dead on your feet ;; meical

[Deleted]

Any other day if you asked Charlotte Sawyer how was work she would answer the same way she always did: “Work was great! I love my job!” However, if you asked her this question when she just got off a really hard shift, you would get a different response. It would be more along the lines of, “I want to run away and never come back to St. Mungo’s again.” It wasn’t that the work was too hard-- it was challenging, but not impossible-- and it wasn’t that she wasn’t thanked and appreciated. It was that it was so damn tiring. Today had been an increasingly normal schedule for her. As soon as she was clocked in at work everything turned into a hectic mess, and she was bounced from one problem to the next. She had been here for going on three years now, and she was starting to actually get the hang of what to do. She didn’t have to ask as many questions-- she still had to ask some, but with less frequency. She didn’t feel like a complete dunce either, which was a plus! She hated it when she felt like an idiot. She was attempting to figure out the way to go home with the least amount of work. This was a rather difficult dilemma, because there was no way she could get to her apartment without exerting some form of effort. She was gathering her belongings from the small corner they were allowed to keep their personal belongings, humming to herself as her brain whirled. Of course she was going to apparate but she had to climb down four flights of stairs before she could. That was easier said than done. “I could go home,” she muttered to herself as she sat down on a nearby bench to tie her tennis shoes. “Or I could collapse on this bench and nap.” She was actually eyeing it as if she was seriously debating if she could do this or not. No one here would probably judge her for it. She hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before, and hadn’t thought it would be such a hard shift today.

Meical | 367| HERE YOU ARE SEAN-YKINS

[Deleted]

In general Meical had been enjoying the extra responsibility that had been thrust upon the trainees. The increase workload when combined with the ever present shortage of mediwizards and healers meant that they were constantly busy. However, the past week had been particularly stressful as his supervisor (like many of the specialists at St Mungo’s) was away at some healer meeting. From Mike’s experience with these meetings they were generally designed in such a way that each specialist was able to take time off from work, stay in an expensive hotel on the hospitals budget, mingle with other hotshots in the healing world and stroke each other’s ego. Sure, they may be discussing trends and incidence in an attempt to develop a public health model aimed at reducing the over worked staff at various hospitals but it never really seemed to amount to changes in policy. Any sensible wizard would shake their heads in disgust. But, for Meical that meant he was currently the hospital’s most senior treating healer of spell damage defensive injuries. On the other hand, today had been one particularly stressful day and he was certain that he wasn’t alone. It seemed like everyone and his dog was bouncing in and out of the Spell Damage ward desperately seeking some form of magical solution. There was a man who had suffered a hex that left him oozing green blood, another who had touched an unusual ‘dark’ object that burnt anyone instantly on touch- then after the first few minutes the burn continued to creep up the arm. By the time the poor gentlemen had arrived his entire arm and part of his torso was covered in full thickness burns which were blistering with the sickeningly sweet odour of candied cherries. Of course there were also those that managed to end up in the spell damage ward whose injuries did not exactly fit within the parameters of their job description, but generally speaking you don’t turn away someone who is wailing in agony. Finally, after thirteen hours without a single break, Mike’s replacement had arrived and he had clocked out for the day. He had changed from his lime green healer robes, and sent them off to the laundry for cleaning, replacing his attire with a more simple casual set of black robes. He had washed his eyes and face three or four times in an attempt to rid himself of that ever so common stinging sensation and feeling of filth that is often associated with working so close to people who are unwell. In reality, he was ready to head on home and collapse into his favourite armchair, drink some fire whiskey, listen to some muggle tunes and get some shut eye. Well, it was either that or go to the cafeteria for some dinner… but he found that a far less appealing idea. As he made the final rounds and wishing the night crew a good shift he found himself passing by one of his more favourite staff members. Fellow trainee Charrlotte, who was muttering quietly to herself. In any other profession this may seem unusual, talking to yourself when you are facing an inanimate object such as a bench or in his case staring at himself blindly in the mirror whilst talking. But, it came with the job… that slight insanity was honestly a prerequisite of being a healer, and Mike wasn’t exactly one to judge. Mike hesitated for a moment, observing her in an attempt to determine whether or not it would be appropriate for him to disturb her. It was of course common curiously to give a fellow staff member some peace and quiet if that was what they required… “You know” He stated, his voice casual as he made the split second decision that he would engage Charrlotte in conversation. “I have always wondered just how you manage to keep your hair so perfect after such a long day.” He chuckled lightly, shaking his head and tapping her lightly on the shoulder as he spoke. “Me, every time I get frustrated I rake my hands through my hair, by the end of the day I end up looking like I have bed hair, I swear I will go bald before I am thirty.”

