Reading in the courtyard

Peter was confused, annoyed, and overall just wanted to be left alone. What was with people these days! The common room was packed with giggling girls, the Library was packed with girls, everywhere he turned there were GIRLS! And they were ALL staring at him! Like he had done something super cool, or had scored really high on a test.. whatever happened, it was annoying, so he had retreated to one place not many people would be. The Courtyard, why? Because it was pretty darn cold outside, and no one wanted to be here in this chill. It was the weekend, and he sat on a bench, shivering, and reading a textbook.

It was hard to concentrate when he couldn't feel his fingers, but he had gotten gloves and every so often he would balance his book on his lap and rub his hands together over his blue-bell flames he had in a jar. He wasn't moving much, which made it harder to stay warm, but he was at a very interesting part of a complex series in his book, and he didn't want to take the time to skip any important sections. To some people, they might have found it odd that he was staring at a book that had nothing to do with a class, or even an independent study, no, he was learning for his own goals, because he one day wished to be a teacher, and with all of these materials around, he could really do some good research while at Hogwarts, seeing as it was a great place to have access to an extensive library, and get permission to head to the Ministry whenever to find anything else he might need.

The matron had not been at all willing to release the blonde from the Hospital Wing but it had become increasingly obvious that the girl was becoming frustrated and so the matron felt it best to release her. She’d been given back a fair bit of the clothing that had been snatched on her arrival and she’d promptly tucked herself up in a pair of grey jogging bottoms and a large, mustard coloured jumper that swallowed her tiny frame. She wasn’t quite a shadow of her former self, the self prior to Felix’s harassment, but she was distant enough to allow for her roommates to start talking. She’d heard their whispers, their giggles. She didn’t have the energy to stand up for herself; she merely removed herself from the whole situation. It had been like that, that very morning. She’d emerged from the shower to find them gossiping amongst themselves, her name mentioned along with a string of others - Trent included. It was at that point that Millie decided she wouldn’t return to the tower until she had to.

And it was that decision that brought her to the entrance courtyard. With shaking hands, one bandaged, the other purple and discoloured from taking her frustration out on the boiler in the dorm, she struggled to light the cigarette held between her quaking lips. She sighed with evident exasperation and tossed the lighter away from her. It clattered against the cobbles and it was promptly followed by the packet and the loose cigarette. She drew her arms around her legs and pulled them close to her chest as her eyes began to fill with salty tears. Millie shook her head from side to side, her hair bouncing around her face, and tipped her forehead forward onto her knees. Her fingers curled around her ankles, gripping them tightly as if for fear her whole body would fall to pieces if she didn’t keep a firm hold on herself. It would have been so easy to fall apart - and she wanted to, desperately - but she knew she couldn’t. Not yet.

Peter heard a noise and jumped, his whole body tensing, but what he saw wasn't something to be afraid of, quite the contrary, he saw a girl who looked to be absolutely miserable. She looked pretty beat up as well, and it wasn't long after that that his eyes looked down and saw the cigarettes and the lighter on the ground. He slowly put his book away, stood up, and went over to the cigarettes on the ground. He picked them up, and sat down next to her. "You know... these are a commodity.. I'd hate to see them get lost to a teacher... I don't approve of them... but you look like you need one." He said gently, and used the lighter to light one for her, and handed it to her.

He didn't say anything after that, just sat next to her, the cigarette extended towards her. He looked across the courtyard, not even looking at her, just... sitting with her, letting her get used to his presence, he wasn't exactly talkative anyway, but as it was.. she looked like she needed a friend, and he knew how it felt to not want to be near his dorm mates.

The sound of footsteps teasing the crusty leaves across the cobbles did not prompt Millie to lift her head. It wasn’t until she heard a voice - a distinctly male voice - that she slowly lifted her head from her arms. She turned her head and looked at the boy that had sat down beside her having gathered her belongings that she’d thrown so childishly away in her frustration. She wiped her eyes hastily, using the bandage as a cloth before cradling her hand back against her chest. At his words she blinked and looked down at the cigarette smouldering between them. Swallowing, Millie licked her lips before leaning forward and taking the cigarette between her lips. She brought her bruised hand to it and brought it away from her lips before exhaling the smoke into the air. Millie leaned her head back against the low wall of the fountain and closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the water colliding with the surface of blue that was already languishing in the fountain basin.

