Here Comes Trouble

He could sense doom approaching. One more second and Mist would bend down from the tissue box and see the pair of them crammed tightly on the shelf, either that or the Ravenclaw would let out an uncontrollable weap as his hand began to throv even more. Unfortunately it appeared to be the latter, Bertie couldn't take the pain anymore. Opening his mouth Bertie screamed into... a tissue? Weasley couldn't have timed her attempt to silence tbe fourth year any better.

The next thing happened all rather suddenly. The hurried footsteps of the divinations professor drifted into the firewoeky display and the boy found himself being yanked forcefully from the hiding place. His brown eyes noticed where Casey, too, had been burnt from the firework aa scorch marks traced over her skin. A pang of guilt trembled through him. It was her own fault for playing with the fireworks but had Bertie simply let her set it off they'd both be burn-free, maybe expelled, but none the less free of injury.

Bertie didn't need telling twice. Now was the time to make a break for it. Not taking a second glance around the library Bertie scuttled after Casey allowing his feet to keep running until there was an entire floor between them and the library.

'What did you think you were doing?' Bertie gaspes, coming to a hault on the fifth floor landing, his hand clutching the stich that he'd been fighting since they stepped foot from the library. Bertie wasn't usually one to chastise, nor question someone's actions, but Little Miss Weasley could have gotten them both expelled not to mention the damage she'd caused deatroying thousands of galleons of reading material!

(Ooc: sorry to god mod them running. I'll edit if you like?)

((nope it was perfect!))

They were running and, this time, their escape was completely unhindered. Casey ran, pushing the pain aside, ignoring the fact that running on a twisted ankle was certainly going to get her in trouble later, because she was not ready to get suspended. That would not help Lily. Telling her about pranks pulled off, however… Well, Casey was just hoping she could have a story to cheer her older cousin up. Something to make her proud of her. Something to prove that Casey could have fun without Lily.

They ran and ran until Bertie stopped. Casey took the opportunity too, leaning against the stone wall of the castle, taking deep breaths as she tried to get her breathing under control. She turned, her back leaning against the wall, doubled over as her chest and stomach expanded to intake air. She rubbed her burn before clutching her head. One short laugh – they had escaped. Her head lolled backwards, resting against the wall.

Bertie brought her back to reality. She turned her head, glaring at him. Her jaw tipped open as she glared at him in defiance. Her arms crossed defensively over her chest and she straightened up. “I don’t believe that’s any of your business.” She turned on her heel, the wrong heel, and suddenly came crashing down to the ground, chin bumping on the ground. Her ankle had quit on her.

Casey had cheek that's all Bertie could say. How the Gryffindor had the guts to claim it wasn't his business he'd never know. Foe starters she had made it his business by throwing a firework at him and landing him in the middle of a crime scene. Both had been an inch away from being caught and expelled, to Bertie, he believed that she owed him an explanation. Just when he was about to point this out Casey turned arouns ans tripped on her heel.

'Im not going to pretend you didn't deserve that.' Bertie said honestly. However his tone wasn't nasty or snide, more soft and slightly apologetic.

Finally catching his breath Bertie, ignoring his stich, walked around in front of Casey, bending down slightly and looking at her ankle. It didn't look healthy that's for sure. There was a nasty bruise and it looked rather swollen. You'd think, having spent a lot of his time in St Mungos the past year Bertie would have picked up a few simple spells but he never had been one for medical care and first aid - there were books for that. Were.

'It looks nasty.' The Ravenclaw told her, tracing his lit wand over the ankle. 'Is there anyone in your house who could help fix you up? I don't think it would be safe going to the hospital wing.' If Casey was a decent liar perhaps she could invent a convincing story as to how she hurt her ankle and heas straight to a healer, but given the fact there was a burn on her wrist and a firework display in the library it wouldn't take long for the matron to put two and two together regardless of how good an actress the second year was.

The boy said something snarky, but Casey cared very little about his opinions or judgment. Right now, her attention was wholly focused on the injury on her ankle. Her ankle felt swollen, and it was throbbing and pulsating. Casey had injured herself many times, and most times she managed to pick herself up and move on - no big deal. But the way this particular twisted ankle felt was much more sinister than her typical injuries.

"And you deserve to fall down a hole," Casey muttered, turning around and sitting herself up, her legs stretched out before her. She eyed the ankle as though it were her enemy, before shooting a quick glare to the boy. An irritated sneer followed as she said, "Look, you're not in trouble so I think we're done here."

Before she knew it, though, he was examining her ankle. She reached up to rub her chin, which was definitely going to bruise. He mentioned that it looked nasty and she withdrew it, glaring at him as though it were his fault. No, she did not have anyone to help her. She shot him a look as though he had betrayed her before sitting up. She pushed herself up and shook her head. "I'm fine. Thanks."

Another step brought her to her knees.

The second year didn't take too kindly to Bertie's observation, nor did it seem that she liked the idea of somebody helping her. Wasn't her cousin Lily Potter? Bertie was sure she was a Gryffindor, could she not simply wake her up and ask for help? Lily was a seventh year, surely she'd know some basic spell for treating an injured ankle.

'What about your cousin, Lily isn't it?' He asked, forcefully keeping his voice a pleasant tone for Casey seemed a rather bit annoyed with him. He didnt see how she could be for seeing as it was her idea to blow the library up and it was her fault that it had gone wrong. 

Casey was lucky Bertie was being friendly at all, granted he wasn't a confrontational person and tried to stay clear of conflict - biting his Tongue if necessary. Had he been a fifth year Ravenclaw (that Allyson Nott appeared a little tempestuous) then Casey may have been hexed into oblivion by now, or turned into a Professor. 

He wasn't helping her. Obviously, he was upset at her for putting him in a position that could have warranted trouble, but he was just as much to blame as she was. She had not asked him to be out of bed past curfew, past library hours. It was not like she had made a plan that would probably endanger anyone else. She had set it up so only she would be at risk. His involvement was his own damn fault and she refused to feel sorry for him.

With that logic, her injury was her own fault and he needn't feel sorry for her. Well, crap.

She remained on her knees, trying to work up the strength to stand and put weight on her hurting ankle. The longer she waited, however, the more her ankle hurt and the less likely she was going to be able to put any weight on it. She drew a breath and sighed, before her helplessness was trumped by the name of the one person that brought the fire right out of her.

Her head snapped up. "Don't talk about Lily." She blinked. "I mean... she can't help. Just..." She sighed. "Can you get me to the Hufflepuff dorms? My cousin Lucy is there, and she can help me."