3rd Year The Young Artist Finds the Golden Lining in the Gray Clouds
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You Can't Always Fix Everything on Your Own « Thread Started on Jan 4, 2008, 4:11pm »
School hadn’t been in session for very long, but it seemed that everyone was becoming swamped with class work, homework, essays, and pop quizzes—even the Third Years. The professors were even already talking about exams. Needless to say, it was no wonder that everyone was under a little stress at the time.
Ambrose was stuck writing essays on anything from the different goblin wars, the use of various potions, and translating runic phrases to fretting over arithmancy problems and wondering what creature Professor Foster would bring into class or what spell Professor Thyme might teach them next; and that didn’t even include the work for the few other classes he was in as well. He would much rather be doing his favorite pastime of sketching or drawing, and he was able to when he took a little break here and there from his work, but he knew that he had to complete his school work before he could spend any great amount of time with his sketchbook. Ambrose didn’t mind the work because he found it interesting, but he also felt that drawing was much more fun that doing work for all of his classes.
As he muddled through another translation for Ancient Runes class, Ambrose coughed. He had been nursing a sore throat for the past couple of days, and now that it was getting into the fourth or fifth day of having it, he decided that he should get it checked out by Nurse Draka, to make sure he wasn’t getting a cold or anything else. Unlike his stereotypical young male counterparts, Ambrose was in tune with his body and paid attention to the signals it was giving him, so if he had something that was lasting longer than he wanted or longer than he thought necessary—which bordered on five to seven days—he would normally seek some form of medical attention, and he found that home remedies by mother or father seemed to work the best. When he was back at school, like he was now, Ambrose couldn’t rely on his parents to take care of him because they had their own jobs to deal with, or the death of a spouse or the running of the entire school, so he had to rely on the care of the nurse.
Making his way up to the Hospital Wing, Ambrose thought many things to himself, one of which being that he didn’t know much about the Head Nurse. Granted, he didn’t know much about any of the teachers at the school, including the ones with whom his father spent more time, like the Snapes. He saw his professors eating at meals and conversing with one another, even the professors that he didn’t know. The most he saw of the teachers other than meals were the ones with whom he had classes. It wasn’t that he wanted to sit around and make friends with his professors, but it made him wonder what they did outside of teaching: if they graded papers and worked on lesson plans all day, or if they interacted amongst themselves while not in classes like he and his Housemates did.
When he reached the Hospital Wing, Ambrose made his way inside without hesitation. It wasn’t until he was inside the room that he paused. He didn’t see Nurse Draka around and wondered where she might be, but after a few tense moments, he came to the conclusion that she must have an office of her own, so he began walking toward the other side of the room. “Hello?” he called as he neared what he thought to be her office, hoping that she was available.
Re: You Can't Always Fix Everything on Your Own « Reply #1 on Jan 6, 2008, 12:41am »
It was a relatively slow day in the Hospital Wing… it was a relatively slow week… it was a relatively slow job. Jeshickah had treated four students so far, one of them her own daughter, and they two of them were very minor cases of the sniffles and a sprained ankle while the other two was a mild potions incident. At this point she was beginning to wonder what they needed a hospital wing at the school for when it would be just as effective for the House heads to administer the easy stuff like Pepper Up potions and what-not and then floo the more extreme cases into St. Mungo’s. She spent an inordinate amount of time slouched in a chair in the corner of the wing with her feet propped up on the bed and a book open in her lap and a mug of hot tea or coffee in one hand.
She’d organized, reorganized, and then re-reorganized her bookshelf, the potions closet, the student filing cabinet, and the rest of her office at least twice and was already contemplating doing it all over again. Really, Jeshickah was starting to wonder how Poppy had not been a stark-raving lunatic, foaming at the mouth and tearing her own hair out by the end of her tenure in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing. The woman had been there a while when she’d been in school so that was fifty years at least, if not longer, and Jeshickah just could not fathom all the empty time Poppy had been able to fill. Jes had been there less than a month and was already so stir-crazy she could practically scream.
