Words don't hurt anymore, but boots do (Grayson) TW: Violence

Lyra's day had been a difficult one. There was nothing fun about being a new student. Well, that wasn't true, but there was nothing fun that she'd experienced that day about being a new student. No, in truth, she'd had a horrible, awful day.

It hadn't started out bad. The day had started out great in fact. She'd gotten to the showers first, and gotten to use plenty of hot water. That morning it hadn't even been too cold, and she'd taken her broom out, racing against her watch, and racing against her record. She'd even beaten it! But that was when her day had started going downhill.

She'd stayed out too long practicing, and ended up missing breakfast! After that, she'd gone to do some potions practice, only to remember she didn't have the right book. She'd tried to borrow someone else's book, but the first several people she'd asked in passing hadn't let her borrow one, and when she finally found someone their book had been in such bad shape the only potion that was even readable was one that she already knew like the back of her hand.

So, she'd tried to find the book's owner, but didn't really know what house he was in. She'd spent the rest of the morning trying to find him to return the book to him, and hadn't been able to find him. By the time lunch came around she decided to give it back to him then. But trying to find one student in the great hall was not an easy task, and by the time the book was safely in the other boy's hand she had once more missed a meal.

So not only had she not gotten any school practice done, but she also was starving, and had missed a second meal that day. But, she was determined to make the most of the day. So, she'd headed to the library. Surely they'd have the potion book she needed.

By the time she'd located the book she needed she had started to worry about her other class books. What if her potions book wasn't the only one that she'd wrongly purchased? What if she had gotten all the wrong books, and was studying all the wrong information? She really couldn't afford to catch up in school with fake information, so by the time she was leaving the classroom she had so many books in her hands she could barely carry them, could barely see over the top of them.

She checked out, giving professor Grayson a friendly smile as he helped her check them out, hitting the very maximum amount of books she could take at a time (she had grabbed a couple books that were just for fun as well). She then went to leave the library, peering over the top of her books the best she could.

She didn't even make it to the stairs before she passed other people. Or at least, she thought she was passing them until one of them stuck out a foot, tripping her easily. She fell hard, books going flying and sliding away in all directions and causing her hands to slip from under her as she tried to catch herself, hitting her head on the floor as she turned her face away to avoid breaking her nose or something. She recovered as quickly as she could, sitting up as one hand lifting to touch her head carefully, glaring at the boy who'd tripped her, his and his friends' laughter filling the hall.

"What's wrong little puff?" The boy said with a sneer. "Feeling a bit clumsy?" The boys flanking him laughed and slapped him on the shoulders as if that was the best insult in the world.

"No actually," she back spat at him, glaring daggers as she stood, chin raising to show she wasn't afraid of him. "I'm feeling pretty annoyed right now. I mean, don't get me wrong, everyone’s entitled to act stupid once in awhile, but you really abuse the privilege." The boy didn't seem to like being insulted in return and he gave Lyra a harsh shove, causing her to slip on yet another book and crash back to the ground.

"Watch what you say girl. I was just telling the guys how I'd seen you out on that piece of shit broom you ride around. You know, there's a reason those twigs are only available in the US. It's because everything from the states is shit, including you." The mention of her home crossed a line with Lyra, and within a second she'd pulled out her wand, aiming it at the boy only a second too late. She was opening her mouth to send a particularly nasty curse his way when one of his lackey's foot connected with her side, knocking her breath away and resulting in her gripping her sides with both arms.

"Funny you should say that." She snarls, scrambling back away from the foot rearing back to give her another blow, only to realize she was surrounded. "Because speaking of shit, your ass must be pretty jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth."

The next blow caused a cry of pain to leave her, as she tried desperately to think of what to do. But there was nothing she really could do. Other than memorize the asshole's face and resort to curling up on her side, hands up to protect her face after one idiot got the bright idea to give her a good kick there, resulting in both a split lip and a bloody nose. But they would get tired of her and leave eventually, bullies always do.

Grayson smiled warmly at the new Hufflepuff as he helped her check out her books. He remembered her from his class, and he hoped she was settling in okay. She seemed a little frazzled today, but as both a professor and a librarian, he was no stranger to stressed out teens. He hoped his own calm demeanor might rub off on his students as he reassured them time and again that everything was going to be all right. Some people just needed to slow down, take a few deep breaths, and remember to look after themselves. He overheard a number of conversations between students who admitted to skipping meals and missing sleep, and though he worried for them at times, he didn't intervene. He remembered doing the same when he was in school. He just treated them gently and tried not to make things any harder for them.

