| Details for You Don't Belong Here |
| Summary: | After the Sykes Gala, Madeline stops at St. Mungos to wish her housemate warm; the reception is less than warm. |
| Date: | 1939-01-05 |
| Location: | St. Mungos |
| Related: | Sykes Gala |
| Characters |
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Variel has been established at one of the temporary care beds. It had taken a little while to pry the glass from his hand, but in the end, even the deeper cuts hadn't been particularly severe. His hand treated and lightly bandaged while the magic worked it all out. In truth, the worst damage didn't seem at all to be to his hand. That would heal. The worst damage was in his eyes, behind his eyes. Where casual laughter typically wandered was a cold wall worthy of the chilliest Rashley staring at nothing while he opened, closed, opened his bandaged hand.
When Madeline heard what had happened - and had heard that /Variel/ had been there, well. Any misgivings she may have felt about the way the Weasley boy chose to manage his friendships was completely forgotten. She hastily makes a card, and with her Uncle's help, makes it to the hospital. Chocolate frogs and flowers were both available and purchased from the gift shop before the girl is ushered into the spell damage ward where Variel was resting after his encounter with the Cruciatus curse.
She makes her way into the ward - her Uncle hanging back near the door - and is directed to the correct bed by a nurse. Nerviously, worry in her gaze, she makes her way over. "Umm, Variel?" she asks. "I brought… somethings. How are you feeling?"
When Madeline heard what had happened - and had heard that /Variel/ had been there, well. Any misgivings she may have felt about the way the Weasley boy chose to manage his friendships was completely forgotten. She hastily makes a card, and with her Uncle's help, makes it to the hospital. Chocolate frogs and flowers were both available and purchased from the gift shop before the girl is ushered into the spell damage ward where Variel was resting after his encounter with the Cruciatus curse.
She makes her way into the ward - her Uncle hanging back near the door - and is directed to the correct bed by a nurse. Nerviously, worry in her gaze, she makes her way over. "Umm, Variel?" she asks. "I brought… somethings. How are you feeling?"
It isn't just Variel. There's other students in the wing, and it's inevitable that one or two know Madeline's born to muggles. Whispers start almost immediately, and spread. A chill falls over the entire ward, mostly full of pureblooded wizards who'd been hurt, nearly died, seen others perish. He keeps working his hand, staring where he had been to begin with. He doesn't even look aside. "That is-" He has to swallow and start again. His voice is raspy. Something about screaming, smoke inhalation. "… complicated. You shouldn't be here, Evans. I think you'd best go."
"I…" Madeline looks around at the looks she is getting from the other wizards. This is not going to be an easy term, is it? Her stomach knots up. "I won't stay long," she promises quietly. "I just wanted to see if you were okay, and let you know I'm really terribly sorry that- that so many people got hurt and-" and killed. She can't say it, though. Instead, she finds herself staring at her shoes. "I want you to get better soon. I mean- well. I want /everybody/ to get better soon. I wish things like this… just wouldn't happen." She still clutches her card, the flowers and the chocolate in her hands, without moving any closer than the foot of the bed.
Variel says, "But they did happen." His hand tightens, too hard. He doesn't wince. Variel sits up a touch, enough to look at Madeline. That chilly wall is up, in the back of his eyes. "You'd best be going, Evans. I think you might want to keep your head down for a while." He leans back again, staring at his hand as it opens, closes. "Go home, Evans.""
Madeline bites her lip, still staring at the floor. She opens her mouth to speak, can only manage a few ragged breaths. Why did this have to happen? Why did people have to be so /horrible/ to each other? She only looks up at Variel briefly, and then back down at the things she has in her hands. She moves close enough - slowly and cautiously - to set what she brought down across the man's legs. "Please get better soon," she manages to whisper before hurrying to her Uncle at the door, who wraps an arm around her shoulders.
Variel remains sitting still until Madeline leaves. Once she's gone, he moves the candy to the stand beside the bed, the card buried under the candy. Dealing with this is hard enough without letting her make it worse.
Perry tries to urge his niece out of the door, but she stands rooted in place. "Mads," he murmurs quietly, gently.
But the girl turns, raising tear streaked eyes. "I really am very sorry." The voice isn't terribly strong - it probably doesn't carry to the far side of the room - but enough of them would have heard it. Only then can her Uncle get her to leave.
Open. Close. Open. Close. Variel hadn't cried at the Sykes. Not when he'd seen the boy who'd saved him break down, even. And he wasn't going to cry now. Not over a mudblood, no matter how nice she was.