Plaguebringer
Touch isn't something she's ever been comfortable with. She's sat in the transfiguration courtyard watching people go about their day, her current train of thought has been brought on by a pair of students around her age stood underneath the canopy of the big tree overlooking the scenery. The side of the courtyard the brunette Hufflepuff is sat on is relatively empty due to being in the still-chilly shade of early spring which is likely why the two students by the tree feel comfortable sharing their tender affection in public...A hesitant hand brushing a stray strand of hair behind an ear, a palm cupping a flushed cheek. She averts her gaze as guilt for daring to intrude on their private moment envelops her like a heavy blanket... But it doesn't stop her from hearing the nervous laugh they share at their behaviour. 'What a lovely sound' she thinks to herself as she watches them leave and notes that their hands are interlocked. In moments like these she feels an undeniable longing to experience the same, knowing full well she never will. She wraps her scarf tighter around her neck and pulls her school robes closed to ward off the cold in the now empty courtyard.
Affection. Intimacy.
To recieve these things a person must be able to do what she can't; let themselves be seen and loved. She realizes her self-loathing bordering on self-obsession must count as a twisted form of narcissism but the thought of someone she cares about...Seeing her? Feeling the sensation of her under their hands, her body against theirs? It makes her feel sick. And yet...She wants to know the feeling of being held, the warmth of another person, the kindness of someone willing to accept someone as pathetic and useless as her. Sometimes she wonders if her decision to become an Animagus had been a result of the shameless realization that she might feel the warmth of another without guilt if she were anything but herself. Fitting then, that fate had decided to grant her the form of a pest as punishment.
'They're waiting for me to fall asleep.' she notes, the sound of many sets of legs skittering in the dark forest around her filling the otherwise calm night air. Her back was pressed against the cold trunk of an old oak tree, mud and rainwater left behind by springshowers caking her legs and boots. The display in the courtyard had weighed on her mind and the mounting frustration she felt towards herself had led her to grab a bag from her common room, rushing out into the soon-to-be dark night to gather potion ingredients. In her haste to distract herself she'd gotten careless, slippery roots sending her tumbling down an incline and straight into the territory of a startled spider family. She wasn't enough of a threat for them to attack her on sight but she knew enough about animals to recognize that they understood she'd been injured in the fall; all they had to do was keep their many eyes on her until exhaustion set in. No need to risk suffering injuries themselves.
Her left ankle is...Probably fractured? Twisted? Either way she can't support herself on it. Before darkness fell she'd tried to use the sturdy body of the tree as support, hoping she'd be allowed and able to circle around it and crawl back up the incline on all fours. That hope was shortlived. A wave of nausea and dizzines struck her as she tried to stand and the pained yelp she let out as she fell had agitated her captors judging by the shrill sounds she heard all around her. After that...She'd curled in on herself where she fell. A cramped grip around her wand, eyes darting around in a panic as daylight faded. No one would notice she was missing. Would her mother ever find out what happened to her? Oh, her poor dear mother...She covers her mouth with her free hand and presses hard to suffocate the whines that well up in her throat.
Cra-crack. Snap. Something is out there. The spiders aren't heavy enough to be the source of the ruckus. Some other manner of creature? A lost cow? Whatever it is...The spiders aren't fond of it. She watches their round bodies rush towards whatever it is and in her exhausted state she finds herself hoping it's a lone poacher. Maybe they'd eat their fill... "Incendio!" the voice is accompanied by a flash of warm light and the unmistakable stench of burning flesh and desperate screeches of pained or terrified spiders. Adrenaline gives her the push to drag herself forward, out of the shadows where she'd been hidden and towards the scene of the short battle. She doesn't stop to consider that the caster might not have her best interest at heart.
"Hw...Hweet!" her words catch in her throat, elbows digging into the mud as she drags herself close enough to be seen. New light stings her eyes as the person uses their wand to cast enough light to get a look at her down there on the forest floor. What a sight she must be...Tears rolling down her cheeks. Uniform caked in mud, crawling around like some manner of strange creature. "Are you alright?" The light dims slightly and the tall figure kneels infront of her...Oh no. She knows him. It's him. Maybe her face is too covered in mud for him to recognize her or...Maybe she just isn't someone he'd registered as part of his classes. Either way he doesn't comment, far too busy giving her a once-over to check for injuries as she look up at him in ridiculous shock. "'m norry." she mutters in response. He must've heard her because he stifles a laugh at her attempt at speech before catching himself. To her relief he doesn't pursue the conversation further, instead...Reaching towards her. With his hands. He's going to help her to her feet and her shriek catches in her throat before she can make a complete fool out of herself, easily hoisting her much smaller frame to her feet by grabbing her under her arms. He notices her injured leg in time to keep supporting her before she pummels back to the ground.
The pain of it registers as a footnote in the back of her mind because right now all she can feel is how big his hands are, how warm they are against her chilled self and...How much she wants to cry. She tells herself it's because she feels relieved at being found.
His height makes it difficult for him to support her walking back to the castle. She keeps trying to drag herself from his side towards the fence lining the road, hoping he'll leave her muddied and unpleasant self be if she shows that she can make it back by herself. After a handful of near falls she hears him sigh and knows he's grown tired of her. She wishes she'd been decent enough to thank him before he departed but knows she couldn't form the words. "Climb on." His voice is close, way too close and she might have jumped over the fence to her demise if her leg allowed her. She risks a glance in his direction and is met by the sight of him kneeling next to her, back turned and arms propped up behind him to...Oh. I'll dirty your clothes. I'm not that hurt. I'm "Nothat's—" "It's late." He interrupts her before she can voice her objections and she notes that he sounds tired. Whatever plans he had for the night are surely ruined because he found her and he's too kind to leave her. The guilt she feels at the realization spurs her on to accept his selfless gesture. "I'm sorry." She tells him in a small voice as she gathers her long skirt around her waist and climbs on. "It's alright." He reassures her as he rises to his feet, seemingly unbothered by her added weight as he resumes their trip back to Hogwarts. 'Am I heavy?' She wonders while trying to angle herself so as much of her body is out of contact with him as possible. She'd never given it any thought before but suddenly she's very, very afraid that she is. "Lean forward, you're toppling me back there." He tells her in the unbothered tone of voice one might have when commenting on the weather. She does as told, even holding on to him when instructed to because the fear of being a bother outweighs her own lingering thoughts of shame.
N
o further words are shared. This leaves her with the sound of his foosteps and the warmth seeping into her from his broad back and hands holding her up by her thighs. 'I won't ever be this close to anyone again'. The sentiment starts somewhere in her mind and rips its way through her body until hot tears sting the edges of her eyes. He's showing her kindness because he is kind, she knows as much. And yet she's desperate to memorize the feeling of him being so close to her like a common thief grabbing for something not meant for her.
What a terrible pest I am.