Kenny McCormick and 7 years of train rides. (South Park in Hogwarts.)

What's wrong?

Before we start, in case that is unclear, I'm myself someone that suffers from trauma and anxiety and has been given wrong diagnoses leading to near death situations and most of the things I'm listing off in this chapter (obviously not to the effect.). And as Kenny is one of the strongest characters and the one I relate to most as a pervert, I made the decision to give him the plot line First intended for Wendy. Hope that clears something.
~Eko, the writer of this shit.
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The emotionless face is actually scarier than I thought it would be. He's not eating, drinking, nothing. He's just staring down and being quieter than normal. Which, for a fairly quiet person, is damn near mute.

"Is he okay?" Heidi asks.

I shake my head.

"No. But I don't think any of us truly understand the extend," I say.

Heidi gives me a hug.

"He looks like he got kissed by a dementor, holy fuck," Lizzy says, looking at Kenny from across the table.

"Somehow I know that this year is going to be shit," I say.

A paper flies in front of me. I slowly take it, it's just Quidditch.

"Oh fuck this shit," I whisper.

The place I play is free? Nice, awesome, I would take it if my best friend wasn't in so much shit at the moment.

"Are you going to eat at all?" Patty asks.

I shake my head, looking at Kenny. Still cold. What's wrong? Did he really need the meds?

"Hey, Ken," I say.

He turns around to me.

"Let's talk," I say.

He gets up and I get up as well, we both leave the great hall.

"How are you doing?" I ask.

He shrugs.

"Um... any panic attacks?" I ask.

He nods.

"Oh... so the meds don't work?" I ask.

He nods.

"Then don't take them. Kenny, being fucking Stone is not at all healthy for you or any of us," I say.

Kenny nods.

"True," He says.

"But why aren't you getting rid of them then?" I ask.

"I don't know. I sort of think they meant for me to get the wrong meds here," Kenny says.

He shrugs.

"What's that?" I ask.

"Side effects are a lot of things with my memory. Do you know how weird it is to carry your own time tablet in hand two months into the year?" Kenny asks.

"Wait. You don't remember where your classes are?" I ask.

"No that's forever carved into my mind and isn't leaving any time soon. I just honest to God cannot remember anything I should," Kenny says.