sortinghat_logs | Healing is not a science, but the intuitive art of wooing nature.

Bunny comes into the room, glancing around before heading over to Dolores.

"Dolly. Fancy meeting you here. You wouldn't happen t'have anything that calms y'down would ya?"

He raises a curious eyebrow, and on the whole doesn't seem to need something to calm him down.

"I do not know how you might expect to find me elsewhere," she chuckled, making a small gesture to indicate the room. She did work there, after all, and near tirelessly given her nature.

His question, and the raised eyebrow that followed, gained a slightly curious look. "Well, of course I do, is there something wrong, Aster?"

He spreads his hands out in the form of a lazy shrug.

"Y'never know. y'coulda been makin' house calls."

Aster runs his hands over his very short hair with an easy look.

"No more different fer this tima year. S'not for me so much as m'googies. Some of them are more anxious than they needta be."

She hesitated a moment at his dialect, but the context made it easy enough and she shook her head with a sympathetic expression.

"It is a stressful time for them all. I trust you have high hopes for your students?"

Bunny grins at her asking about his students, his chest puffing out a little.

"They get brighta every year. So really, high hopes doesn't even begin, I mean they're shoe ins f'the high marks that's f'sure... Providin' most of them can keep their cool, which is why I'm here."

"Ah-hah, I might have known that you would not want anything for yourself." She beckoned him over to where she had a few potions ready, at a strength she was happy to allow the professors to distribute.

"These should suffice, but if you have need of anything stronger, I must ask that you send the individuals in question to me."

"I'm in m'prime. Fightin' fit, gotta be to make sure I can keep an eye on m'students after all."

He followed with a proud little grin, and easily takes the offered bottles into his large hands.

"Treasure! Don't'cha worry. They're all smart enough t'come t'you if they need it. This is just t'take the edge off the ones that are a little too edgey, if y'know what I mean."

He's grin becomes more of a lopsided smile.

"I mean, y'always get some who worry too much about grades. How y'goin' in here anyway. Nothin' too stressful, yeah?"

"It is unfortunate that so much real importance is placed upon how much a fifteen year old can remember and put to parchment." They could make or break their futures in these exams, and they knew it. They were hardly allowed to forget it.

At his question she looked around, turning her hand palm-up as she shrugged. "Nothing too stressful at the moment. I do not think that anyone wishes to be hospitalised so close to the exams." Save for the number of panicking students, it was relatively quiet. "I will have some injuries to see to after the next quidditch match, I imagine."

"Just a bit. At least I'm tryin' t'make sure most of what I teach is at least going to be useful when they're out in the real world. At least I hope I am."

He lets his face shrug at the thought. Because in all honesty he had no idea how many students will go on to use even half of what he teaches in their day to day, he just knows what he uses a lot and went from there.

"Well that's good at least. And I'm lookin' forward to the next house match. s'gonna be a ripper!"

Steve comes in with some hesitation. Recently, he's been stressing his time between classes, studying, and Quidditch practice, it's made him so hyped that he can't sleep when time presents itself. He's bothered by needing to rely on medication, but just looking at him, anyone can see sleep hasn't been easy.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Maryam. Do you have a moment to spare?" he offers her a smile.

He wasn't the first student she'd seen with that tense, weary-eyed look and he likely wouldn't be the last, but as one of the students with a medical history that she needed to keep an eye on, Steve was part of a group that she tended to give more attention to than most, even if it was just a matter of the occasional check-up.

"I do, dear, how are you feeling?" The smile was returned readily - she always had time to spare for people, especially at this point in the school year.

She was always someone he liked to be around, never minded coming to the hospital wing if it meant spending a few minutes with her.

"I think stressed is a good word for it, Ma'am," he gave a chuckle. "O.W.L.s this year."

"Ah-hah, of course.. but you are an intelligent student, I'm sure you will do very well."

Despite how long it had been, she still remembered her own OWLs very well. It was almost unfair to put teenagers through this kind of stress, but she could understand the necessity of it.

"So, what can I help you with, young man?"

Steve averts his eyes away in slight embarrassment from her compliment, but after a moment he looks back at her. With how much of his life he's spent with doctors and his mom being an Healer, he's learned to express what's going wrong without edging around details. Sometimes the problem is in the details, might as well get diagnosed and treated correctly.

"Falling asleep has been difficult. I've been so hyped up from studying, classes, practice, that once I lay down I end up just being a jitterbug in bed."

Credit where credit's due, but what he described was very common amongst the students at this time of year. She nodded and beckoned for him to follow her, moving to a desk at the far end of the room. A potion was produced, which she offered to him, though she held it just out of his reach as she spoke.

"This will not make you sleep, but it should calm your nerves enough that you can. Do not overuse it, and if you begin to feel at all strange, come straight back to me." She held it out, then. "The directions are on the bottle, but if I may make a suggestion.. try to take an hour to relax before you go to bed."

He follows her, looking around as they walk. Steve listens to her carefully, nodding his understanding before taking the potion, giving the bottle a long look before giving her a smile.

