𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐏A𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄, jp

Timetables.

Izzy stepped into McGonagall's office, her shoulders hunched beneath her robes, her face pale and drawn. McGonagall sat behind her desk, her hands folded, her expression unreadable.

"Take a seat, Miss Lupin," she said evenly, gesturing to the chair opposite her. "I presume you know why you're here."

Izzy nodded, not meeting her eyes. "Yeah."

McGonagall pulled a piece of parchment from the folder in front of her and laid it on the desk between them. "You'll be meeting with the healer every Friday evening at six o'clock. Madam Thorne. Her office is at the back of the hospital wing, behind the blue curtain. She's trained in magical mental health support and adolescent care."

Izzy shifted in her seat, discomfort flickering across her face. "Is this really necessary?" she asked, her voice quiet.

"Yes," McGonagall said without hesitation. "Isabella, your grades for Transfigurations and Potions are quite frankly, awful. I know you've been trying, I've seen it with my own eyes, but there's clearly a lot going on with you. Before Christmas I was extremely worried, even when you were present, you barely spoke. I think help is needed."

"I didn't mean to fall behind," Izzy murmured, twisting her fingers in her lap. "I just... everything feels too loud and too fast. I can't think. There was so much to catch up on."

McGonagall's gaze softened slightly. "Which is exactly why we are intervening now. This isn't punishment, Miss Lupin. It's support."

She reached for another parchment. "I've also arranged for tutoring. Evan Rosier has agreed to assist you in Transfiguration and Potions — two evenings a week, Tuesdays and Sundays. First session begins tomorrow."

Izzy blinked. "Evan Rosier?" She hadn't expected that. He was quiet, reserved, and sharp as a blade— hardly someone she imagined agreeing to help to anyone, especially her. She'd never spoken to him, truthfully. She never really noticed him either, he was just a Slytherin who was in her year group.

"He's a very smart young man," McGonagall said. "He takes his studies seriously, and he understands what it's like to need help, even if he doesn't say it aloud."

Izzy didn't respond. Her throat felt tight.

McGonagall studied her for a moment longer, then spoke again, her voice quieter now, but no less steady.

"There's something else we need to address."

Izzy tensed.

"Your parents have asked that I monitor your eating as well," she explained. 

"I eat," Izzy said looking away and towards a painting on the wall. "Sometimes I'm just too busy or it doesn't cross my mind."

"Your mother explained it quite different to that. She believes it is quite serious, an eating disorder of sorts. Now the healer will be more help then I will, but this is serious and I will be treating it seriously."

Izzy's breath caught. The word sounded foreign and terrible coming from McGonagall's mouth, as if it didn't belong in a place like Hogwarts. As if it didn't belong to her.

"We'll be monitoring how often you eat," McGonagall continued. "Staff will be keeping an eye on you during meal times, and Madam Thorne will be informed of any irregularities. You may not feel like it, but your body needs care, whether your mind is ready for it or not."

"I don't want everyone watching me eat," Izzy said, her eyes on the desk now, her face burning red with embarrassment. She didn't want any of this.

"They won't hover. But they will notice," McGonagall said firmly. "This isn't to embarrass you. It's to protect you."

Izzy sat in silence, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. There was a flicker of something in her chest, fear, maybe. Or shame. Maybe relief.