting, so if you wanna have a big bust, you can! Maybe your character isn't a snitch and would never give up a friend. Maybe a patient breaks down and begs. It's all up to you~! I'll be aiming for around 3 days from this post for the final update.

Kathryn always knew his mouth would get him in trouble. Hadn't it already?

The little girl maintained her stony silence through Ruth's reprimand – both Avery's and Ellen's – content to remain where she was, clipboard in hand, until it was called for. When the older Hufflepuff made her way in, she put a neat little tick by her name before scrawling in well-formed cursive the word 'late' for the head nurse's benefit. The Ravenclaw was nothing if not diligent and thorough.

"Head over to the locker room, we're doing an impromptu inspection. Don't let me catch you checking through your own shit. If you find something, report it immediately. When you're done, head onto the floor, check the patients, too."

In...spection?

They would have to go touching other people's things? Others would be putting their ungloved hands on hers? Merlin only knew where they'd been since morning and the things they'd touched. What if they didn't wash their hands? The thought sent a shiver up her spine. Kathryn had learned to take nothing for granted. Being a volunteer within the wing didn't necessarily denote 'cleanliness'. She knew for a certainty that the first year that stood by Avery picked his nose when he thought no one was looking. Once, she'd seen him taste it. Her blood ran cold at the memory, her head going light when he moved to follow Ruth's instructions.

Without hesitation, Kathryn crossed the room to take Avery by the hand. She silently tugged him to go with her as the others began filing out of the room.

Avery washed his hands.

She'd never seen him do it, but with all he spoke of hygiene, he was her safest bet.

Inside the locker room, she offered him her bag and nudged him to stand before her locker just as Marvin Finkle drew close with his nose full of boogers that he'd acquired a taste for. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as he waved to her, the girl bristling at the familiarity he assumed between them. Rather than wave back, she turned to Avery's locker with equal certainty that she wouldn't find anything problematic there.

Marvin could find someone else to harass with his germs.

As expected, nothing that would require further action. Kathryn's gaze swept across the contents of the boy's locker, her eyes doing the job her hands refused to. Reaching one finger out, she poked lightly at something. No candy there. The boy was clean.

She stood by the door waiting patiently for him to conclude his own search so they could move on to the patients.

Already, she could hear someone screaming: "BUT IT'S JUST A LITTLE—WAIT, WAIT, AT LEAST LET ME FINISH IT THEN!"

They would not be going to that one.

Avery's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing slightly as Ruth Elliot, the queen boss of everybody thought to reprimand him in front of the entire meeting. He hadn't done anything wrong. He'd only shared his experience with these sort of matters, but apparently Ruth Elliot wasn't of the mind for learning from others. She was a Slytherin, and they weren't exactly known for their brains.

Should he give her some grace? Avery shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He wanted to be the best volunteer in the Hospital Wing, and he wanted to be on Ruth Elliot's good side. She was obviously in solidly with Healer Graham, and if she liked him, it could only mean good things for him too.

But Avery Calder Hale wasn't one to be put in his place for no good reason.

"That is what I want. Why ask me questions like that? You either do it or stop showing up for your shifts. We don't handle the terminally ill. We handle the mentally deficient, those with milder illnesses, and Gryffindors who refuse to learn better. None will drop dead if placed outside because they refuse to adhere to hospital wing policy."

"Does Healer Graham know that policy?" Avery asked, his lips turning down in derision, unwilling to let his concerns go over an older volunteer with a god complex. All thoughts and concerns should be welcome in a learning environment, and if Ruth Elliot didn't know how to work collaboratively, the eleven year old mused she didn't belong in a leadership position in the first place.

"Meetings are not sharing time. They're for me to give information and you to become as quiet as Kathryn. Don't make me have to bring you into the office to explain that again. Healers, especially volunteers, listen more and talk less."

He didn't appreciate being compared to Kathryn, the girl who did little and said even less. She was fairly useless around the wing, whereas he went out of his way to be helpful and productive. Had there been complaints about him? A few as far as he knew, from others who hadn't studied medicine or best practices the way he had since September. It wasn't his fault that they needed help and guidance, and he wasn't going to be paired up with people who didn't know what they were doing.

Still, he'd pick this battle. The boy crossed his arms, making a mental note about this little interaction he wouldn't soon forget. The next time he had Healer Graham's ear, he'd make sure to tell her all about the dictatorship that Ruth Elliot thought she was running, and the way she talked to junior healers when they had simple concerns and questions.