"I will, ma'am. Thank you," he chuckles as he scratches his cheek self-consciously. "It'll be nice to spend less time in the common room. I've been hanging out there when I can't sleep, so I don't keep my roommates up."

"That may well be doing more harm than good," she chided gently, shaking her head. "You will not associate being in the common room with sleeping."

Though she couldn't say she didn't understand, especially at this time of year.

He flushes a little in embarrassment and nods, "Yes, ma'am, I'll be better about that."

There's a moment of hesitation, he really doesn't want to go back to studying just yet, he's enjoying being away from it, so he doesn't really want to leave just yet. Only thing he has to go back to is studying.

"Um, do," he looks unsure for a second. "Do you need any, uh, help around here?"

She'd expected him to leave at that, though in hindsight perhaps she ought to have known better. At his question, she looked up, paused, then smiled. There were already a couple of students coming in now and then to help her out, but only because she'd offered it to them, rather than the other way around.

"I was in the middle of changing the beds, if you wish so much to keep yourself away from your studies." Her nose crinkled as she smiled. She preferred changing the beds by hand - it was a soothing task and felt so much more rewarding than magic.

It doesn't even occur to Steve 90% of the time that you can change sheets with magic. He's lived so much of his life as a muggle, that it's hard to remember what all he can apply his magic to.

He looks bashful when she knows why he's asking. "Yeah, staying busy when taking breaks makes me feel less guilty about it." He looks for what bed needs changing next and goes to do that, setting his medication on the side table.

Being muggleborn is precisely the reason Dolores prefer to do things without magic, if she can, though she won't say it doesn't have its uses. She watched him and nodded in faint approval as he moved to the next bed, and she kept herself in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she spoke up again.

"Do you have plans for summer, Steve?" They must be close to the forefront of most student's minds, now that the final term was drawing to a close.

Though Steve isn't muggleborn himself, his father was a muggle and his mother saw the merits of living life as one for the start of his life, teach him to be physically proactive and not rely solely on magic. Also to respect Muggles and muggleborns as equals. So he prefers to do most chores by hand if he has the time to, though he is guilty of using it to clean his area if he's too stressed for time.

"Not really, Ma'am. Probably work again, the Kneazels should be having a litter soon, I usually get them used to people so they can be adopted out. Maybe hope to go visit America, but I'm not holding my breath on that one," he works steadily as he talks.

"Kneazels?" She looked over her shoulder at him, her interest piqued in knowing that a license was required to breed the creatures, as well as the kinds of pets they made. "I always wanted one of those as a child, but I thought it best not to bring too much magic home with me during the holidays."

So she'd kept bats instead, because that was a completely normal thing for a teenager to have as a pet.

"I do hope that you make it to America. I shall be quite envious of that."

"Yeah, my godmother raises them and half Kneazels, they took to me when I first moved in and it's been my job ever since to take care of them... Well whenever I'm there that is. I'd love to have one of my own someday," he moves on to another bed. "Did you live in a non-magic household?" He realizes he doesn't know what bloodline she's from, not that it matters a lick to him, but now he's curious.

Her comment makes him chuckle a little, "I'd invite you to come with, but that might seem inappropriate."

Edited 2013-06-08 20:41 (UTC)

"I did, my parents were both Muggles." She shot a smile over at him, for phrasing his question so politely. Though she rarely had any trouble with her blood status these days (people she interacted with professionally were either unaware, or more concerned with her being a vampire than a Muggleborn).

"I am sure I will find my own way there some day. Until then I must simply enjoy it vicariously through people who already have the means."

"My dad's a Muggle, he always thought my mum was really amazing when she did magic," he smiles at the memory. His dad was a rough man, sometimes a little frightening in anger, but he treated his mother like she was everything to him.

"I grew up in Brooklyn... uh New York," never sure if people know the difference, "so it'd be nice to get back home and explore what's changed. I like Ireland and all, but the States will always be home, so I hope you get to go see them sometime," he gives her a grin as he fluffs a pillow.

"My parents were always fascinated, but there was only so much that I could show them while I was at home. They came with me to Diagon Alley once, but I think it was a little too much for them."

She smiled fondly at the memory, moving over to the next bed and drawing the sheets off it. "I cannot imagine growing up in such a big place as New York."

He chuckles at the idea of his dad in Diagon Alley. "I think I dad would've had an aneurysm if he went there, I don't think he would quite believe that there's an unseen world. People hiding their magic yeah, but nothing like there really is."

He takes a moment to smooth out the sheets before tucking the blanket into the mattress. "I didn't get to explore it much, so I guess it never felt as big as it was."

"I hardly believed it myself when I first saw it." And she'd explored every inch of the place over the years, even Knockturn Alley, though she'd never recommend the place to a student. Some of them were well-acquainted with it regardless.

"I can say it is worth the exploration, should you ever find yourself inclined towards it." She nodded, giving a satisfied little sigh. "Though perhaps in times when it is less crowded."

He gives the pillow a fluff then goes on to the next bed. "I'll be sure to do that one day. I've always wanted to, but I don't find myself over that way very often. When would you say it's likely to be less crowded?"

