Brain Dama-ama-age [Eddie]

Whelp! Sirius Black couldn't call him a pussy anymore! Whoever said Ravenclaws couldn't be stupid and brave had obviously never met Eddie Muler. The thrill seeking boy had never been able to turn down a good dare, and when his new mate Sirius had bet him he was too chicken to jump out the window of the second story into the two feet of fluffy snow below, Eddie had hoped up onto the ledge to prove him wrong. Both boys had figured that the snow would be thick enough to cushion a fall and prevent serious damage. Young Mr. Black had even agreed to jump down after Eddie if he had 'survived' the landing. What the two of them hadn't accounted for, was how hard the frozen ground was under the light snow, and how efficiently human legs cut through the powder. Now, sitting in a hospital bed, waiting for both his broken shins to be mended, Eddie Muler wondered if maybe he should have thought his actions through better.

He had been sitting in that bed for more than an hour now, and because of some freak accident in the potions lab, he might have to wait even longer. Why couldn't it have been his arm, or a rib, or something, he found himself thinking; if it had been anything else, he could have checked the hospital wing out to see how busy it was, and come back later for an appointment with the nurse. But instead, with mashed up shins, he was confined to this bed, with the blanket over him so no one could see how weird his legs looked right now. No homework to do, no books to read, no friends to talk to, now music to listen to. All he has was the conversations and cries of other students around the wing, and he was slowly going stir crazy. He had to find something to preoccupy himself with!


He looked to his bookbag on the chair near the curtain and spat angry words at the inanimate object for being so far out of his reach. If only he could reach the dice inside, or one of his papers, or his god damn wand so he could summon the dice! No luck though. What to do- what to play with? He looked about for things within reach that he could turn into toys, but with no prevail. Pompy knew the boy too well at this point and knew it was best keep anything important away from him. if only he had a pen and paper! A length of string! Anything! Wait... was he still wearing his boots? Throwing back the covers, the boy smiled when he saw the black military boot were still on his feet.breathing deeply to bare through the pain, Eddie bent forward at the waist and reached for the boots. Brawn and toughness had never been strong points of Edd's, but quickness and dexterity had been. He was quiet flexible, compared to most people, and with a few, relaxing breaths, he was able to fold himself so that his fingers could reach the shoe strings at the end of his outstretched feet. With a little difficulty, he managed to untie the laces and unstring them from the soft leather boots. He let out a hiss as he sat up and the pain went away, and smiled at his new plaything.

Not having many friends growing up had taught the boy to be resourceful and adaptive. When he was younger, he couldn't always find people who wanted to play chess, or cards, or cat's cradle with him, so he had learned to play by himself. Tying the ends of his laces together, he went through he memorized movements of the last game, knitting the string over his fingers into the starting cradle. The lace wasn't long enough, really, and it was a tight fit to get his hands into the gaps to perform the next moves, but he managed to make it work. With his hands busy, Eddie now felt much more comfortable and could possibly wait another hour for treatment, as long as the pain in his legs didn't get too unbearable... or he didn't crave a smoke..

The curly haired boy took to whistling to keep his mind and mouth active so that he wouldn't think about his addiction that he had been trying, unsuccessfully, to quit for a year. It was a happy tune, with short, upbeat, repetitive notes. a new, punky little thing he had heard on the radio last time he was in the car with his dad. Something about kids losing their minds, and being revved up and ready to go...

Something about a blitzkrieg...

"How do you do that?" It was a simple phrase, asked quietly enough from somewhere in the room that it just seemed like background noise. The words themselves were clear enough to catch Eddie's attention though, and the boy looked around to see if he could eavesdrop on whatever conversation was going on around him. It surprised him to find that the conversation was, in fact, pointed at him in the first place. His baby blue eyes went wide in surprise, and he found himself asking, like and idiot, "Huh? Me?"

"It's a series of movements that I've memorized that mimic the moves two player would exchange in the game. I learned it from a Vietnamese lady-" he stopped talking when he realized that his words were just confusing the poor girl, which in turn confused him. His fingers kept flipping through the string expertly as his eyes fixed on the blond, trying to figure out what she had been talking about. Instinctively, as if to spur the poor boys slow brain on, his lips puckered into a small purse and the song came back on his breath. A look of realization came across his face and he laughed happily, "OH! You meant the whistling!"