He barely registered Ellen entering, but notated the little interaction that Ruth had with her as well. So rude and abrupt. Ellen was nice, if not a little quiet and didn't deserve all that.

In his head, Avery was creating a long list of offenses Ruth Elliot had committed in the name of the Hospital Wing.

"Head over to the locker room, we're doing an impromptu inspection. Don't let me catch you checking through your own shit. If you find something, report it immediately. When you're done, head onto the floor, check the patients, too. Why're you all still standing here. Get that shit out of the hospital wing."

"So unprofessional," Avery muttered as he rose to his feet, tucking his little notebook into his robe pockets. Before he could register what was happening, the feeling of warm silk slipped into his hand. Blinking, the boy looked down, seeing the small gloved hand of his self-proclaimed rival taking hold of his own, and without a word, he allowed himself to be led away.

Perhaps it was the rumination going on in his brain. Perhaps it was his annoyance at Ruth Elliot that shut out any conflicting thoughts or feelings, but his own fingers wrapped lightly around Kathryn's hand, finding a strange sort of comfort after being so rudely blasted in front of everyone.

For a moment, Avery missed his mum.

In the locker room, he obediently took Kathryn's bag as she positioned him in front of her locker. Normally he'd insist he could pick his own partner, but as dejected as he felt, there was little fight left in the boy. His eyes briefly cast to the side as Marvin Finkle approached, and Avery's face contorted in disgust. "Piss off, Marvin," Avery jabbed, his foul mood now finding a target. He wasn't normally so abrasive, but his day had taken a turn for the worst, and he didn't fancy Marvin's nasty hands rifling through his stuff.

With an understanding nod, Avery opened Kathryn's locker, expecting to find exactly what lingered inside. Nothing but a spare pair of gloves, a few books and a...freshly dead something.

Well. Ruth Elliot hadn't said they couldn't keep corpses in here. With a small shrug, Avery closed Kate's locker again. "Looks fine to me," he said, putting the thought of the dead whatever out of his mind. She'd probably killed it. It only leant to his assumptions that she was a murderer, waiting for the right time to pounce on a bigger victim.

He sighed, his eyes glancing down the hall a bit at the scream that came from that direction, before turning his attention back to Kathryn. "You shouldn't care about her approval so much," Avery said, despite how much he'd wanted it just a bit ago. "She's dumb. Smart people don't talk to others the way she does."

Shit.

It was a wretched, unwelcome word to go worming into the creases of her mind. Ellen knew well enough what it meant - dung, stool, the sort of coarse bodily realities she preferred to ignore - but she also knew it held a different meaning. It was an expletive of the lowest order, the sort of Anglo-Saxon crudity that earned a child a mouth washed out with carbolic soap. It belonged to the gutter, the sort of language absent from respectable print, yet there it sat, obstinate and foul, in her own thoughts.

Courtesy of Ruth Elliot.

And unexpectedly, it hurt.

She didn't know what she was to Ruth. Through no small fault of her own, of course. But even without clarification, she'd had hoped.. or at least, operated under the unconscious assumption that they were cordial. Not friendly, not close, but cordial. Because they knew each other. They had been Sorted in the same year, in different houses, with the same end goal. They were the same age, linked within the same circle of individuals, and that had to count for something.

The hurt wasn't clean enough to separate from the rest of it. That was the problem. She couldn't point to the cursing and say that was what stung, or the night shifts, or the dismissiveness, because none of those things existed in isolation. They were part of a whole—a Ruth who had spoken to her like that, who swore before young children, repeatedly, as though it were unremarkable. As though the children present, some of whom could not have been older than eleven, ought simply to absorb that a prefect and a lead volunteer considered shit an appropriate word for a professional setting.

That, alone, had startled her. Took her aback. But it was the punishment, too. And not even because of it.

Not even because of the inconvenience of it, though that was considerable - seven nights of sleep surrendered during one of the most demanding academic years either of them would face? Ruth knew that. Ruth was living that. And still she had assigned the punishment as though it were nothing, as though a week of night shifts for thirty seconds of lateness was simply the proper order of things, which it was not, and Ellen could not be the only one who saw that.

But no. Not even because of that.

It was the way Ruth had looked at her.

