[O][X] Separate the flesh from soul

[Luca Lovell]

[ooc; I know it says 'open', but 'preferably for someone who cares about Luca' won't fit in the title xDD So, yeah. With that said, this thread is preferably for someone who cares about Luca. Thanks!]

bic;

What's it like to die alone?
How does it feel when tears freeze, when you cry?
The blood in your veins is twenty below.

He had been avoiding this place like the plague for the past forever. Even walking by it made Luca's stomach churn with disgust, and his pace would quicken to the point where he was almost running away from the bathroom. Some people had stared at him like he was crazy... In fact, everyone had been looking at him funny.

Luca had been staring at the door to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom for an hour. He had sat across the hall, his back on the wall, and his brown eyes locked in a staring confrontation with, as it seemed to others, the door. But Luca had been sitting there, putting off what he knew he had to do. And what better than the place where it all started? Things should end where they started, shouldn't they?

So Luca had picked up his ragged body and walked across the deserted corridor. People had long past come down the corridor to get to the Great Hall. Luca had been sitting outside the door for an hour, and dinner had just now started. People wouldn't be coming down this hall unless they were skipping dinner, or were unusually quick with eating. He knew he was alone, and that's what he wanted. He wouldn't care if Myrtle was in there, trying to speak to him. No one could stop him now.

The doorknob felt warm in his hands... Everything seemed to feel warmer than his hands lately. The windows, frosted with ice; doorknobs, quills, paper... Unusual things felt warm to him. Cold things felt warm.

His footsteps echoed as they touched the tiles softly. Everything echoed in Luca's mind now, even the smallest of sounds. Everything seemed to be screaming at him, and he couldn't help but cringe most of the time. Now, however, he didn't care. He had a purpose. He crossed the room to the sinks, and looked in the mirror, something he had been avoiding for a while.

The man that stared back at him was not one he remembered. The face was pale and void of any emotion. It was a face that everyone was used to seeing lit up, almost comically. Now it was dead and quiet, blank and down. There were dark purple bruises under the eye sockets, clear evidence of many nights without sleep. His face was sunken in, more evidence of the fact that he had not been able to set foot into the Great Hall since it happened. His whole body, which was all ready very thin, had lost so much. His joints seemed to be sticking out at awkward angles, making sitting or laying on anything uncomfortable. But that was how he liked it.

Luca did not want to be comfortable. He felt he deserved a life of uncomfort. He believed that this disgusting man didn't deserve anything good anymore. Favorite food? Forget about it. Flirting with pretty girls? Monsters can't be trusted with women.

His pale hands tightened around the edges of the sink, the knuckles turning white. His face was set in a grim line, and then it turned into a grimace. He saw the monster in the mirror, and it disgusted him so much. Luca let go of the sink and curled his hand into a fist, connecting it with the glass of the mirror. It shattered, and there was blood. The pain in Luca's hand would not register with his mind. He couldn't feel the bits of reflective glass embedded in his knuckles. He couldn't feel anything but hate for what he was.

He turned away from the mirror, reminding himself of his purpose. He had thought about how to do it a lot. Did he want it fast and painless? No, that wouldn't work. He was a monster, after all. He didn't deserve it to be over so fast. So he settled with slow and painful. Even though the pain wasn't registering now, he knew it would when he began the end.

"This is the beginning of the end," Luca murmured as the thought went through his head.

And he knew it truly was. There were so many things that were to happen after he started it all. Someone would obviously find him after it all, even if it was Myrtle, and then they'd have to find out what to do with his body... Maybe they'd locate his mother's grave and bury him next to her... But Luca didn't want that. His mother would be disgusted with him. So he had scribbled a note and shoved it in his pockets, telling whoever it was that found the note not to bury him near his mother.

Mother... what will she think of me? Luca thought painfully. But he instantly stopped himself. If he guilted himself into staying alive, he knew that no one would be happy. Hadyn would have to live with him everyday... and he would have to live with what he did to her. And he couldn't live with that. No way in hell.

