13 - Vinyls

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The hospital wing was cool and sterile, the smell of detergent and starched cotton lingering in the air. Harsh light streamed in through the windows above her, and Lina groaned, rolling over to block out the sun. Trying to scratch an itch on her wrist, she found a hard, foreign object was strapped to it, blocking her from reaching the patch which irritated her so. White and hollow, her cast was covering all the way from her left hand, to halfway down her forearm. She sighed, and felt another strange pressure on her side, and upon feeling along her ribs she found more bandaging - what had happened?

Crinkling her nose in perplexity, she rolled over again, and saw a few cards propped up on the nightstand next to her. Picking one up, she saw that on the cover, the image of a niffler - her favourite animal - rolled about, with the words 'get better soon!' written above. She cracked it open and saw Poppy's loopy handwriting, and her mouth twitched into a small smile, despite her obvious confusion about whatever situation she had landed herself in this time. The Hufflepuff always found a way to make her smile.

There was a blue card with a raven's crest on the front, signed by the whole of the Ravenclaw quidditch team (and a few others), wishing her the 'best recovery possible so you can get back on the pitch and replace Everett.' The last few words had been scribbled out, and Lina grinned as it had most likely been done by Everett himself, and replaced it on the table.

Another card was crumpled and ink-stained, and inside a short note was scrawled - Leander, no doubt. And she was correct. His card was curt and not hugely detailed, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless, and placed it back on the nightstand. Natty's letter was next, bouquets of flowers decorated the cover, and inside, her print was neat and very Natty-like. Her message also made the corners of Lina's lips quirk up, heartfelt words and tiny drawings littering the page. A P.S. was included in the bottom, reading:

Sorry for Leander's card - I had to remind him about 5 times to write it :|


Lina chuckled at the last comment, almost able to hear Natty yelling at Prewett in the Gryffindor common room. She could see her tossing the card at him alongside a quill and some ink, which would eventually stain the one corner of Leander's card which wasn't creased or torn altogether, and ridiculing him for this. Shaking her head, she scanned the small table, looking for a card from one particular person. There were no more cards. She checked the floor and around the sides of her bed, even looking under the nightstand - why wouldn't he leave a card? If Leander managed to, then surely he would without Natty's nagging...

He was busy.

That was the only explanation for it.


He was busy. Not everyone has time to write a get well soon card.

Not that it takes a lot of time.



He was busy.

Lina repeated those three words over and over in her head as she laid back on her pillow, a comforting rhythm. Quickly, the question of why she was even in the hospital wing resurfaced in her brain, and she sat up in her bed, grabbing the Ravenclaw card. 


To Lina, it read.

We hope the injury from Monday's match isn't too bad, and everyone here on from Ravenclaw  wishes you the best recovery possible so you can get back on the pitch and replace Everett (this had been crossed out) and win us some more games! 

Hope you get better soon,

The Ravenclaw quidditch team (AKA the best)

It clicked. She must have injured herself on Monday - suddenly the ghost of a memory smacked her straight in the face. She remembered walking up to the pitch alone, and seeing Garreth wave at her, but very little else. Actually, she could remember seeing Garreth from a different angle... was she laying on the floor? Was he here in the hospital wing?

"Oh, Miss Clarke! You should have told me you were awake!" Nurse Blainey told her, hurrying over to Lina's bed, who mumbled an apology. "How are you feeling?" The nurse asked.

"Uh, not too awful. My ribs ache a little where the bandages are, and my wrist is itchy, but that's pretty much it."

"Surprising you only broke a few bones falling from that height," Blainey said, inspecting the bruises on Lina's ribs. "Last time that happened, they had to be rushed off to St Mungo's."

More jigsaw pieces fell into place in her mind, and Lina asked, "What happened exactly? I hardly remember anything."

The nurse looked on, pondering. "You fell off your broom during a match. It was snowing quite heavily for November, but the game hadn't been cancelled. I've had multiple people in here complaining of frozen fingers, and one for a broken noses due to being hit in the face with their own beater bat. Luckily for you, Mr Weasley brought you off the pitch and to me. Speak of the devil..."

Garreth rounded the corner, looking sleep deprived and rather cold. He wore a thick, knitted sweater with a corduroy jacket over the top, accessorised with a pair of purplish eyebags, and in his hands he held a paper bag and a stack of Lina's favourite vinyls.

It was a surprising combination, especially as Garreth frequently told Lina how inconvenient records are and how much he slept - he would never usually be caught with huge eye bags and a handful of vinyls. However, Lina knew Garreth (or at least she thought she did) and presumed that in the broom, crinkly bag was food, and she was correct. The smell of something sweet and cinnamon-y wafted out, making her stomach grumble in annoyance. 

When he saw her talking to the nurse, his jaw hung open slightly, and rushed over to the bed. "You didn't tell me she woke up! I leave for five minutes..." He exclaimed, sighing. 

"Mr Weasley has been here pretty much every minute of the day since your match ended on Monday," Nurse Blainey added.

"Wait, what day is it today?" Lina asked.

"It is Wednesday afternoon."

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