Hiding

Jack sat in the Room of Requirement, her arms circled around her knees and her forehead rested against her knees. She drew shallow little breaths that seemed to rack her ribs, making the rest of her body frame quake and tremble as she sniffed, her sinuses fill with cold, clear air, stinging her eyes. She usually made herself look tall, look big and menacing. But now she looked her size. Now she looked like an underdeveloped seventeen year old who was all alone and confused.

Jack was terrified. She had the tournament to wrangle, and if she needed help, who would she go to? And Quidditch? She had a team of people she had to yell at, people that would hate her for doing her job. Potter's Army- she had to worry about people who probably gave her no consideration. And what's more- she had loneliness.

She did not know why. She had thought her last year of Hogwarts would be fun and full of adventure.It was full of challenges, but not adventures. Adventures were supposed to re-inspire her life, not make it shittier. And even if she lost her friends... She was supposed to have Keith, now Elijah. Vito.

But Keith was her apprentice, they spoke of pranks and illegal drugs and no more. Elijah was a friend only by title. He had never reached out, tried to bridge the gap and act on the proposed friendship. And Vito. He may claim to care about her more than he ever thought he could care for, but it did not mean he cared enough to give her the care that she needed, that any human needed.

And she was left to deal. With all of it. If people looked at her any different for being a champion, and captain, and a leader... they kept it to themselves. They thought to themselves she was lucky and she did not deserve the honor. Well, if they thought so strongly, they could have her life. And she would take theirs.

She liked to say she hated the petty drama of teens, the hormonal discomforts that adolescence called for. But she would let it burden her if one person could share her pain. She did not want to be weak. But it would be nice to know that there was that option. With one person. Just one. But she could not. She did not get the privilege. If she wanted to be weak, she had to sneak out at midnight and go to the Room of Requirement to hug herself, because, frankly, no one else would.

Louis was tired. He wanted to practice spells undetected. He went to the Room of Requirment and saw a some sitting there holding their knees. He had noticed it was the same girl who had him hit with a bludger. "Jack?" He said out into the room. He took a sit on the floor next to her, "Are you okay?" He asked. She seemed freaked out of her mind.

Well she was in the Triwizard Tournament, captain of the Quidditch team, and she was hated by most of the team. He looked at her. "It's me Louis, whats wrong? You can tell me." Although Louis knew what was wrong. He knew she didnt care about him. So why comfort her. She would only yell at him to leave.

James Wake was patrolling. His little job was pretty dull most of the time. The pranksters had gotten better at hiding their under-handed dealings, and the students were taking to the rules pretty well. But today, the sleep-deprived Ravenclaw had found himself bored one fine night, and wandered towards the Gryffindor side of the school. But in between his internal conversations, his yawns and his meandering thoughts, he noticed a slight... disturbance in the force. James Wake figured that he would ease this uneasiness by checking the one place in the entire school where a group of students would visit to deliberately break the rules- the Room of Requirement.

Sure enough, by the time James' path had brought into full sight of the infamous corridor, the door was already present. Someone was inside. James considered how to proceed. Chances were, either this was a party this was the sanctuary of some unfortunate student. Either way, it was James' "job" to interrupt and inform the person or persons in question that it was well past curfew.

James nudged the door open to find... Jack. Oh great, just Jack. But it couldn't be. This fiery-haired young lady could not have been THE knavish sprite, Jack Dyllan. The Champion of Hogwarts, the Master of Pranks, and the penultimate Gryffindor student. She was everything every other student wanted to be. James trudged forward towards the sobbing girl, sitting upon his haunches in front of her. He leaned towards her, confirming that which he had considered only improbable- it WAS Jack Dyllan. But...
Just to be sure...
"Excuse me miss, have we met?"

((disturbance in the force XDD))

Jack heard a voice and sharply looked up, the color draining from her face, her hand immediately springing up as though to shield herself from the view of whoever who had interrupted her. If she had been mart she would have had the Marauder's Map out and would have looked to make sure she would not be interrupted. OR she would have sealed the room... but reckless and occasional ignorance went hand and hand. And she had never been one to be "prepared."

She brought her forearm and pressed it against her eyes to et any of the wetness seep into her flimsy black sweater, beginning to panic, realizing James had caught her breaking down. She let no one break down. She refused to show weakness. It never got her anyway to reveal she was not super strong, that she was not some sort of urban hero, the one who could not be broken down. She could not let him believe he had seen correctly, that he had seen her upset.

She slowly looked up, all traces of the tears gone. She knew too well how to pull on a impenetrable mask that shielded all her true emotions. She looked up at James, who was squatting and looking at her, asking if he had met her. What was he playing at? She supposed he was here to kick her while she was gone. It was not as if she did not deserve it. She sighed. "Come to tell me I'm getting a detention for being out and about past curfew?"

So... it is Jack.
James considered telling her off, but he did not have the heart (or lack there of) of Alan Wake. He instead sat back, looking carefully at Jack. He found the girl was quick to erase her tears, and seal away those feelings of hurt. He was familiar with the feeling. He had to contain his own pain back when he was young. Tears, after all, were a human's sign of weakness and surrender. Against Alan, tears meant little. It was probably more tiring to bawl one's eyes out than it was to fight the abrasive uncle he combated each and every summer.