He slid the knife out of his pocket. He knew it'd be painful as hell to bleed to death. All he'd have to do was slice himself open in various spots, and then watch the red flood the floor and feel it burn. And Luca knew it would burn. He'd gotten his fair share of nasty cuts over his life, and he knew how bad they'd burn, especially if left untreated. And these wouldn't be small or medium cuts. They'd be nice and big...

Without thinking, he plunged the knife into his stomach and ran the blade across it. A low moan escaped his lips, but he kept at it. It burned... it burned so bad. But he wouldn't stop. He took it out and brought it to his arm and ran it down from his elbow to his wrist, biting back another sound of pain.

When he took the knife in his other hand, his vision began to burn around the corners. He felt himself leaning back toward the sink, but he continued to bring the knife to his skin, the lines no longer straight, but deep and ragged. He continued to cut until he felt himself sinking to the floor, and stabbed the knife back into the rip in his jeans where he had recently stabbed himself in the thigh. He wanted to leave the knife there... to let it burn.

Let it burn.

Sitting in this room playing Russian roulette,
Finger on the trigger to my dear Juliet,
Out from the window see her back drop silhouette,
This blood on my hands is something I cannot forget

I can't take this anymore.

[Drew Longhorn]

"Hey, have you seen Fred? I need to talk to him about something. No, I would talk to Luca but he's missing too. Nah, can't talk to Luce about this. It's a guy thing. Thanks anyway, Leena." Drew's voice outside the door was soft and melancholy. All of his friends had seemed to have abandoned him today and he didn't understand what he did to make them mad. If he had done anything. But, then of course they were his friends and put up with him more than other people did. For that he was grateful. Without his friends he was nothing really.

"You sure you saw Fred go in here earlier?" his voice was now skeptical as Leena nodded and ran off. With a sigh, Drew rested his hand on the knob for a moment, debating whether he should enter or not. Did he really want to ask Fred, who hasn't had a date in years, how to ask out Molly? If Fred was even in there. Wouldn't hurt to look though....

Slowly, he turned the knob to the bathroom, looking both ways before he started in. The last thing he'd want is for someone to see him go into a girl's bathroom looking for Fred. He knew how rumors started. Which was why he grimaced when he remembered that Leena was one of the biggest blabber mouths in the country. That was just great. She was probably standing around the corner listening for him to say "Oh, Fred, daaarling" or something to that nature.

He shuddered just thinking about it. There was no way that Drew Longhorn or Fred Weasley for that matter was gay. It was impossible and Drew couldn't see why anyone would think that.

Too bored with their own damn lives he thought bitterly. He had been having a lot of bitter thoughts lately. He'd gotten a letter from his dad begging forgiveness. Ha! Like that was going to happen. His father didn't deserve his forgiveness.

He stepped into the room with a sigh. "Fred, you in here?"

A small sound, barely audible, sounded around the sinks and then a blood curdling scream. Automatically he launched himself into a run around them until he stopped. Frozen in place as if he was suddenly made from ice. "Luca! No! Stop"

With horrified eyes, Drew watched as Luca plunged the knife into himself repeatedly, not able to move. His lunch entered his throat as he watched his best friend start to bleed out in front of him and Drew had to double over and vomit before continuing to stare.

Several things entered his mind suddenly. What was going on? Why was Luca doing this? Help!

His legs carried him over quickly, like they had a life of their own. Then his wobbling knees finally gave out and he fell down beside his friend. "Luca!? Oh god! Oh god! SOMEBODY HELP!"

He had to stop the bleeding somehow. Living with a nurse for a mother taught him that much. But there was so many places! The one on his arm first. Drew could feel himself gag again and had to turn the side and fall to his hands to release some more of his meal.