MIKE | 711 | Oh hi there!

[Deleted]

Charlotte was almost to the point of exhaustion where she thought for a moment the bench was speaking back to her. She hadn’t hit insanity yet, had she? You don’t hit that stage until you’re at least a healer, almost a mediwizard... right? She blinked several times and her vision cleared, just in time for the tap on her shoulder to alert her to her foolish thoughts. “Oh,” she murmured as she turned to stare up at Meical. Slowly a tired smile came to her lips and reached up self consciously to touch the red locks that he spoke of. “Honestly, I have no idea how I do it either. When I’m really busy, I usually end up tapping my hand on my thigh repeatedly. Drives people around me insane!” She wanted to stand up to speak with him (wouldn’t that be common courtesy?) but honestly her muscles weren’t working in her legs. She felt like right now it was a good idea to remain seated. She sighed before taking in another deep breath, hoping the extra air would steel her for the journey home. It had been a thirteen hour shift and she really wanted to just crash right about now. She adored Charms, but all the spells she had to undo today were quite ridiculous. Why, one man had messed up the most simple of spells! How had he done that anyway? She was still reeling over all the possibilities. How does one mess up leviosa? He must have done a bad swish or flick, or maybe even pronounced it wrong. She would never know, more than likely, because she was adept enough to always do it correctly. “You look about as tired as I do,” she said, and somehow her voice remained somewhat cheerful despite the sluggish nature of her brain. She hadn’t even had caffeine today and she was still able to at least pretend to be alert. “Want to sit down for a second?” She patted the bench spot next to her, which she had previously been talking to, and smiled up at him. “I could use the company, or I might start talking to this bench again. He’s a very good listener, you know!” It was a good thing she didn’t have any roommates. At one point she had thought about sharing a place with Iris, but had changed her mind at the last minute. She would be getting in at odd hours and would probably only use it to sleep. It wouldn’t do good to share it with someone else and have them catching her being looney. She did talk to the blender sometimes when she thought it was looking at her funny, but that was probably her sleep deprivation talking. When she was awake and alert she didn’t honestly believe the blender was looking at her funny. No, no, that was her microwave. “How was your shift?” She asked him, though she had an inkling she already knew the answer. Spell Damage’s Healers (for all three departments) were out because of some seminar or other. Though the first time it happened she had been delighted, now it just made her groan whenever they told them they would be going. They went to it all the time! It never changed anything, so why bother? Because after years of working this job, they realized how crazy and chaotic it could be and wanted to escape while still being paid for their time. Ugh, Charlotte wished she could be a full blown healer already. She still had almost three years left, possibly four! Why wouldn’t time just fly by already? Now that she thought about it, wasn’t Mike almost to the age to be able to take the tests? He could be a Healer soon! If she could, she would probably be turning green with envy right about now. She wanted to be at that stage in her life! She felt like she just worked and worked until her fingers were almost worked to the bone, and yet still didn’t have anything much to show for it. She was still in the same position from when she left Hogwarts! Blimey, she wasn’t really headed anywhere. Well, she was, it was just going to take years to get to the next promotion. These thoughts were making her think she needed a drink.

