❝ talk to him, strike up a conversation like i do ❞
❝ i can't, jackie! i know nothing about quidditch ❞
❝ well here in lies the problem, dria ❞
━━━━ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐒 | dria lockaby had all the booksmarts i...
booksmarts and broomsticks act ii , take a breath chapter twenty-three , a flask of firewhisky
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➖PENNY CLEARWATER➖ december 1992
FOR SOMEONE WHO didn't particularly take well to change, it was almost ironic how much Dria loved the transition between autumn and winter, and how evident the change could be seen from the windows of Gryffindor Tower — which, coincidentally, was where she'd had been cooped up for the last five days with a seasonal cold.
As the end of November breached into early December, a heavy snowfall fell upon the castle grounds. The trees that were once littered with leaves of amber and red, now stood with their branches bare and coated in snow. A frost had coated the entirety of the expansive grounds, transforming it into a winter wonderland. However, while Dria loved to spectate the change — and was fortunate to do it from her bed over the course of five days, despite the runny nose — she was less than happy with the reminder it came with. Unlike most students at Hogwarts, who were thrilled by the thought of returning home for the holidays, Dria found herself plagued by the idea, ever since her mother had written a letter to her, in which she expressed extreme desire for her three children to spend the holidays with her.
Dria thought that perhaps she would have been more at peace with the situation had she been able to take her mind of it. But, ever since Madam Pomfrey had detected the slightest of sniffles from her one Monday morning — even after a double dose of self-administered Pepper-Up Potion — Dria had been barred from Hospital Wing ("If you so much as set foot back in here before you stop sneezing, I'll have you scrubbing bedpans for a week!") and virtually any other activity, with the exception of staying tucked up in bed with Figaro at her feet, and her nose stuck in one of Jackie's Muggle books.
She fully understood why Madam Pomfrey was so insistent upon her isolation; it would be a travesty if a bug started spreading and the Hospital Wing was overrun before the Christmas holidays — especially as the strain of cold, that Dria had caught, seemed to be a rather nasty one that a simple Pepper-Up Potion could do no more than slightly numb the symptoms. But the girl couldn't deny the frustration ruining through her veins after having missed out on so much in the course of five days.