As the Hufflepuff left the library, books teetering in her arms, Grayson sighed and turned back to his grading. He lifted up a sheet of parchment, peering closely at it through his reading glasses and trying to decipher the poor kid's handwriting. Sometimes he wondered what it would take to convince Andrei to start introducing computers for the students....

A loud crash sounded in the hall and Grayson jumped slightly, dropping the paper as he reflexively rose from his seat to see what had happened. He poked his head around the corner and glanced down the corridor to see a few older boys laughing as they descended the stairs, momentarily leaving his field of vision. Alarms went off in his head as he wondered what - or whom - they might be laughing at. He recognized something in the way they carried themselves. He'd seen it many times before.

He removed his glasses, stowing them safely away in his breast pocket, and quietly trailed the trio down the hall, following the sounds of a commotion. As he approached, snippets of their conversation met his ears, and his suspicions were confirmed.

He arrived at the top of the stairs, face darkening as he looked down upon the scene before him. Three Gryffindor boys, all 6th years, surrounded the younger Hufflepuff who was curled in a defensive position on the ground. Nobody seemed to have noticed his approach, too preoccupied with their senseless violence. Images of his own schoolyard tormentors rushed to his mind as something inside him snapped.

Something cold and eerily calm filled his chest, spreading like ice through his veins.

He clicked his fingers once. A protective bubble surrounded the girl on the floor, blasting outwards as the boys came in contact with it and sending them sprawling. He slowly descended the stairs, hands clasped gently behind his back, face a mask of calm fascination as his eyes lingered on each boy individually, taking note of who they were.

They quickly gathered themselves, scrambling to their feet and turning down the hall, intending to make a break for it. Grayson's hand twitched, and they stopped in their tracks, suddenly unable to move. After a quick scan, he deduced which one was the leader of the pack, and turned to face the boy, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

"Mr. Griffiths," he said lightly. "I trust you can explain what's going on here."

The boy stuttered, unable to meet Grayson's eyes as he tried to come up with an excuse. "The new girl," he started, gaze wandering past Grayson's shoulder toward the staircase. "She, uh, fell down the stairs."

Grayson nodded once, slowly, as if considering this possibility. "I see. So all of you," he shot a look toward the other two boys, still frozen where they stood, "decided that instead of helping her up, you would take the opportunity to kick her while she's down?"

Griffiths swallowed nervously. Grayson looked pointedly down at the red lining of his robes.

"How brave," he commented dryly.

Griffiths flushed a deep scarlet, rivaling his house colour, and glared angrily down at the floor.

"Anything to say for yourselves, Porter? Henderson?" He turned to address the two sidekicks. Both of them shook their heads, failing to meet his hard stare. Grayson let the silence drag on for a long moment, then when nobody broke it, he continued.

"If you were in my position, Porter, how many house points would you say this should cost you?"

Porter, the larger and beefier of the two henchmen, glanced up at Griffiths uncertainly. Clearly he wasn't used to being the one addressed. Grayson waited and watched as Griffiths and Porter attempted some sort of frustrated non-verbal communication.

"Uh...t-ten?" Porter finally hazarded a guess, attempting to play it safe. Grayson thought about it for a moment, nodding.

"Ten? Okay. Let's make it twenty. Each."

Griffiths looked up in alarm, and Grayson met his panic with cold indifference.

"And two months' detention, while we're at it," he added.

"Two months?!" Griffiths burst out, but quickly bit his tongue when he caught sight of Grayson's livid stare.

"One for attacking your classmate," he explained. "And one for taking me for an idiot."

Grayson waved his hand, releasing the boys from their positions. They exchanged outraged glances with each other as they regrouped. Henderson whispered something and Griffiths nodded, turning back toward Grayson, a little braver now that his lackeys were back by his side.

"Sir-"

Grayson cut him off.

"If you have a problem, you can take it up with your head of house. Though I wouldn't count on receiving much sympathy from him."

"I-"

Grayson took two steps forward, leaning in close, his voice dangerously soft. "I will say this once, and only once. If I ever suspect any of you of harming another student again, you will wish you had been expelled. Do you understand?"

Griffiths shut his mouth and nodded, the other two boys following suit. Griffiths only managed to hold Grayson's gaze for a few seconds before breaking eye contact and turning around, taking off down the hall. Porter and Henderson shuffled behind him, nipping at his heels.