Her spare hand fell to her stomach and she looked down at, half expecting the flutters her mother had talked wistfully about once before. There was nothing, though. She felt as empty as she did when she’d first woken up. Now she just had company. Millie sighed gently and turned her eyes towards the boy who had been so kind as to sit with her and help her as he’d done. “Thank you,” She whispered hollowly. “I suggest you stay away from the Forbidden Forest. You don’t strike me as one to handle Centaurs well.” Millie smirked a little and slowly shook her head before bringing the cigarette back to her lips. She hadn’t seen anything regarding him but she could tell a few things by just a glance. Centaurs wouldn’t do him any favours, she doubted. “I’m...” Millie began to introduce herself but trailed off, settling in the end for, “broken. I’m broken. Like a windup toy missing a vital cog.”

Peter glanced at her when he took the cigarette between her lips and then smiled and let his hand fall back down into his lap, staring straight ahead until she spoke. He glanced at her and then smiled. "I had no plans on going into the Forest, but thank you for the advice." He said softly, keeping his voice low and at least trying to sound comforting. She looked horrible, and miserable, and lonely, he felt sorry for her, he really did. But he didn't want her to feel like he pitied her.. he knew that was a bad move.. so he just sat in silence until she spoke. When she first spoke, he was pretty sure, she was going to say her name, but she changed it quickly, and his eyes went to her.

"You don't look that broken.. you just look a little beat up is all." He said softly, his eyes on her now, taking in her bandages, and her scars, something horrible had happened to this girl, but he wouldn't prod unless she wanted to talk about it. "I'm Peter.." he said gently, and looked away from her again, glancing down at the cigarettes he still had in his grasp, and he carefully set them on the ground between them. The smoke that was trailing from the one he had given to her was making his lungs feel a little filled, and he couldn't breath properly, just from the little bit of smoke he was inhaling as secondhand from her. He looked ahead, and then frowned and tried to think of something else comforting to say. "Peter Harrington." He said lamely, not having anything else to say.

With a long-suffering sigh mixed with both cigarette smoke and her own anguish, Millie tipped her head back against the fountain wall. She shook her head slowly, her eyes sliding shut as she brought the cigarette back to her lips. She flicked the ash away after bringing it back down and lazily let the smoke drift from her mouth, as if she were a chimney or something equally as cumbersome. She felt like a small, wooden structure waiting to be blown over by the wind. She didn’t know how she was supposed to haul herself back to her feet and make the journey back to the common room. It had been agony enough to make her way down there. It was a daunting prospect for her, to think that she had to go back up somehow. If all else failed she’d owl Trent and ask for him to come and get her. As embarrassed as she’d be, she knew the alternative would be much, much worse.

“No, broken.” She corrected gently with a sardonic laugh. “They twist your mind,” She murmured carefully. “Here,” She held out the cigarette for him, “If you’re going to breathe it in you might as well take some of it.” Millie closed her eyes and shook her head again before reopening them and staring out at the world over the side of the covered bridge. “Supposedly, I was pregnant. Supposedly, I was raped. Supposedly...I didn’t fall off of whatever I claimed I fell off of in my drug induced stupor. They’re meant t be in pieces, you know, people that go through this. They fall apart over the littlest of things. I suppose I did,” Millie pursed her lips at the cigarette and continued, “but you know what? Bollocks to it. I mean...what’s it worth? What is any of it worth?”

Millie grabbed the side of the fountain and used what little strength she had in her malnourished frame to haul herself to her feet. Then, on unsteady legs she veered towards the covered bridge where, there, she grasped the sides and hauled herself up so she could teeter on the edge, literally on the edge of life and death. Millie bit her lip, a small twisting at the sides, and peered over, her knuckles turning quite as she gripped the sides, to see what was below. It must have been at least a five hundred meter drop -- at least. She could see a trickle of a river at the bottom but little else. And the urge to jump...well it was nearly too great. She could taste it, almost. She could feel the wind whipping past her as she plummeted towards the ground. She inhaled a breath of fresh air and closed her eyes as she unconsciously began to sway forwards and backwards, from life into death and back again. If only...she had the strength to let go. Perhaps then she’d find peace. Unlikely.