"Hmm..."

With the bed she was working on finished, she leaned against the end and tapped her fingers gently against it, looking up at the ceiling in thought.

"During the summer, perhaps. Before most of the students are shopping for new supplies. It should be far less busy then."

Herbert never really goes to the hospital wing, outside of for curiosity's sake, or to ask for supplies or permission for certain things which he inevitably approaches Mamma about, since she seems more lenient. He prefers to fix himself after the inevitable beatings or hexings he gets from his classmates. So it's probably somewhat surprising to find him here now, looking extremely stiff and uncomfortable as he glances around for Dolores, fingers playing restlessly with a quill.

It wasn't uncommon for students to express preference, so she never thought twice about the ones who would rather see Gkika over herself. Herbert being one of them, it was a faint surprise to see him standing there, but still she smiled and crossed the room to greet him.

"Gkika will be here later this afternoon, if you are looking for her," she said, the idea not crossing her mind that he might actually be looking for her.

"No. I'd ... like to speak with you, if that's all right," Herbert said, not quite meeting her eyes. "Privately."

That was something of a surprise, though she did her best to keep it from showing on her face as she nodded and made a small gesture to the room at the far end of the hospital wing.

"Through here, we shouldn't be disturbed."

He followed her into the room, looking around briefly, then flicking his gaze to her as she entered the room. He didn't say anything for a long moment, then took a deep breath through his nose, and tried to speak in his most clinical, uninterested tones. "I wished to inquire whether you had any remedy for a sort of hormonal imbalance. It's interfering with my studies, or I wouldn't ask."

"That is quite a strange thing to self-diagnose..." Teenagers, by their nature, suffer from such things and she doesn't doubt him, but there was a difference between it being a medical problem, and just.. teenage hormones.

"In what manner is it interfering, if I might ask?"

"I don't see how it's strange - I know my own hormones and behaviors patterns better than anyone else," Herbert said with a little sniff. "And the fact that I can't concentrate on my studies at all without certain ... thoughts interfering, and I can't feel comfortable in my own dorm room is becoming problematic. It hasn't affected my marks yet, but I could certainly see it doing so if this keeps up."

"You are a teenager, Herbert, and I daresay that what you are feeling is entirely normal for a young man your age."

She heard that little sniff, too, and she folds her arms loosely, tapping her fingers against her elbows for a moment.

"I cannot in good conscience diagnose any kind of unnatural hormone imbalance, and I would not feel comfortable in giving you something that would interfere with your body's natural chemistry in that manner. However." She held one hand up, before he could protest. "I can give you something to aid your concentration, if that would suit you."

Herbert frowned sharply, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. A concentration aid would help, but it wouldn't really solve the problem. "That's not going to be enough. I don't see why a member of the staff is so against a student wanting not to engage in all this nonsense that everyone else seems to love getting in trouble for."

"You misunderstand." And she will thank you not to use that kind of emotional blackmail, young sir - it won't work on her, anyway. "As a medical professional, it would be unethical of me to give you something that would interfere with what is in all likelihood a completely normal development."

Dolores crossed her arms loosely over her stomach, watching him steadily. "And since what I have already offered would ease the particular symptom that you describe, I can only assume that there is something more to this, and I can tell you, young man, that it does not inspire confidence nor make me more likely to prescribe something that I feel you do not need. If you simply do not wish to get into trouble over your hormonal urges, I suggest that you exercise your self control."

"I have! It's not enough!" he burst out, looking briefly miserable before he managed to get himself under control again. "Fine, I'll just have to figure out how to make it myself."

"You will do no such thing, Herbert," she replied sharply. If she had to write a letter to his parents and inform the professors to watch him for stealing potion ingredients, she would indeed do just that.

She sighed then, rubbing her temple lightly. "I am sorry, but this is not a medical problem, and I have already offered something which would help you for the duration of your exams. If you do not wish to accept that, then there is nothing else that I can do."

The look he gave her said quite clearly, You can't stop me, though she doubtless could. But it was mostly bluster and finally he sighed, looking disgusted. "Fine. If that's all you can do. But I don't see how it'll help."

He looked away, folding his arms over his chest, muttering, "Tired of being bloody miserable."

Of course she could, but she did hope he wouldn't give her reason to need to. Her demeanour relaxed somewhat when he finally relented, but then her expression softened slightly.

"So, that is the true root of this, hm..?"

"What? I don't know what you're talking about." He stared down at his shoes, scowling.

The nurse smiled a little, clasping her hands behind her back. "I believe that you do, Herbert. Honesty may go further than you think."

"That's all very lovely and vague," Herbert snapped, though the expression on his face was more miserable than angry. "I'm not sure how talking about something it's better that I ignore is going to help."

She could see that sadness and understand that whatever anger he felt wasn't really directed at her. It was difficult to help a teenager who was so convinced that their way of thinking was correct, but yet here she was.

"Have you tried it?"

Healing is not a science, but the intuitive art of wooing nature.

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