pumped up kicks

Since when did Elliot Finnigan know how to throw such a punch, Trent did not know. And right now, he did not care. All he cared about, was the blood that was now trickling from his nose. On its own, the nose felt foreign, numb even. Trent had a sneaking suspicion that it was so just because it was broken. For someone who had, as of late, fed himself too much poisons -- what with the cigarettes, alcohol, and spliffs, he sure was afraid of blood. Just awhile ago, Trent was having the time of his life with Millie in the boys dormitory. What happened now?

Elliot had entered, went into a big fit, and threw a good one, all in a matter of minutes. Trent did not retaliate, not because he felt guilty for having done what he did with Millie, but because the blow had shocked him, and the aftermath of it made him fear for the loss of a nose. Hurriedly he had made a grab for the thin white t-shirt that he had wore earlier. However, he did not want anything touching his nose since one try of that had made him yelped in pain. Therefore, he hung the t-shirt around his neck, and ran out of the dormitory, making his way to the school's Hospital Wing in mere boxers.

For once, Trent wished that the school was much smaller. Running from the Gryffindor Tower to the first floor was undoubtedly extremely tough, with a nose that was broken, and hurt at every impact the body made in running. Trent was cupping the area around his nose, although he did not touch it. It hurt at a touch. Still, he was preventing the trickle of blood to fall all over his body. He wished, too, that people did not turn around to stare. As it is, he was not entirely dressed. Well, not at all. It was not a major concern considering his injury.

Finally, Trent rushed into the Hospital Wing. And then, he tried to compose himself. Between the punch and his arrival here, he had went berserk. Suddenly, it was as if he remembered how that was very un-manly. And so, foolishly, he slowed himself down, biting his tongue to distract himself from the pain at his nose. From feeling numb, the pain had increased tremendously, possibly because he had moved so much, and so vigorously at that. While he had intended on screaming out for Madam Morel, since she would know how to fix his nose, he held it back for fear of appearing like a wimp. Instead, he collapsed into the nearest bed, lying on his back, as if hoping that it would somehow make him feel better.

It must have been Finnigan genes that had given the twins such fantastic right hooks. Though Elliot was left handed, it still applied and so Trent when down with stars in his eyes. Millie reacted almost immediately, calling her wand from the pocket of her robes and turning it on her brother. He shot into the air by his ankle and the contents of his pockets fell out onto the floor, including his wand. Millie crossed the room and knelt down, snatching his wand up from the floor. She flicked her wand and sent him sailing across the room. She broke the spell and Elliot dropped to the floor by his bed. She sighed heavily and walked over to where he was slowly pulling himself to his feet. Millie caught one of his arms and helped him onto the bed before taking his hand into hers and looking at it. He’d managed to break the skin of his knuckles though whether that had been when he’d punched Trent or because of how tightly he’d been clenching his fists, Millie didn’t know.

“I have to go and see if he’s alright,” She said quietly, reaching over to take a pot of healing salve off of his bedside table. Millie unscrewed the lid and rubbed a little of the clear gel across his knuckles. “Sorry. You just need to calm down, Ell. I am a big girl now. It might shock you but I can look after myself. I’m not going to blow down in a gust of wind. I’m not breakable. Trent is important to me, Ell. You can’t...you can’t do that to him. Not just because he’s important to me but because he’s your friend, Elliot. You were best friends up until you walked in here. You need to apologize to him.”

“He deserved it,” Elliot muttered, his anger still having not abated. “You are not to be one of his play things Millie. I won’t allow it.”

Millie sighed and picked her robes up off of the floor. She slipped them on and looked at Elliot for a few moments before crossing her arms over her chest. “Put that on twice a day and they’ll heal within a week or so. Also, your lip is bleeding.” She remarked shortly. “I’m not taking sides here, I refuse, because you’re both as bad as each other.”

And with that, Millie swept out of the dorms, ignoring the calls Elliot made in order to bring her back. She ignored them though and stalked through the common room in her underwear and only her robes to keep the chill off. That certainly brightened the day of many of those hanging around in the common room and Millie made a point to ignore them as she hurried out through the portrait door and into the corridor. She was a sight indeed. It wasn’t often you saw a Gryffindor wearing, literally, the bare essentials to walk around Hogwarts. Millie had forgotten about her shoes and everything else. She merely focused on the fact that she needed to get to the Hospital Wing to see if Trent was alright. She knew it was there he would go. At that moment she could have bet her life on it, that was how sure she was.

Bursting through the doors of the Hospital Wing, Millie’s eyes tore from bed to bed before finally settling on Trent. She sighed and turned, pushing the doors closed behind her before crossing the room to his bedside. She leaned over him, placing one hand on his chest and the other on his shoulder, and smiled at him.

“His punches are terrific aren’t they?” She joked. “I’m sorry, love. How can I help?”