"You don't know how to whistle?" He asked with amusement. He had heard of that being a thing, but he had never met someone who couldn't before. He was pretty sure it had to do with genetics, and couldn't be taught, but he was about ready to waste time trying anyways. There was nothing better to do. "You have to push you lips in at the corners as hard as you can to make a tight circle." He demonstrated for her, making a perfect little circle with his lips. "Your lips have to be damp too! I find lip balm works really well for whistling. Helps keep everything all lubed up! Spit dries out to fast." He produced a quick minor scale through his pursed lips before noticing the gash on the girl's head and stopping.

"That looks nasty." He winced, looking over the injury from his spot on the bed, leaning towards her to see better. "Hey, if you can get my wand from my bag, I should be able to knit that up for you. I've been practicing healing, and closing wounds is one thing I'm getting good at!" he tried scooting over in the bed so that she would have space to sit next to him, and patted the bed enthusiastically. "Don't want you bleeding out on us! I'll just close it up enough so that it holds until the nurse gets here."

"Whoa!" Eddie called out in fear as the girl nearly took a nose dive into his lap. In his hindered condition, he felt useless to help the girl, but he managed to grab a firm hold on her shoulders and kept her steady for the moment. He noticed the bright red towel in her head and knew right away she was in no condition to be standing, "Oh crap! You've lost a lot of blood! You were lucky to make it over here!" He cleared a larger spot for the girl, moving his battered legs to the side to give her room. He untangled his fingers from his boot string and put the toy on the table beside the bed, readying himself for whatever might be under the towel.

The girl moved her hand slowly, and Eddie recoiled in disgust, but immediately tried to hide the reaction and pretend like nothing was wrong. "Nope! No-err... Not bad at all!" he laughed nervously, silently cursing himself for being so eager to help. He wasn't sure he was qualified to handle such an injury. The nurse was booked solid though, and if he didn't try to do anything about her wound, it was quite possible that the girl could pass out from blood loss. The wound needed attention now, and he was going to have to be the one to do it. "Okay, I can do this." he assured himself, rolling up his sleeves. "I.... er... is that a piece of glass?"

Leaning in over the girl's wound, so close that he breath could be felt on her cheek, he pulled back her towel again to check out the large gash. He thought he had seen something glittering in the wound that had alarmed him. Sure enough, sticking slightly out of the girl's forehead was a long, curved piece of glass. After moments disgusted contemplation, it occurred to him that this broken shard looked like it could have been the side piece of a beaker from the potions classroom. "What happened to you!" He gasped, touching the piece gingerly. "Okay... I think I know why you're bleeding so much. There is glass in here. It's probably stuck through a large vein and is keeping the wound from closing on it's own. I'm going to have to get it out of there before I try and close it." He swallowed hard, "Ok?"

"I'm gonna just take this big one out by hand, okay? So hold still..." he stuttered a moment in his movements, then decided it would probably be best if she was laying down. "Put this under your feet," He told her, pulling a pillow out from behind him and handing it to her. "You've lost too much blood. You need to have your feet elevated so that there is more blood to your head and you don't pass out." He leaned in over her head and readied his hands, pulling back to make a suggestion.

"Hey? I want you to close you eyes and think of you best day ever." He said quietly, waiting for her to close her eyes before taking in a deep breath and putting his fingers gingerly on the glass, and taking the bloody towel from her, ready to stop the bleeding. "Tell me about what you did on that day" He waiting till she was deep into her story before tightening his grip on the slick piece of glass and yanking it out in one clean tug.

“Well would you look at that!” The boy said, in awe of the sheer size of the glass piece he had removed. His focus on the little bit of shrapnel kept him completely oblivious of the girl for a moment as he pondered aloud, “ how the hell did all of that manage to hide in there?” He did hear her head hit the pillow again though, and it was enough to at least remind him what was going on around him. “Huh, OH! Right!” Now that the obstruction was out of her skin, he was gonna have to heal her up. He needed to halt the blood, which was now coming out strong, while he found his wand. He passed over the bloody towel she had come in with, figuring it was too drenched to soak up much more blood, and grabbed the bed sheet instead, forcing it down on her head and applying pressure to the wound. With all the blood around him, and the yells from other students in the room, he suddenly felt like he was in triage on a battle field and it made him excited, and sick at the same time.

“It’s okay! Your good! I’m going to clean the wound and heal it now!” he let her know what he was going step by step to keep her calm and keep her conscious. “So if you could pass me my-“ Oh shit. That’s right. He had asked her to get his wand from his bag, but she had been in suck a terrible state that she had only had time to waddle over to his bed before nearly passing out. There was no possible way she could get it now, and with his bones jutting out from his skin all bellow his knees, he surely wasn’t going to get it either. “Shit... this really is like battlefield triage...” he muttered as he figured he was going to have to make due with a less suitable option.

