Pick Your Poison | Tom Riddle |

Chapter Twenty Six: Losing My Grip

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"We don't develop courage by being happy every day. We develop it by surviving difficult times and challenging adversity."
-- Barbara Di Angelis

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May 29, 1944

If Eleanor had learned anything from Tom Riddle, it was that she needed to face everything this world threw at her with a smug grin and the attitude that she was above it all-- or at least, she would get above it eventually. 

So that's what she did.

On the first Monday following the conclusion of the Tournament, Eleanor woke up in Ravenclaw dormitory and desperately needed Marcella's help to cover up her fatigue and make sure her uniform was spotless.
The weekend was spent with little to no food or sleep as she was isolated in the infirmary. Only her family remained and close friends were allowed in at certain times. 

They all saw the worst low Eleanor has ever hit in her lifetime.

Somehow, people can be aware they survived something that took a toll on them yet their mind was tricked into thinking their soul was still being crushed by it. 
When she bathed in the Prefect bathroom, she saw the scars of the tournament and every time she shut her eyes she relived every moment of it.

Eleanor walked down to the Great Hall with Marcella at her side, taking deep breaths and constantly being asked if she was ready to do this.

She waited until she would be the last one to enter in the Hall this morning.

But maybe if she convinced herself long enough that she was okay, it would eventually trick her mind into believing it. 

"Last chance?" Marcella sighed, giving her a hesitant look. "You don't have to finish out the semester if you need more time."

Eleanor looked into her friends concerned eyes and she looked back at the Great Hall.

A thumping in her chest became prominent as she took another deep breath. She couldn't let her worries get to her. She should expect stares and whispers, especially their thoughts that she would most likely be able to hear. 
But as a friend once said, people fear the things they don't understand.

"I'm ready. Best way to recover is to throw yourself right into it, right?" Eleanor replied, her stomach churning ever so slightly. 

Eleanor pulled her robes closer, holding her books closely to her chest, her Ravenclaw scarf feeling tighter around her neck now.

The girls walked through the door shoulder to shoulder and it took everyone a moment to believe what they were seeing. 

But Eleanor paid no mind to them and walked confidently, her face blank and tired, but nonetheless stern. She felt swallowed by nausea as their eyes burned into body and tried to remind herself, it was all a natural reaction towards her. 

Once she sat at the regular section of the table, she witnessed the incredulous looks of Julius, Cormac, and Lillian. 

"Good morning." Cormac said, furrowing his eyebrows slightly while trying to maintain an enthusiastic voice but his confusion still slipped through. 

Only the four of them knew exactly what happened to her. She was sure that there were rumors of her being a Grindelwald supporter and nonsense like that though. Again, she had to remind herself not to care. 

"Morning." Eleanor dryly replied, reaching for the toast and eggs. But then it occurred to her just how lost her appetite was. The lack of food over the weekend nearly shrunk her stomach and capacity to feel strong at all. It even made her quite moody.