Peter looked at her when she spoke again, and then frowned when she handed him the cigarette. He stared at it for a long moment, and then shook his head. It was one thing to second hand smoke, it was another to actually smoke. He attempted to hand it back to her, but she wasn't paying attention. She was speaking. Peter couldn't help but stare at her when she spoke, listening to what she said. Pregnant.. raped... she fell off something when she was.. high? Peter wasn't quite sure what was going on, but she looked like she really needed someone to listen, so he did, listening as she had her moment of speaking, and suddenly she was standing up. He stood up quickly and followed her as she went over to the bridge, and he stared at her, eyes wide when she got up on the side.

"Hey! Hey... Umm.. I don't know your name.. but... I'm sure there is something worth not jumping okay? I'm sure that everything will be okay.. you just need to release whatever it is that's bugging ya... I mean.. I erm.. I could help if you need me too.. I mean.." Peter stumbled, until she started to sway on the bridge and he automatically reached forward, hooked her around the waist, and pulled her off the edge of the bridge, holding her slight frame in his, and carrying her out of arm. He hooked her knees over one arm, and held her like a husband bringing his wife home on their wedding night. He looked down at the girl and carefully set her down again, not letting go of her waist though, in case she tried to jump again.

"I don't know you name.. but whatever happened.. you'll get through it okay? You have friends who will listen, a whole castle of friends who are there for you.. I don't know you.. or what you are like normally.. but what I see here isn't what it was I'm sure.." He said frowning at her, his arm around her waist, and he was extremely aware of how close she was, but he couldn't risk her going to the bridge and just jumping instead of swinging on the side. "There is always things worth it okay? I mean... relationships... if you have a boyfriend... or... or family... I don't want you to die.. I know that for sure..." He said and carefully moved to press her onto the ground next to the fountain, picking up the discarded cigarette, and stamping it out, before he picked up another one and held it out to her. "Talk to me.. what happened?" He asked carefully, his eyes not on her as he carefully lit the new cigarette and held it out for her.

She was considering it. She was honestly debating it. To throw herself off, to feel the rush of the wind and eventually make the ‘splat’ that all movies portrayed as the impact sound, well...it would finally bring her peace. Millie wasn’t to be allowed that though because the bumbling boy she’d found - or rather, had found her - had decided to play dashing hero and he pried her from the side of the bridge as if she were nothing more than a lightweight painting coming off of the wall. She was sure now that the majority of her weight consisted of the bandages that the matron had mummified her lower-torso in. In what felt like, and probably was, a blink of an eye, she was cradled into the arms of a boy she’d met mere minutes before as he took the steps to save her life from herself. She sighed heavily as tears filled her eyes and she gave a little huff when he set her back down on the ground. She drew her legs back up to her chest once more and rested her chin on her knees, unsure how to progress.

Suicide was clearly a failure in the making so that she’d skip on. Perhaps she’d have no choice but to live it out, wait until Trent destroyed his own person and at that point she could destroy hers. He wouldn’t though. No, he’d change his mind just to unintentionally spite her. Millie didn’t know how she could live with herself, dirtied as she was. She saw no rhyme or reason to live before but now there was little else to enjoy...little else to appreciate, want or need. There was Trent though, that little beacon of light in her life that was the darkness in his own. She adored him, admittedly, and she would have done anything for him. Yet...he wouldn’t do the same for her, would he? Or would he? She didn’t know. She had forgotten, in the midst of everything, how they truly worked with one another. She wanted nothing more to crawl back into his bed, cuddle up to him, apologise for her wrong doings and sleep away the animosity and the pain. She couldn’t, though. She didn’t think she ever could again.

“Family? Friends? What planet are you on?” Millie looked up at the boy, ‘Peter’, and scoffed. Her hands fell to her stomach and she pursed her lips, probing the thick bandage there. “You have no idea how empty I feel. There is someone....or, well, there should be. He blows hot and cold all the time. I have no idea whether he loves me or not and to be honest, I don’t think it really matters whether he does or he doesn’t. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Friends? Well, they’re wrapped up in their lives, their problems...their love affairs. And my family...well that’s a completely different story. The parents hate each other, my brother is a foul, loathsome little wretch and, well, my aunt is pregnant again I think. Might be wrong. She’s also not my aunt. So, you know, apart from those blips, everything’s peachy. I was only raped, nearly murdered and robbed of what was mine to have, mine to keep. I didn’t know but so what? I’m sure the gossip whores would love to hear that the Finnigan bitch got knocked up by someone. I have an idea, you know, but that doesn’t matter. I’m alive aren’t I? I’m in reasonable health and I have very little to live for currently. So explain to me, why you don’t want little old me to die? It’s, um...Millie by the way. Melissa, I suppose.”