Without further delay he wrestled his wand out with quick, panicked movements. But now what? He couldn't remember the spell. Oh shit! Drew said gripping his head. What was it? Fe-! Why didn't you pay attention you miserable oaf?!Think! Think!

[/i]

"Ferula" It came to him like a smack to his panic stricken face. He screamed it out repeatedly watching as the bandages fell around his feet. Throwing his wand aside he set himself to his work constantly repeating "C'mon, Luca, stay with me! then screaming " Help! " over his shoulder.

He cursed himself for tearing up, but he couldn't really help it. This was his best friend. He couldn't lose him. Especially not like this. "C'mon, Luke. Don't die on me. Help!" [/blockquote][/size][/blockquote]

[Luca Lovell]

Luca's vision was going red with every second he laid bleeding on the floor. He was biting his teeth into his bottom lip, fighting back the groans and moans from the immense amount of pain inside of him, but only doing this made more pain come. He could taste copper in his mouth, a clear sign that he had bitten through the skin of his lip, and he felt the burn there as well. Everything burned... And he could feel it.

This is what you wanted, he told himself, squeezing his eyes shut and letting out a huge gush of air through his nose. Monster. You deserve it. Feel it burn.

But part of him was screaming in protest. Though he tried to keep the sounds in, one escaped. One half of his body was fighting against the other. Part of him knew that he shouldn't be going through this pain, but the other part... The part that was so convinced that he was a terrible, terrible monster, was so much stronger than the other protesting side. He wouldn't give in to the weakness and the crying. He fought back the wetness in his eyes, and opened them with a gasp as a surge of fire ran from his feet to his head. And then he heard someone.

"Luca! No! Stop!"

The voice was distant and buzzing, but Luca recognized it all the same, even if he couldn't exactly put a face to it. He had heard the voice more than once in his years at the school, but it was so hard to concentrate on that when there was so much going on inside of him. It was just a silly little noise, maybe one he even imagined to prevent himself from focusing on the pain. Luca quickly convinced himself that his imagination had created it, and banished away the thought of someone in the same room. If he focused on something else, the pain would dull, and that was not what he wanted.

"Luca!? Oh god! Oh god! SOMEBODY HELP!"

A face loomed into view, and Luca instantly knew that the voice he thought he had imagined really was true. It was Drew, and Luca couldn't help the surge of anger that rushed through him. Why did Drew have to show up now? Why couldn't he have showed up later, after it was done and over, so Luca couldn't stand a chance? He had just bloody finished cutting himself! All that was left was the draining of the blood, and Drew was all ready trying to stop that with bandages.

"What are you doing?" Luca said through clenched teeth, whether it be from pain or anger at Drew. "Why are you in here?"

He struggled to move himself away from the person who was trying to save him. Luca had always liked Drew, and, though he found him mildly annoying, he had looked at him as a sort of younger brother. And younger brothers were supposed to be mildly annoying. Right now, however, Luca wanted Drew out. Drew was innocent and didn't need to see this, and he was ruining Luca's plan.

"Stop your yelling!" Luca gasped. "Jesus, get out, Drew!" His voice was quiet and rasping as he said this, and he punctuated it all with a weak movement of lifting his arm and pointing at the door. "Out!" He muttered weakly.

[Drew Longhorn]

"What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to help you!" he shouted back. Following, Luca as he tried to squirm away and starting for his leg. He could tell Luca was angry with him, but he wasn't going to allow that. Anger surged through Drew now that his panic was numbed. He gave a glare.

Meanwhile, Myrtle was hovering above them, blabbering endlessly. This got on Drew's nerves. She could be doing something productive like going to find someone to help. He growled and whipped around to face her. "What the hell are you floating there for!? Go get some help!"

With that she started wailing and disappeared into a stall. Drew rolled his eyes and turned his attention back towards Luca.

"Why are you in here?"

"I came in here to ask Fred something!"Drew ground out in an equal tone to Luca's. He wasn't about to let his friend die like this. Luca was like family to him. His male role model. He really did look up to him.