The last time they had stood opposite one another, truly opposite, it had been in the library, and it seemed like everything led back there, for them. Or, perhaps, just for Ellen.

Still, that had mattered. To Ellen, it had mattered.

And now Ruth looked at her as though it hadn't happened at all.

Perhaps it hadn't. Perhaps she had been carrying that interaction in a way that Ruth had simply... set down. Two years was not nothing. And between that library and this lounge, there had been a tower, and Ruth had been taken to it, and whatever had happened inside it had happened to a girl who had once eaten a muffin in front of her and smiled while doing it. Ellen could not, would not, pretend to know what that did to a person. It stood to reason that it did something. That a girl who had been tortured might emerge harder, sharper, less inclined toward the soft considerations she might once have extended. That was not unreasonable. That was not even surprising.

But.

But there was a difference between harder and careless. Between sharper and cruel. A firm warning for lateness would have been authoritative. Proper, even. Ellen would have accepted it without complaint, because lateness was lateness, and authority that was proportionate was authority worth respecting. But a week of night shifts for thirty seconds? Without so much as a pause, a—ah, Graymere, don't make a habit of it—anything that suggested Ruth saw her as someone who had been in her life, however peripherally, for five years?

That wasn't hardness. That was something else.

And Ellen did not know if it was the tower or if it was simply Ruth, and the not-knowing was its own particular discomfort. Because if it was the tower, then there was something sad beneath it, and sadness was harder to be affronted by, and if it just.. wasn't, if this had always been there, coiled, waiting for authority to permit it, then what did she actually know about her? Beyond this vague abstraction she's been carrying in her mind since that day?

"Of course, Elliot," she said. Simply as that. And then she turned, followed the flood out of the door and toward the locker room, her thoughts still half-caught on what had just happened and half-dragged toward what she was now expected to do.

Once there, Ellen found hers without difficulty. Third from the left, two down from Matilda's- and opened it to reveal exactly what she had expected: spare uniform, a hairbrush, a folded handkerchief, some books for the quieter moments. No candy, naturally.

She checked the adjacent locker, running her gaze along the shelves, nudging a folded jumper aside with the tip of her finger. Nothing. A third locker, similarly clean. A fourth yielded a single sugar quill, which she Vanished, promptly.

Around her, the others worked. The two she had noted earlier- Kathryn and Avery, had paired off, the tiny Ravenclaw steering the boy by the hand in a way that suggested she simply did not trust anyone else near her belongings. The girl was a Laurence, no wonder Ruth seemed to fawn over her.

Ellen moved past all of them, thorough but not slow, and just tried to get on with the task.

When...had she ever given the impression that she was running a democracy or an open panel discussion on the way the hospital wing should be run? Did she look like a Hufflepuff?

It was strange for her, seeing the hurt and anger Avery harboured, thinking his muttered comments might ruffle the girl who'd spent her life looking disdain in the face and had learned to grin through it. Rae chased softness. A soft life, a soft boyfriend, soft afternoons in the gardens whenever she was free. This was all true and had become a resilient part of her—but life had made her rough early on. It had robbed her of that delicate touch many might expect from those working with the ill and the infirm. If she didn't have it for them, she certainly wouldn't have it for a chatty little boy who couldn't just do what she said and move along.

She wasn't looking for partners, only people who could help her achieve a smoothly running hospital wing and keep the patients both in good health and in line.

He could complain to Healer Graham if he wanted, and his question certainly suggested that he planned to. She wouldn't stop him. Merlin knew the lead nurse had better things to do than worry about the gripes of an 11-year-old.

Ellen's rigidity went entirely unnoticed.

For Rae, the girl always seemed a bit...stiff with her. They'd never been the sort of friends who sat and made flower crowns together or who stood shoulder to shoulder in the hospital wing, pouring in hours together because of a mutual obsession with healing and the wing. Ellen was simply...Ellen. Reserved, a bit serious and not easily amused. Rae accepted her for all that, considering her a more distant friend who just happened to be a little odd. Plenty of Hogwarts kids were odd, herself likely included for wholly different reasons.

If she spent all her time worrying about the moods of others, she would never get anything done.

"BUT IT'S JUST A LITTLE—WAIT, WAIT, AT LEAST LET ME FINISH IT THEN!"

Like this. This needed to be done.

Rolling her eyes, Rae exited the locker room in search of the commotion. Another of them stuck in the candy craze, already beyond reason.

