Hunted AIAOY 3

Chapter 17

Days blurred past.  Between quidditch practise, mounting homework, dementor lessons, and Buckbeak's quickly approaching trial, Rebecca was stretched to her limit.  It didn't help that no matter how much sleep she managed to get at night, she woke up feeling as if she'd gotten no rest.

Hermione had noted how her best mate had been tossing, how the dark circles under her eyes hadn't faded in the slightest.  Both Hermione and Ginny had found that Rebecca was murmuring in her sleep more and more, as well.

Tensions between the houses seemed to be at an all time high with the very-real possibility of Gryffindor snatching the quidditch cup realised by all.  And, with the lasted-too-long tiredness and general stress, there was eventually going to be an instance that pushed her too far.

Leaving the library after having skipped dinner to make time to study before she and Harry's extra lesson that night with Professor Lupin, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus saw an opportunity fall in front of them.

Draco had told them earlier in the week to make themselves busy instead of bugging him every minute of the day and, in their dull heads, that meant 'bully.'  The three boys left their conversation at the corner and made their way down towards the oblivious Rebecca occupied with running through everything that would need to be completed before sleep was an option.

Fred, deeply troubled with her less-and-less appearance at dinner, had packed up a meal and had just turned the corner from the stairs to the corridor to the library when the Slytherins struck.

Marcus, taking point, slammed his shoulder against hers in faux-clumsiness, sending her crashing into the stone wall next to her with nothing between her and the collision except her bag.

Fred nearly dropped the sandwich he'd so carefully selected, jerked to attention in utter surprise.  "Hey!"  He started running down the hall after the three beasts, but they turned tail and ran at being caught.  They hadn't expected anyone else to have left the Great Hall so quickly.  "Dirty bloody-Oh damn."

Rebecca heard the crunch from the knock and knew it to be the shattering of her inkwell.  The essay she'd finished early--the one she'd made herself work extra hard on in order to take an early night's sleep--was coated in ink.  Rebecca was not one to cry when things were hard, tears fixed nothing but brought more troubles to you.

But at the sight of her essay more ink than parchment, even she couldn't swallow the tears entirely.

And it sent Fred straight into crisis mode.  He moved quickly and with purpose, a hand on her arm leading her a seated position by the wall where the plate he'd brought her quickly ended up in her lap and her soiled school things in his arms.

"I only-Madame Pince will know how to fix ink spills, she has to surrounded by so much paper-I only know how to remove it all.  Just sit a moment and I'll be right back, okay?"  

Making sure the dripping things wouldn't touch any books on her counter, Fred rang the bell for Madame Pince twice.  

"What?  What is so urgent that you must-Oh!"  Madame Pince's mouth dropped.  "You're dripping in my library!"

Fred tried to explain.  "There was an accident and her inkwell, it-"

Madame Pince took her wand out and, while she did look at Fred as if she were considering using it on him instead of the pools of black ink, she tapped it to the messed things in turn.  The ink applied with purpose was left alone while that which had not, was washed away.

Rebecca, in the hall, had taken the quiet to get a hold of herself.  Such blatant, pathetic tears would never have come from her so easily a few weeks ago.  Wiping the last of the slowing tears away with her sleeve, she realised just how hungry she was at the first bite.