"Jesus, get out, Drew!"

" I'm not leaving until you're on a stretcher to the hospital wing!" Drew snapped at him, tying the bandage tightly enough to cut off circulation.

He wouldn't be able to get one around his stomach easily and it wouldn't help anyway. He leapt to his feet, and ran for the door, sliding on the water now starting to flood the bathroom and to the door throwing it open " SOMEBODY HELP! SOMEONE GET THE NURSE!"

He slipped his way back to Luca. " I am not going to let you die! This isn't the answer! This is the coward's way out!"

He turned back towards the door. "Help!"

[Luca Lovell]

"Didn't you bloody hear me the first time?!" Luca growled. "Stop your yelling! You're going to attract someone! Get ov 'ear!"

Luca's speech slowly and steadily became even more quiet as more and more blood seeped out of him, despite Drew's frantic efforts to keep it all in. He could feel his clothes becoming very damn, and the pain where the knife was embedded was slowly going numb. Luca cursed under his breath, not yet ready to be void of pain. He slammed down his fist on the handle of the knife, moaning as it plunged a little bit deeper. He swore once more, to make it look as if he had done this all on an accident.

"Ey, look'earr Drew," Luca slurred, trying so very hard to keep his vision focused and Drew's face from blurring. "S'not what you wanna see, kidd-o. Ye shoul' run along now, aw'wite?"

He looked up at Drew with bleary eyes and knew that this was all a lost attempt. He knew he couldn't shake off Drew that easily, especially know that he had been found before his death... Especially covered in blood and doing great bodily harm to himself. And Drew, as Luca knew all to well, cared about him. Why did it have to be Drew to find him? Why couldn't it have been someone like that damn Macnair bloke he hated so much? At least Macnair would have respected his wishes and left him to die... Or so Luca liked to think.

But this was Drew, and Luca knew that he had just personally shattered yet another life. First he went off and dirtied Hadyn, and now he showed Drew a part of life that the happy-go-lucky Gryffindor kid hadn't needed to see. Luca's conscious was heavy, and so were his eye lids. He looked up at Drew again, fighting back the urge to black out on him.

"Jeezus, kid" Luca wheezed, trying to push himself up. "Ye won' be givin' up thisee-zee, nah will ya? C'mon, then... before I... before I... i's getting dark in here, eh?"

The color of the room was slowly fading to black, and Luca knew, even though he was completely high on something else, that he was coming to an end. Or he thought he was anyway. But he merely blacked out. His breathing continued at a normal pace, and it would for a while, unless Drew failed to get Luca to the hospital wing.

[Drew Longhorn]

No one was coming. Why was no one coming. This was the second floor. Someone should be coming. Where the hell was everyone?!

"Well, guess I'll have to do it myself. Calm down and focus," Drew said, slipping off his blazer. He would be able to move more freely without it. Then, he slipped his way back to Luca.

Knealing down on one knee, he took Luca's good arm and pulled it up around his neck, ignoring his slurs at the moment. He had to get him out of here. Somehow...

To be honest, Drew was lacking when it came to physical size and strength. This wasn't going to be easy. Luca was a big guy. But, he switched himself into autopilot. He was not going to think about this. Action first, think later. He kept repeating to that quietly to himself.

"Ye won' be givin' up thisee-zee, nah will ya? C'mon, then... before I... before I... i's getting dark in here, eh?"

"Oh, no you don't. You stay with me, bud. I'm not going to let you die a coward. I'll throw you off the roof and let you die a victim, but you're not going out a coward," Drew said, heaving upward, hopefully bringing Luca with him like a sack.

If no one would come, Drew Longhorn would drag Luca Lovell to the hospital wing.

