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She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. It felt like there was an erumpent sitting on her chest. Neppie couldn't stop her hands from shaking, and the walls of Hogwarts felt like they were closing in on her. She needed to be outside. She needed to be outside. Her hands clutched at her chest, and her eyes burned. Outside. Why wasn't she outside?
Lee didn't know what to do. What did he do? He knew what was wrong; she was panicking. Or was it anxiety? He didn't know the difference. But he'd seen his older sister go through the same thing, and it had always hurt that he couldn't help her.
It hurt that he couldn't help Neptune now.
Her breathing was coming in short, shallow breaths, and her eyes were glazed and unfocused. She had crouched against a wall away from the Great Hall— they had gotten as far as twenty feet before she started hyperventilating— and her shaking hands were halfway between her ears and her chest, like she couldn't decide which one she wanted to tear out first.
Lee's mouth set in a determined line. He knew that Neptune didn't like physical contact. She wouldn't even let her skin touch Thomas's for more than fifteen seconds. But he also knew that she was panicking, and that she wasn't going to stop any time soon. So he crouched down slowly, arms up, and wrapped his body around Neptune's.
Her breathing hitched and Lee could hear her start to sob, but he just held on tighter. He didn't let go when she started to struggle either; he knew that she hated this. Merlin and Morgan, he knew, and he hated to do this to her, but she needed to calm down. So Lee held her close and let her hit him, let her cry, let her breathing even and become deeper as the seconds ticked on. Once Lee was sure she had stopped crying, he leaned back and scooted away from her, sitting criss-cross-applesauce and trying to give her the space she needed.
Neptune's hands had stopped shaking, but she wouldn't look Lee in the eye. She hated when this happened. It always made her feel weak. Tiny. Inadequate. And to make matters worse, it had happened in front of Lee. She hadn't even known him for a week! Why couldn't she keep herself together?!
But Lee didn't seem to mind. He just sat across from her, a little to the side, and he was playing with a fake Golden Snitch that he had fished out of his robes. She watched him toss the little ball up and down, up and down, treating her meltdown as if it was nothing to be concerned over.
For some odd reason, this calmed her.
She swallowed a few lungfuls of air and pressed the backs of her hands up to her cheeks. She was fine. She would be fine. She was fine. Her breath hiccuped a few more times, but she stood on wobbling legs and looked down at Lee. "All right," she said. "All right." Both of them ignored how shaky her voice was.
