Hogwarts
May 21st, 1982
11:04 pm
@unmillierdevies
There were few that were left at Hogwarts, the greater population finding themselves to be healers or patients, those still returning from the Lestrange Manor to see who else they could find under the collapse, at least, this was all Hestia knew of the matter, all heard from those that only just returned, those that debated a safe house best for them away from the castle, and Hestia waited with them until they left, knowing the kitchens of Hogwarts well enough, that she remembered the tricks the House Elves would share, knowing where to find the food that would have stayed for months at a time, and it was this she shared with the others, as well as blankets ( which she couldn’t conjure very well, having to ask another to cast a transfiguration spell, as the time she tried out the spell, she more found herself creating a pillow with a tail, and times like these, there wasn’t an essay that could aid her in bringing up the grade, only her figuring out the best possible route around the issue at hand ). Being a helping hand among those that found their way to Hogwarts was something of nature, something that these people deserved, a kind thing in a war, it was a reminder that they still needed such things. Beyond this, such actions also doubled as distraction, Hestia waiting by the entrance of Hogwarts as if in waiting, asking those she recognized if they saw her father, her sisters, if they heard from them.
Part of her was waiting for the collapse, for the realization that those who saved her friends, those she knew were so close to death, some already meeting it, enough so that the focus on her parents and sisters only grew, that her father could have been among them at the Ministry.
She has been sitting long enough at the doors of Hogwarts, those that welcomed the newcomers and the only way for the others to leave, if they would arrive, she would see them, long enough for a few to ask her what she was doing there, sitting still, for her, at the least, though her hand tapped against her knee and her fingers tended to run through her hair, though it was already tangled. When one paused beside her, she asked them with a thick voice, “Would you like to sit?” She wasn’t the first to wait by the doorways.
Her gaze didn’t meet their’s, asking anyway, her fingers, always moving, now worked to brush away some dirt on her sleeve. Hestia, while she didn’t fight, she wasn’t about as clean as the others, partly due to what was left of Diagon Alley, to her actions in Hogsmeade and its evacuation and was about to wonder if one would be able to take her back, her parents would be able to find her there, she would be able to find her notes. ( If one thing was true, it was that she hated to live alone, rather, it scared her in a way, to go into a room and feel only something cold, to not know laughter down the hallway or a bit of dirt upon the floor due to all the feet it had met, to know silence was something worse than many terrors. It was to take away any future she could imagine if her family wasn’t there, her opening the front door and them to be present. )
There had been blood on his hands, but he had no idea whose was it anymore. He had washed his hands two, three times, maybe four, and even though it was all gone, he still could feel it on his palms. He remembered the last Janus meeting, they all had been fighting like always, Rabastan had been there, rolling his eyes and looking as annoying as ever. Frank had told himself that he had to be patient, that he had to accept the help and just look the other way, let Rabastan be himself and just stay out of his way. Because perhaps he had not liked him at first, questioning why a Death Eater like him with the family he had, would want to join Janus, but he came around eventually. Rabastan had been an important part of Janus, he hadn’t been a friend but he had been an ally. And it hurt, the memory of his death forever engraved on his mind.
He didn't keep many memories of Gideon; they had never been friends, just fellow Order members. But he had always been a great man, brave, strong, and all the things Frank had never been. In some way, he had looked up to the older man. He had changed after Fabian's death, they all had after the battle, and Frank could say he know much about it. He had left the Order, he had never been close to Gideon, yet his death was just a terrible thing. He was a good man, he had a family, a future, and now he was gone. It wasn't fair, and Frank didn't know how to deal with everything he was feeling, wanting to become numb so he could think logically and find a way to fix it. But he couldn't. There was no way to fix this.
And he couldn't stay there, feeling useless because he had zero healing training and people weren’t really that fond of him, so it didn't matter what he told them, it wouldn’t matter. He had heard about the safe houses, deciding that Arabella's was a neutral place where he could go and stay for a few days, if only before deciding if he should follow Marlene or just try to find a way to help her. He wasn't happy, not even close, knowing that his best friend was in such trouble.
At the moment he found himself walking out of Hogwarts, a gentle voice stopped him and she looked down at the young woman. He cared about everyone in Janus, trying to make sure they all were safe, and Hestia was just one of those he couldn't help but wanting to protect at all costs. He nodded and sat next to her. "How are you doing?" There was no obvious injury, she seemed to be in one piece, and he felt a bit better. "Is there anything you need?"
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