Drew felt the hot blood seeping through his white shirt and he felt his own heartrate quicken. He had to move fast. Groaning with the struggle. "C'mon, you sorry ass weakling. Get moving. Let's go. "

When Drew wanted something accomplished he always put himself down. Challenged himself. Dared himself. He knew he had to do this. There was no thinking about. And with a grand heave, he was sure he had Luca pulled up on his back.

"Oh lord. You've been eaten, haven't you?" he groaned edging forward carefully to make sure he had his bearings. "Well, just hang tight."

[Luca Lovell]

Luca's sight came back to him within a few seconds, but to him, it had seemed like hours. He had just been lying on the floor, and now, all of a sudden, he was standing up. The blood was no longer flowing out and to the sides, but out and down him, and he was sure he was looking worse for the wear. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that he probably looked like a solider who had just gotten wounded in some nasty hand-to-hang combat. Luca felt that this statement could be all too true; He had just had hand-to-hand combat with himself. Either due to lack of blood or insanity, Luca giggled a little at the thought.

"Who yoo callin' weak?" Luca asked with humor in his voice. "Las' I knew, I wa-z the one winnin' all tha fights."

But it didn't look as if he was winning this one. His legs were wobbling beneath him, and he had to support himself on his younger friend, who wasn't nearly as tall as he. The recent loss of weight on Luca's part could help benefit Drew, but it still looked as if he were struggling. Even through the haze, Luca tried to take some weight off the poor kid. There was still a part of him gripping on to some kind of sanity, and it was screaming death threats at Luca for doing this to Drew. He knew that, once he was in the hospital and feeling much better, Drew would need to be dealt with.

He'd probably yell at Luca and demand an answer, but Luca wouldn't be able to give one to him. How could he ever admit to anyone that he had... raped Hadyn? Would he ever? Or would this haunt him silently for the rest of his life, always taunting him, and even pulling him back into this dark abyss? What if he tried to off himself again, and became even more successful?

Would Luca even make it to the hospital wing? A little bit of panic rose in his throat, and he seemed to hobble along faster. It was crazy how he had been wishing to die only moments before, and now he was trying to save his life. He'd regret it later, and he knew it all too well, but the sudden appearance of Drew made Luca's mind go in a different direction. He couldn't do that to the kid who looked up to him like a brother.

"C'mon, c'mon," Luca huffed. "Best be getting to the Wing, yeh?"

[/blockquote]

[Molly "Kat" Weasley II]

you take the breath right out of me
you left a hole where my heart should be

[/color]
YOU GOTTA FIGHT JUST TO MAKE IT THROUGH. [/color][/font]
------------------------------[/center]

She kept telling herself she wasn't going to do it. She wasn't going to go out of her way to avoid her own common room, her own dormitory. Just to avoid Orla Quirke, and her little group of 'Molly' haters. At least, that's what she told herself. Yet, here she was walking in from hours of playing chess by the black lake, and just who was by a warm fireplace? Just the thought of that warmth sounded like heaven. But there was a reason she wasn't Gryffindor. She was a bloody coward. Molly rubbed her gloved hand to her face, and her green eyes stared at the chess set she held in her arms. It was funny how Lucy was a twig and could stand such tempatures without a problem, while Molly was not a twig, yet she froze easily. Weaselsicle. Wouldn't that amuse everyone?

It would be obvious to anyone who had walked by that not only had she been playing herself, she had taken it quite seriously. White had been played the extreme strategist, while black had been played the extreme aggressor. It was almost as if two parts of herself were warring with each other. She'd ignored people snickering at her, and knew what people'd say, or think. The odd, strange, mute Weasley girl, playing by herself. Again.