Part of James wanted to be back in Durmstrang, where the drama was more subdued. But another part of him did not mind the annoying little chitter chatter that pervaded Hogwarts. As long as none of it was about him, of course. He doubted it could touch upon his existence, let alone his relations. He chose to remain detached from the Hogwarts social rink in general. But Jack... Jack was another story. She had no choice but to be in there, be loud and proud. He did not what experiences he had to compare to Jack's situation.

James had seen what he had seen, no amounting of acting, not even Jack's, was going to change that. He was a little bit too familiar with that empty smile. But Jack didn't want to open up... well, that was her decision. But at least he could offer...
"I'll let you off the hook, mysterious crying girl. Next time you mope around, be sure to at least bring a tissue or two. You're eyes are still watering a bit. James took special note of how effectively she was attempting to pull off the trick.

Jack stared at him, confused. First, he was letting her off. As far as she knew, James lived for the rules he was allowed to enforce. It seemed that without rules, there was no James Wake, without James Wake there was no rules. It was as if the two went hand in hand and could one could not exist without the other. And two, he was acknowledging that she had been crying. The way he said it... Was he teasing her? Or providing her an out? She could not tell.

Jack did not cry, and she did not whine about the things wrong in her life. The times she had with Vito, he had pretty much backed her into a corner for the information, or she had been looking for some herself. When she had opened up to Chase and Andrew for the final time, she had not been Jack. She had been this shell of the old her. She found it funny though. How many times had she come into classes or walked the halls, feeling and looking like now and the people who considered her a "friend" had not noticed. But James had, the one kid she had always seemed to be at odds with.

Now she had a few problems. She did not want him to think she was losing her touch, but she could not have him go blab she had been upset. Her mind began cooking up ways to get around these obstacles, but with sigh she dropped all of them and swung her arms around her knees again, gripping tight and resting her chin on them. "Thank you," she said in a quiet voice. "Could you... keep this between us? I'm just..." Old habits die hard, and it was too difficult to admit what had been bothering her for so long about... everything. She had suffered in silence for a long time, and she was not sure how to break the silence.

"Tired? Confused? Or little bit of both?" James asked, curious as to how one could possibly feel when crying at what ought to be the best moments of their life. It was not James' place to judge. It was not his position to stray this far into Jack's personal life. Frankly, he could easily use this situation to his advantage and get whatever he wanted out of her. He probably should have. But there was something about the weakened Jack Dyllan that left him off his guard. He took this chance to let his eyes quickly scan the room. This could all be a prank. James felt lousy for even considering the concept, but he knew that even a person was crying, they could still be brutal monsters.

Like... a witch...

For now, James kept up his initial train of action. He would try to understand Jack better, assuming she wasn't using this situation to her advantage.
"Besides, since when have I been one to gossip?

((Lol, L4D reference))

Jack shuddered slightly, a chill in her bones. Perhaps because she was on the threshold of speaking about things she never really disclosed or because the window in the room was open and it was midnight, after all. She pointed her wand at the window and it closed with a snap, and yet the chill remained. So it had not been the night air.

She hated admitting defeat, and that was what this felt like. But James had not made any motion to use this against her and why put off breaking down for another moment and risk someone else finding out. She rested her forehead against her knees and sighed.

"I get it. I'm supposed to be thrilled about the tournament, and about Quidditch, and whatever else I'm supposed to have going for me. I was and sometimes I am so much it is overwhelming. But.." She shook her head, gritting her teeth. "It's difficult to be happy about it. Nothing has changed. I'm not different. And I'm still the same old hermit I was before." She was avoiding the real thing that was hurting her, because to say it would be the make it official, make it true, make it known. That she was alone.

"Frankly, I do not see why one would be thrilled by being in such a tournament, or Quidditch, or anything else for that matter, if all it does is add more work and stress." James inhaled deeply as he sat back. Jack was in a cocoon-like state. If he had left as he originally intended to, Jack would probably continue staying up and crying. That was certainly not going to help her in this situation. Unlike James, Jack had a personality, a reputation, and an image to maintain. This, added along with a harsher curriculum, and James' constant interference, would just surmount Jack's emotional barriers, and would probably lead to some... cataclysmic events.

"Doing what you are told to do is not going to change who you are Jack. If being a hermit is what suits you best, then, by all means, continue being that way. But that should not give reason for you to huddle in a corner and... cry," James let the term roll over his tongue as its bitter aftertaste left his mouth. "I know some people enjoy being alone. But no human being enjoys solitude."

Jack shook her head, sighing. His words were bringing a sense of self back into her, reminding her of just how un-Jack-like this damn crying business was. She hated it. she wiped her hands with the back of her hand and took a shuddery breath to draw up her resolve. "The thing is, I never had a problem being a hermit until I realized I couldn't do it all alone. And that's when I didn't need anyone, and I had people. Now that I know I need somebody, I don't have anyone."

She shook her head and then laughed, thinking about her tears. How many times had she been close to death, how many times had Vito driven her to what she thought was the worst point... And it seemed the thing that would push her over the edge was some alone times with her own personal demons. The demons of the world had nothing on her. It was her own conscious that would be soonest and quickest to break her up, to beat her down.

She nodded at his words and looked up. "That's it. I've always been alone, because let's face it. That's just how I operate. But I've never been secluded. I've always had at least someone to draw some strength on." She licked her lips, knowing they would chap otherwise. She shook her head. "I'm a moron. I'm ridiculous. I can't believe I'm being such a baby." She wiped her eyes harder, hoping her palms could push back the tears that had been seventeen years in the making, that had been just beyond her for the past six months. "I guess I just never really needed someone until now."