The State of Being Broken

Day 1: That Night

Vivianna sat on the hard, cold, stone floor of the highest tower in Hogwarts. For once, very little was going through her mind. One could say she was in shock. And she was, in a way, for Bertie Nogard was dead. Nothing else mattered to Vivianna in that moment; nothing but Bertie, her brain unable to comprehend little that wasn't his name.

Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie Bertie...

Day 2: Denial

Vivianna could not believe that she had been so stupid. She'd been a mess all day for practically no reason! Of course Bertie wasn't dead! He'd completely recovered from his illness a while back, his death made no logical sense! And Vivianna was nothing if not a friend of logic, clearly this had all been one big mistake.

The Professor could have easily gotten two of her students mixed up. After all, Bertie was fairly quiet and rarely drew attention to himself, so it wouldn't be impossible for her Bertie to have been mixed up with another quiet Ravenclaw with a B-name. But... all of the Hogwarts Professors loved Bertie. He was a great student, and none of her teachers had ever had any difficulty memorizing names. So, that was out. But there had to be an explanation, there just had to be.

Oh, she had it, that b!tch! Chelsea must've set this up! The seventh year disliked Bertie and positively loathed Vivianna; what better way to hurt her than to trick the redhead into thinking that Bertie was dead? Vivianna had no clue how Chelsea had gotten a Professor in on it, if that even had been the Professor, but this was clearly the obvious solution. After all, it wasn't like Bertie could actually be dead. That was just ridiculous.

Day 3: Distraction

Vivianna sat in the deserted Astronomy Tower, legs tucked neatly underneath her, and papers covering every inch of the floor within reaching distance. The girl was working on the logistics of three different potions at once, moving on to another as soon as she got stuck, trying with all her might to keep her mind from wandering.

She'd seen the body. Bertie's body. She'd taken one look and had known that there was no mistake. That was Bertie Nogard. It wasn't her Bertie though. Her Bertie was the boy with the twinkle in his eye, her Bertie was kind and sweet, her Bertie was a Ravenclaw who could never prevent his mind from turning everything into the plot for a story. The corpse under the sheet was none of those things. The body was still, pale, and cold. Vivianna had taken one glance and ran. That wasn't how she wanted to remember the boy who was practically her brother. No, defiantly not like that.

Hair in complete disarray and hand covered in splotches of ink, the redhead scribbled furiously on a piece of parchment. Her hand was cramping, but the teenager hardly noticed. Vivianna was mumbling to herself as she worked, "...powered hellebore, no...what if?...won't work with the moonstone...scales, it needs scales...python...but then...f*ck, scratch that." Throwing down her quill in agitation, the Slytherin ran a hand through her hair and tugged violently on the ends. "Toss me a sugar quill would you, Bertie?" Vivianna said reflexively, before freezing.

The girl's nostrils flared as her breathing became labored and eyes began to water. "No," she snapped at herself, once again tugging roughly at her hair, "get it together girl." Closing her eyes for a moment, Vivianna took a deep breath, and her eyes snapped open again with a determined glint. Grabbing a stack of papers from her left, the witch grabbed her quill and began to write even more furiously than she had been before.