(1939-11-08) Visiting the Wounded
Details for Visiting the Wounded
Summary: Melody checks in on Myrus after the Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw quidditch game.
Date: 8 November 1939
Location: Infirmary, Hogwarts

Myrus sleeps in the infirmary. It's after his medical procedures, his injury from the pitch was two broken ribs and one cracked, sprinkled with bruising all up and down his left side from the armpit and pectoral down to his hip.

But after Madame Spleen was done, it nearly looked good as new. Time needed to rest and stay in the infirmary for observation until Sunday night.

He stirs a little, barely an hour after he was healed, and groggy as sleep-cursed koala. And he just tries to open his eyes and look himself over with the bandages around his midsection.

While there were a number of students in the infirmary earlier, they've either left or at least have moved well away from where Myrus lays abed. It's only now that Melody shows up, stopping to talk to Madam Spleen and make sure she's allowed to go talk to the Ravenclaw, if he's awake. Given the go-ahead, she moves quietly to the occupied bed. She pauses at the foot, head tilted as she looks at the boy, then moves to sit in a chair near the head of the bed. "Myrus?"

Myrus is still half asleep when she stands at the foot of the bed. Bleary-eyed he follows her form as he tries to blink away the blur, then to himself without a shirt on and slightly bandaged, with pajama pants on underneath the blankets.

When she says his name, his head snaps toward her, but he visibly relaxes a second later. He realizes it's Melody, and his head falls back to the pillow and he smiles weakly, with a croaky "Hi Mel."

Melody reaches out, one hand gently pushing his hair away from his forehead, her voice just as tender as her touch. "Hallo, Myrus." Her wide smile is absent, but her teeth still peek out from parted teeth as she pauses, looking at his face for a moment. "That was some hit." She'd seen it from the stands, and her heart had pounded at the sight of him curled up on the grass of the pitch. She watched him being taken to the infirmary, a worried frown on her lips, and had followed, missing the finale of the game. She'd been waiting, despite everyone else that crowded in, or perhaps because of them, and had wanted to give enough time for Madam Spleen to do the healing thing before bothering the injured boy.

It's a tender moment, laced with the fraught emotions of a worried girl sitting bedside of the boy of her affections. At least that's how it appears in his mind.

"I'll be fine. I've had worse." Not quite a lie, but he'd had broken bones before, and this likely wouldn't be the last time.

His right hand reaches up to take hers before she can retract it from his forehead and give it a gentle squeeze. The morose smile on his face is permeated by his eyes glazing over with moisture.

Even to the point he lets go of her hand and wipes his eyes, turning his head away from her for just a second to do so, then returning to look up at her with a much happier, but still weakened, smile.

She allows her hand to be captured, and Melody returns the squeeze. The concern doesn't leave her eyes, perhaps even deepening as Myrus looks away. She scoots the chair a bit closer to the bed, so neither have to stretch their arms so far, angling it better to face him before she resettles. "Does it hurt very badly?" she asks, noting the turn of his head, worry in her soft tone. "I could call Madam Spleen over…"

He shakes his head faintly, "No, it doesn't hurt like that." Shaking his head a little more emphatically after he says that. His hand returns to holding hers, and his smile returns afterward. "It's just.. good to know someone is worried about me." More like 'I'm not used to someone worrying about me anymore, and you make me want to cry like a big baby'. But he won't admit to that.

Melody folds his hand into both of hers, cocooning it warmly in their softness. "I was worried," she says simply, confirming it had there been any little doubt. Her frown lessens, almost tipping up into the realm of a smile, brown eyes wide. "Now I'm not as worried. But I still wish you hadn't been hurt."

Myrus laughs, which turns to a cough and he has to force himself to stop coughing that all ends in a wince with a heavy exhale. But through the laughter he was able to say, "Wish for a shovel not to get dirty, or a sickle not to get spent while you're at it." Meaning, he's going to get hurt. He's a beater, after all.

The girl winces as well, patting Myrus' hand, feeling wholly useless as he goes through his coughing spell. Melody manages a half smile, saying quietly, "I can still wish." Her eyes drop, falling to their joined hands, and she straightens, her hands sliding away from his if he lets them go. "So you'll have to stay here tonight?"

Myrus wouldn't latch onto her hands, and he doesn't. "Yes you can," he agrees with her ability to still wish.

"Yes. Just tonight, sometime tomorrow I'll be released if Madame Spleen says I can go. If something is wrong, then I might be here longer. Hopefully not by Monday morning though. Can't miss class." His Ravenclaw is showing.

"Would you like me to bring you anything?" she asks, peering at him as her hands settle in her lap, folding together. It's likely he's already got housemates getting him the essentials, but Melody still wants to do whatever she might to make him feel a bit better.

Myrus' stomach growls. He hadn't eaten since before the game started, and even before that, because a full stomach at a game is not a good thing. Bludgers will hit you in the stomach more often.. just a rumor, or valid worry by superstitious players?

"Some food? But I'm not hungry right now you can stay for a while longer. Really I'll be fine." He says the last two sentences a little faster than normal. Ready for her to just stay here with him.

As soon as the request is spoken Melody looks ready to run off to fulfill it, but his last words keep her in her place. Her brows go up, though, and she digs into one of her robe pockets. Some shortbread biscuits are produced (she's a Hufflepuff, after all, and they seem to always have goodies about their persons) and offered out to him. "Some biscuits for now? And maybe I'll just sit here with you for a while then."

He starts to look worried when she's about to get up, but when she stays, he relaxes again. And her production of the biscuits makes him smile. "Sure," whether or not he was or wasn't supposed to eat too much or anything within a certain time frame he couldn't recall. So eating was probably fine. He would anyway, no matter.

"I'd like that. But don't feel obligated at any time to have to sit by my side all weekend. If you have something you want to do, go do it." A reassuring smile and a nod from him. "But for now, for a while, please do sit with me."

And of course he takes the offered biscuit and nibbles on it.

"Maybe," Melody says hesitantly, "Since you'll be in here, I could bring some of our charms work and we could study together after dinner." Or, if he's sleepy, she could just sit by him and get some studying done for herself. "I'd hate to think you were in here, lonely." She doesn't have any handy milk in her pockets, even Hufflepuffs aren't prepared for every food situation, but she leans forward to pick up a glass of water from a small table by the bedside, offering it to him as well, if he wants to wash down the biscuit.

Myrus chokes down a couple bites of biscuit, nodding to her suggestions, as all of them are possibilities, and likely happenings while he's in here. He gets crumbs all over his chest, but has not a care for that in the world right now. He accepts the water and washes the biscuit down, handing the glass back to her for the table was too far out of his reach.

And, really not long after he sets the rest of the biscuit on his chest, his eyes are falling back closed to sleep once again. But not before he can say, "Thank you for caring about me, Mel."

And Myrus then drifts off to sleep.

Melody fusses over Myrus a bit, but isn't so forward as to brush the crumbs off his chest for him. As he's falling asleep, she reaches to take the rest of the biscuit and put it aside with the water. Then, after pondering a moment, she leans forward and blows the crumbs off his chest with a puff of breath. It'll have to be good enough for now. She settles back again, letting her hand wander over to rest gently on his arm. It's not until the bell rings to signal dinner that she'll get up, leaning as he sleeps to press a kiss lightly to his forehead. And, true to her word, after dinner she'll bring along books so they can study, and little treats for them to nibble on, and camp out with him until curfew.

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