Peter hated seeing girls upset, but he didn't know what to do. He sat there, holding out the cigarette that she didn't take, and he ended up staring at it, and then carefully putting it to his lips, coughing slightly as he inhaled the smoke, and then puffed it out, coughing. "Ugh.." He muttered, staring at the little stick in his hand, before he turned and watched the girl intently. She had been through a lot.. like, a lot.. and obviously didn't think there was something to live for. She was giving up, and Peter knew he had to fix it... he just.. had to, she had been... attacked, raped even... it was just wrong, so wrong, and yet.. what could he do? What could he possibly do to help this girl? Her boyfriend obviously wasn't giving her the attention she deserved, so it was up to him... but he had never had a girlfriend.. he hadn't even had his first kiss yet.. so what did he know about girls? Nothing... that's what.


He listened to her rant, and then he sat for a long moment, staring at the cigarette, before he looked at her, and forced a lopsided smile. "You're a person.." He said slowly, eyes on her. "A very beautiful person, who deserves a better life then you have... I don't... I don't know what to say to you, except to.. look around... do you want to come back as a ghost? Don't you see how unhappy they all are? I mean.. if you leave this world unhappy.. you'll come back, and you won't be able to leave.." He said gently, and reached forward, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Melissa.." He said carefully, testing her name before he smiled at her, "There is always something worth living for.. you just have to find it... set a goal, learn something new, and look for it... Concentrate on school... heal.." He said and glanced down at her stomach, which looked bulky and bandaged under her clothes.

"Look up.." He said, putting his finger under her chin and pushing her chin up so she was forced to look up at the sky. "See how beautiful it is... the sky... so open, and free... it's beautiful... and empty.. just like what you're feeling... Sometimes empty isn't that bad a thing.. sometimes you need to be empty in order to fill up again... find a hobby... write it down... learn about yourself.. and observe others.." He said gently, and let his hand fall into his lap again, and for some reason, he took another drag of the cigarette, coughing again, but not as hard as before. "There is a lot to live for... I promise you.. you just have to look for it."

There was always that slight cough that accompanied the first inhalation, the first scream of the lungs as they were suffocated by the smoke yet sated by the nicotine it provided. It prompted a smile to peek at Millie’s lips. It was endearing, that first cough and it certainly distracted Millie a little. He might’ve had a point, he may well have had a good point but that didn’t make it any better, that didn’t make it any more sufferable. His point was fair with regards to the ghosts but Millie had no intention of coming back, in ghost form or otherwise. She wasn’t going to kill herself, only to come back in a non-sentient form. No, it would make the whole charade rather pointless and, to be frank, a waste of her time. If she had to exist, she wanted to be able to feel, she wanted to be able to convey what she was feeling, not just suck it up and deal with it simply because she couldn’t.

“You’re blind.” She told him with a slight smile. “Absolutely blind as a bat. Beautiful, me? I’m a Plain Jane with a mouth that runs away when I’m not paying attention. I’m just me, Peter, and to be honest that’s not a great thing to be at times. I can’t be left alone in my head...bad things happen. I suppose there might be something to live for but I don’t want to wait for it to turn up. I want to be me again and I’m not. I look at Trent and he’s...I don’t know. My brother, Elliot, he treats me as if I’m about to fall to pieces. Maybe I am but I just...I feel as if I’m being handled, thrust from arms to arms, from person to person. I’m being given to the nearest person because whoever had me last doesn’t want to deal with me anymore. Frankly, I don’t want to deal with me. Probably why that seemed like such a good idea. Funny you’d do that. Did I look like I needed to be saved? Do I?”

Millie blinked and licked her lips before taking the cigarette from between Peter’s fingers. “Here, look, I’ll show you how to deal with the smoke.” Millie brought the cigarette to her lips and pushed herself up a little so she was eyelevel with Peter. She took the cigarette from her lips once more and kept her lips firmly shut. She then pried his lips apart and pressed hers against his. Millie opened her mouth, preventing the smoke from escaping through her nose, and blew it into his mouth. She pulled back after a moment and couldn’t quite stifle the giggle. She covered her mouth; her eyes alight with amusement, before pulling it away and reaching up to pet Peter on the head. He was sweet, not sickly sweet either...just...cute.