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Josephine grants herself a few precious extra minutes under the warm embrace of her bedcovers, fully aware that she has no classes to attend that day – a small but welcomed relief.
A dull ache throbs in her back, the uncomfortable reminder of the previous day's ordeal.
The shadows of bruises paint a mosaic on her skin. There is a growing realization that she can't stay in bed forever, as her injuries require the attention of the infirmary. Her dormitory companions remain blissfully asleep.
When Dorcas returned to their dorm that night, Josephine was already asleep, and she does not know of what they did. Or if they did anything to the boys.
Not that it matters.
She is willing to go through life without ever hearing those boys' names again. Muliciber's touch left her feeling contaminated, even though it was a mere graze on her waist. She had scrubbed herself so vigorously in the shower the previous night that it left painful scratches where his fingers briefly pressed into her skin.
Pushing these disturbing thoughts aside, Josephine starts preparing herself for the day. Midway through her routine, Dorcas and the others begin to stir.
Completing her preparations, she approaches Dorcas. "I need to visit the infirmary for another check-up with Madam Pomfrey. I'll see you later, okay?"
Dorcas, her concern evident in her eyes, holds her back from leaving. "Are you all right?"
The look in Dorcas's eyes irks her; she is not a wounded animal. "I'm fine, just tired," Josephine lies before leaving her dormitory and making her way to the common room. She manages to avoid the bustling hallways and pushes open the infirmary door.
Madam Pomfrey ushers her to a cot and examines her once more. "You appear to be all right. You just need to take it easy, alright?"
Josephine nods in response. She chooses not to mention her back, as it's only a few bruises. All Pomfrey advises is to be cautious and avoid activities that could worsen her condition.
Sighing, she exits the infirmary and rubs her eyes, only to find McGonagall waiting for her.
"Hello, Miss Potter. Can I speak to you in my office?"
Josephine follows McGonagall into her office and sits in the chair opposite her. The professor pushes a plate of biscuits toward her. Josephine hesitantly selects one and tears off a small piece to nibble.
"How are you doing, dear?"
"I'm okay," Josephine replies, nervously picking at her nails. The pain helps keep her focused.
"We've assigned the boys months of detention," McGonagall informs her.
"They're not being expelled, are they?" Josephine isn't sure what she had expected. Expulsion seems too much to hope for.