Grayson watched them disappear around the corner, then he immediately softened, turning his attention to Lyra. He crouched down beside her, assessing her injuries with concern.

"How bad is it?" he asked, gently turning her face to get a look at the bruise forming on the side of her head.

She had resigned herself to waiting them out. Bullies always got bored at some point, and they would too. They'll eventually give in and go away. The wicked headache already forming didn't help either, probably as a result from hitting her head on the ground...

Footsteps? She could have sworn she heard footsteps but maybe she was imagining them, the boys hadn't stopped after all. Unless it was another one of their friends, coming to join in the fun. The thought was dismissed however when everything suddenly stopped.

More footsteps, these hurried as the boys attempted to run, only to be literally stopped in their tracks. It wasn't until she heard Professor Hughes' voice that she moved her hands from her face.

"The new girl. She, uh, fell down the stairs."

Lyra frowned, slowly dragging herself into a sitting position. She hadn't remembered falling down the stairs. It must have happened when they tripped her... No? No, the second time, when she'd been pushed. That's right...

She looked around, one hand lifting to the side of her head once more, wincing slightly at her own touch. She surveyed her wounds, wiping the blood from under her nose and carefully moving all her limbs and testing to make sure nothing was broken. The only possibility of a broken bone was the sharp pains in her chest, limiting her to small shallow breaths and telling her she likely had a broken rib.

Her attention turned back to the males as Professor Hughes spoke to them. They didn't seem all that scared. Nervous for sure, panicked, pissed... but she couldn't detect fear in their eyes. Something inside her spoke up, saying she wished they were afraid, that she wanted to see them cower in fright.

But that wasn't true. Was it? No, she wouldn't wish what she had felt on anyone, bully or otherwise.

She didn't notice the tears slipping down her face until after the immediate threat of the boys were gone and she felt her face crumple, a small sob escaping her as she dropped her face into her hands once more, shoulders curving in on herself as she tried to continue to take small breathes rather than the large gasps her body was craving.

She had nearly forgotten about the man until he spoke to her, causing her to jump slightly and look up quickly. She swiped at her tears quickly, as if she could stop them from falling at this point. Her first thought was to pull away as he reached out to touch her, but instead stayed as still as possible, not fighting against him as he turned her face ever so gently to study her.

"I'll be fine," she gasped in between held back sobs, wincing at the sudden intake of breath and reaching up to touch her rib, but pulling her hand away again as it only caused more pain.

She pulled away, shifting onto her knees and frowning once more as she started pulling the books scattered everywhere towards her, ignoring the pain her rib was still causing her the best she could. "Thank you... f-for your help."

As the young girl tried to convince him she was fine despite the bruise on her head, the blood tricking down her chin, the awkward way she held herself which suggested a bruised or broken rib, and the tears freely flowing down her cheeks, Grayson shook his head, gently stilling her hand as she reached for the books scattered across the floor.

"You will be fine," he repeated her words back to her. "But you aren't yet. Let's get you to the hospital wing, yeah?"

He waved his hand and the books collected themselves, forming a neat stack beside them. He rose to his feet, helping her to do the same, and assessed the extent of her injuries. Many probably weren't as visible as the ones on her face. He could tell she was having trouble breathing.

He couldn't do as much as the nurse could, but he might at least be able to help with the pain.

"May I?" he asked her, pulling his wand from his robes to perform the more delicate healing magic. He wouldn't do anything unless she let him, but he could quickly patch up her smaller injuries if she wanted him to.

The girl froze at his touch, looking up at him quickly. It wasn't that she thought he would hurt her in the slightest, but she wasn't used too just being... randomly touched. She relaxed when it appeared he'd only wanted her attention and considered his words carefully.

Now that the fear and adrenaline was starting to subside a bit, she could already feel a growing ache forming in her whole body, causing her to wince as the man helped her up. She really had no desire to go to the hospital wing, or anywhere really other than her dorm room but even still she nodded hesitantly, not saying a word until her spoke once more.

"No." She said immediately, eyeing his wand, "I'm.. I'm fine." But even she didn't believe her words. She felt.. for lack of a better word, shakey. Her entire body shook, but she also couldn't seem to string much of a thought together. Her brain felt... jumbled.

"Just... my rib." She insisted, her voice breaking, though she cleared her throat to try to cover it, looking away.