Having spent so much time in an emergency ward where everything was so hectic and fast paced all the time probably wasn’t helping her current situation any. Jes had thought she was ready to slow down, be able to take a breather once in a while without someone coming into her ward seconds away from death. But the move she’d made by leaving the emergency ward and coming to Hogwarts was not slowing down… it was coming to a screeching halt. She’d gone from seeing thirty or forty critically wounded people a day to being lucky if she treated a single person. Oh, she knew all it would take is one particularly dismal day in Potions or for the Slytherin team to play someone in Quidditch for the entire wing to be brimming with students but it just hadn’t happened yet.
It also didn’t help her case that she was avoiding a certain golden eyed ex-boyfriend and Headmaster. She wouldn’t bar the door if he came down to see her but Jeshickah was being very careful not to run into him outside of the confines of her wing or without quite a bit of table between them at any of the meals she took in the Great Hall. She felt a bit like a coward but the truth of the matter was she didn’t know if she was going to be able to take any advances from him without turning into a quivering, simpering idiot and she hated nothing more than being reduced to a state of lesser brain capacity. And that just seemed to be Remus’s forte… turning her brain into mush just by looking at her. So, she was avoiding putting herself into places where she could be cornered and “sought out”.
Having finished her current medical journal, Jeshickah had gone into her office to trade out books when someone actually entered the wing and had started calling for her. She came out, setting her book down on the nearest bed and approached the boy calling out for her. Her chest tightened slightly when she actually took a look at him; he looked just like Remus. She knew Charlie was friends with the older of his sons so she’d been able to pick him out of the crowds but she hadn’t figured out who the younger two were yet… at least until this boy walked into her wing. And if he wasn’t Remus’s then he had a doppelganger out there making kids too because the resemblance to a school-age Remus nearly took her breath away.
3rd Year The Young Artist Finds the Golden Lining in the Gray Clouds
[M:0] member is offline
Joined: Feb 2007 Gender: Male Posts: 9
Re: You Can't Always Fix Everything on Your Own « Reply #2 on Jan 7, 2008, 5:26am »
As he waited for Nurse Draka to arrive, Ambrose looked around the Hospital Wing. No one else but himself was currently in the ward, and that realization made him feel increasingly smaller. It made him wonder what the Head Nurse did when she didn’t have patients to see. Did she sit in her office all day, or go for walks out on the school grounds, or run errands to pick up potions to stock the Wing’s medicine cabinet?
It also made him wonder what other students had that forced to come into the Hospital Wing when they were sick. Ambrose knew that some came in for serious injuries like getting hurt in a Quidditch match or from a spell backfiring—although the latter could be highly amusing to a certain degree—but he also knew there were less serious reasons for one to come to the Hospital Wing, like those with a paper cut on their finger or someone with a cough, cold, or sore throat.
As he continued to gaze around the room, Ambrose noticed how muted the colors were in the Hospital Wing. They were browns, grays, whites, and beiges, hardly any bright colors in sight. Ambrose then decided that if he ever built a Hospital Wing, he would use pretty pastel colors like yellows, pinks, blues, and greens. Too bad he couldn’t talk his father into having the Hospital Wing repainted, if only to get rid of the dreary and depressing color scheme. It was a long shot, but Ambrose decided to try and bring up the idea to his dad in passing sometime when they talked and see what he said about it. Ambrose didn’t really think that his father would agree with him, but the worst he could say was no.
His hand suddenly twitched at his side, fingers wiggling and itching to hold a paintbrush. Ambrose was able to successfully stop his hand and finger movements, but his mind was still rolling with possibilities of color combinations. He decided that when he was back in his cheerful, well-lit, brightly colored Common Room, he would forgo his school work for a while until he could play with his watercolors.
Ambrose didn’t have much longer to get lost in his own thoughts before Nurse Draka came out of her office and approached him. She looked familiar to the young boy, like he had seen her somewhere outside of school; but since she had just started in her position this year, Ambrose knew that couldn’t be possible, and instead chalked it up to him seeing her all the time at meals.
“Um, hi,” he started, slightly sheepish. It was fine when he hadn’t been standing in front of the Head Nurse, but now that she was before him, Ambrose felt strange telling her what was wrong with him. Clearing his throat, he gave a dry cough suddenly, before lifting his chin to expose his neck and touching his throat. “Well, I’ve had this cough and a sore throat for a little less than a week, about four or five days, so I thought I’d come get it checked out.”
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The events of this rpg are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
However repeating any events in this rpg is plagiarizing the authors that spend their time and effort on it. Please keep that in mind when you are so lazy to come up with your own plots.
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