As if the Gryffindor Gang did not attract enough attention (some found them amusing for their silly antics, while others found them annoying and attention-seeking), the fact that the same people who saw Trent rush past them in nothing but a pair of boxers and a shirt around his neck, followed by one of Millie who looked like she needed more clothes on, was enough to set their tongues wagging again. In his haste, the boy had rushed out of the dormitory before he could even notice that Millie had came to his defence almost immediately. Despite the fact that she had insisted on not taking sides, at least it would have looked to Trent that she did her part in protecting him. Pity he missed it. It would have brought him further pleasure, only Millie's intention through that act would have made his heart melt a little.

Instead, Trent was on the bed, attempting to psych himself out of the pain at his nose, and containing the groans of pain within him. He swayed a little from side to side, as if the act would help. When the door was thrown open, he checked out the entrance with eyes that strained, since he did not want to move his head. Trent was expecting Madam Morel's arrival, but it was Millie instead, not that he would complain about that, although he could really use a nurse first. The girl was soon beside him, and her presence warmed him a little. He turned his head slightly to her, offering a weak smile to her attempt at a joke. It was not funny to him, of course.

"He-" Trent's answer was cut off. In rushed Madam Morel, who immediately went to his other side. And then she paused, abruptly, and looked at Trent cautiously, before eyeing Millie too. In her mind, she was confuddled. The lack of clothing on the two kids who she knew to be from Gryffindor, seeing how they were famous for a lot of trouble-making in school and landing in her Wing, made her stare, hard. "WHAT ON EARTH!" She exclaimed, after the long hesitation, as if Trent's broken nose was of lesser concern than his lack of modesty. And then, Trent just had to implore because he could not stand it anymore. Turning to the older woman, he groaned. "Nnnnnngggghhhhhh."

That should have worked, since Madam Morel merely rolled her eyes. She would not have rolled them if not for these troublemakers, and for the fact that they were not properly clothed. And then, because she had to, she touched Trent's nose to confirm what she thought had happened to it. At that, he yelped. "Broken nose," she pronounced in a bored manner, customarily doing a diagnosis. And then, she took her wand out, pointed at it, and did what Trent should have known. "Episkey," she said, before throwing a towel at him. "Now wipe that blood away, you're perfectly fine." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, annoyed that she had come for such a minor injury. "Would have thought both of you have learnt that simply spell during lessons," and then she lowered her voice, "if you even go for them at all." That must be it, she thought, the reason why the boy had ended up here just because of a broken nose. Then, shaking her head, she walked out of the Hospital Wing.

Trent watched her leave, scowling at the insult she had thrown at him. Then, he felt silly. Of course, he should have known. What was the whole dramatic run from his room to the Hospital Wing for? He felt thoroughly silly. The spliffs must certainly be speeding up the process of his stupidity. Or, he was just looking for a way to escape the sticky situation in the dormitory. Or, he probably needed some nursing, some maternal touch that was sorely lacking in his life. Obviously, with Madam Morel's prejudice against him, he got none. Still, he did not clearly know what motivated his dramatic run. Shrugging, he turned to Millie once more.

"Uhhh ..." He blinked, hard. "Hi." It was almost comical, how everything had went back to normality after the ruckus he had made. And then, Trent took the towel that was thrown to him, and wiped at his chest first, where some blood had trickled to, then his neck, his chin, and then finally the area below his nose.

Episkey was, admittedly, a spell Millie was familiar with but it wasn’t a spell she’d attempted to cast before. It frustrated her to no end when the accusation of poor attendance dripped disdainfully from the mouths of the staff members that knew of them - of any of them. She loathed it. She loathed them and their smug smirks, their arrogance and their blatant enjoyment of the fact that they knew as well as she did that they were all on the slippery slope to oblivion. The loved the satisfaction of knowing that their students were going to be failures. They adored knowing that in advance. Even a glance at their group told the story no one was willing to turn into a narrative. They were failures waiting to happen - failures in progress - all of them. They loved predicting it almost as much as Millie loved placing bets on Quidditch.

Millie breathed a sigh of relief when the nurse disappeared and she turned her eyes back to Trent. Millie pursed her lips and brought her thumb to her lips. She licked it and rubbed it across his chin where he’d missed some of the rapidly drying blood. “You’re so silly,” She told him with a fond smile. Millie took his hands and stepped back, tugging gently in a prompt for him to get up. “Come on. Come for a walk with me. Let’s get some air for that poor abused nose of yours. Oh!” Millie released one of Trent’s hands and reached into her pocket. She shook her head a few times as her hands grazed the cigarettes and the lighters that were in the pocket but finally she found her brother’s wand and she took it carefully from where she’d stowed it in her haste to leave. Millie held it out to Trent and looked imploringly at him. “I want you to give this back to him. Kiss and make up will you? Now come on. The lake is wonderful this time of night.”