But she preferred her own company to that of Orla, or people who had nothing interesting to say. Perhaps she was as snobby as Orla kept insisting she was. That was only because she knew she was intelligent and she couldn't and wouldn't abide idiots. Idiots that didn't know that Wizarding Chess was one of the greatest games that ever existed. Sadly, no one seemed to share this sentiment. Others ran in the opposite direction and weren't much of an opponent, and Lucy had tried, but was too flighty to sit through a game. She soon became bored and began moving chess pieces at random. It was sometimes fun to play against someone with no predictable pattern. Other times, such as now, she wanted to test out strategies. Finesse vs Aggression. Which would prevail? She was really performing a study, keeping track of the number of wins for each strategy to come up with a statistic. She had smiled secretly to herself as the white tower obliterated the black knight. It seems strategy was winning. So far. Not that anyone would ever be interested in her findings, but the fact she knew was enough. Molly rather liked knowing, she hated feeling inept. Which was why she was such a studious, bookworm. She also preferred chess, and her books, to people. People were too illogical, too complicated.

She'd stick to her chess games.

Molly pulled at her knit beret over waves of Weasley red hair. Her eyes never left the corridor ahead, the only sound to accompany her was the sound of her own boots. But the silence the girl was used to was shattered, not by a release of students from class, or a gaggle of giggling girls. But by someone screaming.
"SOMEBODY HELP! SOMEONE GET THE NURSE!"

Anyone else might have ran for the nurse, but Molly was logical. In the milliseconds it took to process that information, she'd already deduced that it would take more time to get the nurse and bring her back, to find whomever it was. Then there was the fact, the voice was familiar. The prized chess set she'd held in her hands, clattered to the floor, the pieces scattering in the corridor, but she didn't look back as she ran ahead. Her earlier thoughts of chess were gone, and her senses were straining for sounds to guide her. She couldn't have accurately surmised how much time had passed, before she got to the point where she heard voices from Myrtle's bathroom, and unceremoniously threw the door open. As she had ran faces had flashed through her mind, of people it could be, of what could have happened. A hex gone wrong, a cruel prank. Her mind hadn't even considered the sight that lay before her. Drew Longhorn was attempting to support someone with bandages that were now drenched in blood and no longer served their purpose. It took longer than it should have for her to recognize just who it was, maybe she hadn't wanted to consider the thought.

Her eyes met those of Luca Lovell's. Who was bleeding to death in front of her.

Her heart stopped. No, not to death. Not if she had anything to do about it. The girl whom many would have betted most likely to freak in such a situation was unnervingly calm, when on the inside she was a wreck. She saw the pathetic time consuming way Drew had chosen to take Luca to the get help, and wanted to demand whether or not he was a wizard. But she couldn't do that, especially with that look on his face. Instead, she pulled out her wand, and with a few quick words, and motions, the bloody bandages had disappeared and been replaced. A stretcher had been conjured.

Later Molly would tell herself that this was the reason she studied magic so hard. To be prepared. Later, she would gag at the memory of the overpoweringly metallic smell of Luca's blood. Later, she would break down. Later, she would wonder, who what where when how. Later. Right now, she was going to levitate Luca to the HW alive. She picked up the stretcher, and held it upright behind Luca. With willpower, she was able to keep her calm, even though her hands wanted to shake, and her skin wanted to crawl. Blood. So much blood. She could taste it. It was the smell of death. And she would make sure Luca escaped it.

She would not let Luca die. She could not let Luca die. And that much was clear by her expression. She was acting and not saying anything. In true Molly fashion. Words would be such a waste. Act. Do. Help.

When she was done strapping Luca to the stretcher, she grabbed Drew's hands to position them to hold Luca up, while she once again used her wand. Swish and flick.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

It took alot for a fourth year to be able to levitate someone of Luca's stature, even though slighted. But she gave it her full concentration, lowering the stretcher horizontally. She was rushing, barely motioning Drew to follow, Luca could be yelling, groaning, protesting, and she wouldn't have noticed. She wouldn't have cared. She would be cold, cool, logical. Because that would save Luca's life.

status; complete? (Morgie tell me what you think?)
length; onethousandninetythree
wearing; winter wear
mood; autopilot

[Luca Lovell]

Luca had been concentrating, putting all he could into walking toward the door. If he had been drunk, it would have been comical, but the fact that he was swaying and clinging on to Drew for dear life, talking in mish-mashed sentences clearly wasn't funny this time. He wasn't on a high from alcohol; He was on a high from blood loss, and with one tiny movement of his head he began to slip from Drew's arms. He thought he'd fall, and it seemed like a pretty long fall, but apparently Drew had a better grip on him than he was aware of.