Biting back pain, he stretched and bent himself around the girl- without the use of his legs- as he reached through her pockets, trying to find her wand. He did find the thing in one of her front pockets, ignoring how personal he had to be to get it. Eddie was so focused on his goal, he wouldn’t have even been able to tell you what the instrument looked like as he brought it to the girl’s face and went about his work. “I need you to keep talking.” He said in a stern voice, trying to keep himself calm while covered in someone else’s blood. “You like quidditch do you? How did that story end? Did you win the game?” He needed her to keep talking, to keep her distracted, and to keep him focused.

Edwin pulled back the blanket quickly and tried to cast a water spell with the barrowed wand, but all it did was make a fizzle sound. “Common!” He whispered to the thing, bringing it up to his face to talk to it like it was a living thing capable of reasoning. “I know I’m not a great wizard, and I know I’m not worthy of using you, but I need you help! I’m trying to help your mistress, and if I don’t work quickly, she could pass out. Please!” He lowered the wand, and after one more fail at the auguamenti spell, the wand sputtered and relented a little, sputtering the weakest stream of water he’d ever seen, but it was enough to wash out any residue from the explosion, including a few more slivers of glass.

“What’s you name?” he continued to distract her as he lowered the tip of the wand inches from her wound and began to hum his healing spell gently- a quiet, slow song that seemed to sooth the busy air of the hospital wing.

The girl didn't say anything right away, and it would have been a lie to say this didn't alarm Eddie. For a moment, he was afraid that he had let the girl pass out, but glancing down quickly, he noticed her eyes still open, looking at him. The was good, he figured, as he continued about his work.

He skin was taught, and had pulled back from the wound quiet a bit, making it difficult to knit the gash back together. Throw on top of it all that he was using a wand that didn't like him, and evidently his progress was slow. But her persisted, slowly moving the glowing tip of the wand from edge to edge, growing a soft layer of skin over the bloody mess the explosion had caused. He moved her crusty, blood dried bangs out of the way of his work as he hummed the spell louder, trying to get more oomph from the wand. The blood stopped eventually and he lowered the wand with a thankful smile, letting his body relax with a great sigh.

"I'm Katrina," The girl said in the now relative din, "But you can call me Kat.... And you are?"

"I'm Edwin." He smile, using more bed sheet to dab drops of lingering water off her face, "But you can call me Eddie." He paused, taking a moment to make sure he'd gotten everything. He had been so panicked a moment ago, and now that the rush was over, he felt like he was still vibrating with urgency. He put her wand down on the end table by the cot and let his shoulders sag, hanging over her. "It's good to meet you, my Quidditch loving friend."

"How's it feel?" He asked quietly, "Anything hurt? Any other cuts I should know about? Be careful! It's only a temporary heal thing. You'll still need a nurse, but at least you're not bleedin' all over the place, right?"

Eddie hesitated to let the girl sit up. He threw his arms in front of her, half expecting her to pass out and he would have to catch her. she thankfully didn't, and with a relieved sigh, he flopped back in the bed- missing a few pillows now- and hit his head off the wall with a dull thud and a wince. He made no noise and continued to smile as if nothing had happened.

"I don't mean to be rude," The young blond spoke up, catching Ed's attention, "But why are you here? Are you sick?"

"Horribly so." The boy nodded with a pout, playing up his injury before the big reveal, " I caught the worst disease of all... stupidity." With that, he shuffled to get the tangled blankets free, and lifted up the edge opposite the girl, revealing his legs that were now only a little weird looking, and just blood crusted, not blood washed.

"I-" the boy fought to find a way to make what he was going to say next seem a little less ridiculous..... NOPE! There wasn't one! "-Jumped out of the third story on the Ravenclaw tower. I thought the snow would be enough to cushion my fall!" He laughed loudly, fond of the memory, and sighed, "Turns out the stuff wasn't as deep as I thought it was. Broke both my shins. 'Thank god for magic', is all I can say. Back home, I'd be in the hospital for weeks!"

"You should lay back, rest your head," he offered, patting his pillow as he moved over to make room for the girl to lay next to him, "You've had a busy day! Bet you're tired- and now that your heads all stitched up, you should be able to sleep without going into a coma... I think...

"And hey! When you're all better, you should take me in a ride in a wheelchair! We can race down the halls, and cut first in lines- it'll be great!" He laughed happily as he laid back down on the bed, starring at the ceiling.

"I can tell that we are going to be friends..." He yawned lazily.