She walked to the other side of their bed, accio-ing the candy as she did. "Don't make her have to search you. Got any more we need to take?"

The patient hesitated, as if wondering how worth it a lie might have been before fishing out another handful they'd stashed beneath the pillow. Merlin's soggy beard, these people were ridiculous. Wasn't it the same candy that had been available all throughout the years they'd been attending? Why go crazy about it now?

Rae went around the wing, ignoring the grumbles and whispers until she was satisfied, then she called them all back to order in the middle of the floor.

"Good work, team. Now that we've purged the area, I'll need everyone on high alert to make sure we don't have any breaches. Don't be caught aiding and abetting. Even Healer Graham is at her wit's end with this stuff and will be taking it very seriously if any of our volunteers are feeding the problem. If no one's got questions, you're all free to go. I'll see you tonight, Ellen."

Prone as Rae was to the night shifts herself, it had taken her a while to realise others saw it as punishment, but here they were.

"Kate, will you take these back to the healer's office before you leave?"

She had a library shift to get to.

---

OOC: And that's a wrap for this meeting. Thanks so much for coming, everyone! If you haven't gotten all three posts, feel free to post again with the ending. Even if you have, but wanted to post a closer, you're also more than free. Look out for the emergency drill. It should be out maybe around the end of the month or the start of July. Those who met the thread requirements will be receiving 10 points toward passing. I'll leave this thread open a few more days for anyone who plans to post.

Avery's fingers tightening around her own took her by surprise. Kathryn wasn't prepared for the sudden introduction of added pressure, and for a second, she didn't know whether she was meant to do something about it.

Did she pull it back? The sensation was neither pleasant nor unpleasant, just...pressure. The greater shock was how easily he went along. No need for silent insistence, no need for explanations she never intended to give and a sharp rebuke for the booger eater to boot.

The sharpness of his response had her raising an eyebrow.

Avery, the chatty, excitable, insufferable boy that he was, had never spoken to anyone like that before—not while she was standing there anyway. He more often shared stories no one asked about and vomitted words at speeds that made people's heads spin. Hers spun sometimes when he dumped too much information at one time and she was struggling to process it. She didn't know how he could go the way he did, but he never showed signs of slowing down enough for her to catch up. They butted heads a lot, according to others, but he'd never spoken to her like that either.

It was unbecoming, she decided. Words that had no place in his mouth. Behaviour that disrupted the standard he'd carved himself through the months they'd worked together. At the same time...she felt...lighter. Was it relief? Was it something else? She couldn't say, but Kathryn wasn't angry that Avery had managed to deflect Marvin before he could get those nasty fingers on anything that either of them owned. The Gryffindor boy looked offended by the way he'd been spoken to. Kathryn looked away, understanding it wasn't anything to do with her.

"Looks fine to me."

Of course it did. Her workspace was immaculate. Sugar would encourage ants, and ants would eat through her pages. There were too many reasons to not be in possession of the now illegal substance.

"You shouldn't care about her approval so much."

Kathryn's head cocked to the side, her pale eyes swirling with questions. Approval? Ruth's approval? Had she given the impression that she cared? She didn't know. Doing as she was told was second nature to the girl. It hadn't occurred to her that, when paired with her silence, it could be interpreted as any sort of craving for someone's praise and adoration. The first year didn't dislike Ruth the way Avery now seemed to. She'd known the girl long enough for her to have etched herself into her nervous system the way Avery had. His brother's girlfriend simply...was. That was all. She was, and Kathryn acted accordingly.

It was also less work for her to do as the girl said, rather than having her fuss and make her do it anyway.

Was...was that...approval? Being told more things she needed to do?

She pinched onto the sleeve of his shirt, tugging him back into the main room to continue the inspection while Ruth addressed a particularly defiant patient.

"She's dumb. Smart people don't talk to others the way she does."

Dumb. She didn't know. Kathryn had never seen Ruth's grades but had been told they needed to be near perfect if she had any plans of getting into the healer programme when she graduated. Could dumb people be healers? Marvin didn't seem to have much issue, but he wasn't a real healer by any means, and his bed making was infinitely worse than Avery's.

No candy.

Just patients.

When it was finally over, she obediently took the clipboard Ruth extended to her, then looked to Avery, standing in what, to most, would look like silent expectation, but the boy may by now have been able to pick up as a question as to whether he'd be coming along.