"Kid, yeh take care of me," Luca mumbled, still going slowly as he inched toward the door. "I thought it'd always be me taking care of yew."

And just as he reached out his hand for the door, though it was much farther than his judgment seemed to think, it burst open. Standing before him was a beautiful something, and she seemed to shine brightly as she walked into the room. Luca looked at her in awe, completely unaware of the fact that he was staring at Molly. Yes, he knew who she was, but in light of the different situation, Luca had no idea at all that he was glimpsing one of his favorite Weasley girls.

"Oi! Look Drewy," Luca said, grinning. "I's an angel!"

The next few things that happened when by in a blur. Luca vaguely remembered a tingling sensation as the bloody bandages disappeared from his arms, legs, and stomach, replaced with crisp bright white ones that soon, too, would be covered in the scarlet red that was Luca's blood.

He also couldn't remember how he had gotten onto the stretcher, though Molly seemed to know what she was doing as she directed Drew around. Luca laid back on the stretcher, feeling awfully tired and relaxed as the bed began to hover in mid-air. The feeling was like that of being rocked and it didn't help that Luca was loosing so much blood; Slowly, his eyes began to drift closed, and he was loosing sight of Drew and his angel.

"N'igh." Luca murmured.

His breathing slowed, yet did not cease, as he fell into a black unconsciousness. He would not be aware once they got him to the hospital, and he would most definitely not be aware of the two and the entire situation until he was back to himself. How long that would take, no one knew.

[/size]

[Drew Longhorn]

This isn't working!He's going to bleed to death! Oh, what do I do? What do I do?You've got to move faster, Longhorn Torment was the only way to describe the expression on the face of Drew Longhorn. He was failing epicly.

A flash of red went by him and all the sudden he had all of Luca's weight off his shoulders. What the hell was happening? His head was spinning especially as she conjured up the stretcher and air lifted Luca onto it. How could he have been so stupid!? Of course! There was a spell for a stretcher! Drew felt like punching himself repeatedly. He cursed himself and his muggle reactions. He hadn't been raised to resort to magic first thing like Molly and Luca had. All throughout his first four years here he'd thought like a muggle. He felt sick to his stomach at how he was acting.

"Kid, yeh take care of me.I thought it'd always be me taking care of yew."

" Yeah, I try," he was helpless. He couldn't breath. Couldn't think. Especially as Molly went through all the motions of saving Luca's life and directing Drew without a word. He felt useless and griped the leviatating stretcher more for support when Molly's soft hands guided him there.

"Oi! Look Drewy,I's an angel!"

Drew looked up at Molly from where he was at the back of the stretcher. He didn't know what he would've done without her. He was certaintly a great mess and she was so level headed. She was a vision. "Yea, she is, mate."

"N'igh."

"Oh, no you don't, mister," Drew said almost weakly. Desperately. His voice was cracking and filled with worry and guilt. He even thought he was going to have a panic attack. What was he doing standing here? "Good god I'm such an idiot. Let's get moving!"

Calm down, Drew. I think you're having a panic attack. It'll all be over in a moment. Just focus on getting there.

[Molly "Kat" Weasley II]

you take the breath right out of me
you left a hole where my heart should be

[/color]
YOU GOTTA FIGHT JUST TO MAKE IT THROUGH. [/color][/font]
------------------------------[/center]

"Oi! Look Drewy. I's an angel!"

status; in progress
length;
wearing; winter wear
mood; autopilot