It was adorable watching the younger students trip over themselves to impress Rae. What they didn’t seem to realize, or were too stupid to understand, was that Rae couldn’t be sweet talked. She couldn’t be tricked. In fact… try it, see how that works out for you.

When it came to the Hospital Wing, what Rae said was law. There was no reason to question it, that would only bring yourself grief and her joy in crushing you under her boot heel.

Actually. Matilda wouldn’t mind that show. Looking over the littles in her midst, she wondered which ones she could push to get that desired outcome…

Something to ponder.

Once the meeting was excused and the staff went about their mission to clear the wing of any sweets, Tilly did the job required of her. Going through the wing greenhouse, she wasn’t surprised when she found a few pieces hiding in the workbench. Now, covered in dirt and other questionable materials.

Bringing the small bag to Rae, she tossed the candy into the bin and with a wave of her wand vanished the candy into the wind. “The greenhouse is clear, but I will keep my eyes out for more hiding. I think I know who hid that stash, so I will keep watch.”

Watching the scene unfold with the patient not wanting to give up the goods made Matilda realize just how obsessed these kids were. It was terrifying. ”Don't make her have to search you. Got any more we need to take?"

Tilly sighed and turned back towards the locker room, her shift was over and her job was done. The Greenhouse was clean, the candy had been scrubbed off the premises and she was socially exhausted with all the people. While she grabbed her leather satchel, flipping it over her shoulder, she walked out of the room and without even a goodbye, left with a skip in her step, ready for a quiet study session with Drago in the common room.

Not that she would admit to anyone that she looked forward to seeing him. Nope.

It was all rather menial work, really. That kind that carried you. And as the whole rooting out progressed, and seemed to be reaching its end, Ellen had run out of lockers to check. Not for lack of trying, but by the time she transferred to other rows, they were all spotless of any sugary contraband.

So, she took it upon herself another task. She began to clean up after her fellow assistants. That was not to say that they had made a mess or been barbaric in their searching, but lockers had been left ajar - both literally and figuratively - a tie here and there left draped over a hook instead of hung properly, a comb knocked on its side, a tin of pomade left uncapped where someone had nudged it aside to check behind. A copy of the Prophet, folded open to the election coverage, had slipped from wherever it had been wedged and now sat crumpled on the floor of one locker; she retrieved it, smoothed the creases, and placed it back where it belonged.

Small things. The kind of things you wouldn't notice unless you were looking, or well, cared to set right in the moment. But Ellen was looking, because there was nothing else to look at, and standing idle while there were other things that she could be helping with went against every instinct she possessed. Partly, anyway.

In the next locker down, a campaign poster- Laurence & Campbell, the crowned wolf staring out from the glossy paper, had been tucked behind a spare set of robes, slightly crumpled at the corner where it had been shoved aside. Huh. It wasn't really surprising, the election was one of the biggest events that was currently happening in Britain. At least it was something government-sponsored; it was safe to participate in.

Another ajar locker held a muggle fountain pen, the sort with a gold nib and a chased barrel, sat uncapped beside a stack of notes in one of the upper lockers; she capped it, because ink dried, and that was simply wasteful. A pocket watch in another, the glass face smudged with fingerprints, which she did not touch, as it wasn't hers to handle beyond ensuring it hadn't been knocked from its place.

Further down the row, A silk hair ribbon, pale blue, coiled on a shelf like something sleeping, a compact mirror, a pot of rouge - tittering dangerously on the edge, which she swiftly pushed back out of danger. And the last, a small framed photograph of a family she didn't recognize, a woman and two boys, all dark-haired, all smiling, had been tilted askew - it didn't move, non-magical, then. She straightened it.

When Ruth called them back to order, Ellen was closing the last of the lockers, a quiet, satisfying click, and she made her way to join everyone. She stood with her hands clasped in front of her, listening to the brief acknowledgment and the warning about aiding and abetting, which was unnecessary where she was concerned. She had no intention of feeding the problem. She had no candy to feed it with.

"I'll see you tonight, Ellen."

..

The specificity of it. Not "the night shift crew," not a general instruction to those on the evening's roster, but her name, spoken in front of the others as though it were a reminder rather than a schedule. As though Ellen might have forgotten. As though she needed the room to know that Ruth Elliot had assigned her this punishment and was keeping track of its serving.

"Yes, Elliot," she said, because that was the correct response, and gathered her things, and left.