Meical | 730| STEP UP MY GAME SONNN

[Deleted]

It was hard not to smile as Mike considered all the unusual things he had done under the influence of sleep deprivation. While being a wizard had its perks (in particular some seriously powerful anti-sleep drafts), however after a few consecutive days of overwork and the ‘downing’ effects as the drafts wore off left the user suffering from what could only be referred to as ‘scrambled brain syndrome.’ Honestly, this was the real reason visitors were generally denied access from the wards in the evenings and early hours of the morning. One instance that sprung to mind was when Mike wandered down to the cafeteria for some food at the end of a long shift, then proceeded to absentmindedly proceed back up to the ward and worked an additional three hours before realising that he was supposed to be wrapped up in his sleep. Another instance was when he mistook one of the mediwizards for his younger sister and had what he assumed would have been the most bizarre conversation with her. “Ohhh…. So that’s why I always see you standing there with your hands on your hips… Here I was thinking you were practicing for your next profession as a model” He smiled cheerfully, although doing so seemed to make his face twinge with a dull pain. It was a bad sign when it had been such a long day that he experienced physical discomfort from smiling. His mentor had once in passing told him that he needed to smile more when talking to patients, as it would assist them in relaxing. As such, he had been making a conscious effort to ensure that he did so. As the hospital had been so busy over the past few days and he was seeing at least double his usual patients per day that meant more smiling, more consultation with families, and more tedious paperwork. He hesitated slightly as she offered him a seat, pondering the thought for a moment. It was exceptionally tempting to take a seat on one of his favourite relaxation spots… but on the other hand he knew if he sat down it would be unlikely that he would leave, and it was exceptionally important that he took time to go home and recuperate. “I was thinking of heading to the cafeteria, with how hectic everything has been today I didn’t get a chance to eat anything since before work, and I’ll be honest, I’m so hungry that even those stale scones that have been sitting in there since before I started seem pretty appetising right now. Plus I think I need to take my leave from this ward… it seems to have taken up enough of my life over the last week… Would you care to join me?” Giving her a small smile Mike held out his hand to give her a hand assuming she was equally as exhausted as he was. When she asked about work he gave a small grimace. Although he had been enjoying it, he had to admit it was exhausting having to work so hard, especially when he knew that in a few months’ time he would be able to disappear and leave another trainee in charge. “It’s been…. Hectic… good stats for when they get back, but still, I don’t think I have slept properly all week. I have been running on fumes for the better part of the week. Thank god I had a stockpile of sleepless drafts at home.” He laughed, for the first time in what felt like days. He still wasn’t quite used to the whole statistics system that had been implemented recently. It was some strange way of tracking how many people had come into the ward and how quickly they had been treated. Of course, those stats were expected to go mental during the moments of staff shortages, but that didn’t stop managers from getting grumpy whenever patient lists in your specific area weren’t up to ‘scratch’. Before Mike started training he never realised just how exceptionally over complicated working at a hospital could be. Like much of the wizarding world he was oblivious to how political, and completely overrun with rules and regulations the field had become. Yet, no matter how ridiculous the policies would get, media outlets like the daily prophet continued to ignore the hospitals. Mike often wondered just what would happen if ordinary witches and wizards ever discovered how treatment was triaged and how poorly staffed St Mungo’s really was. Perhaps it was a pesemistic view on wizarding society but he often wondered whether the secrecy surrounding healing was specifically designed to ensure that the public continued to be oblivious to how complex the discipline had become.

Charrolette | 787 | Sorry, very tired when writing this…

[Deleted]

“Oh no,” Charlotte assured quickly, a grin flitting to her lips as she looked up at him. “Model? No, my next career choice would be a singer! I’m very gifted, you know. I only sometimes sound like a warbling cat.” That was what Iris would tell her when they went out to karaoke anyway. Charlotte had long since learned to stop attempting to sing when others were around. She just wasn’t cut out for it. “Model though? Maybe I’ll keep that as a backup to my backup career.” “Food?” She asked him while raising her brows. “You actually think we’re allowed to eat?” It was tempting to go with him; her own stomach was growling extremely fiercely and demanding to be sated. She just didn’t want to move. Her muscles protested at the mere thought, so she would hate to see how they felt when she actually stood up! They were going to hate her. Heck, right about now she was hating herself for choosing such a hectic, busy profession. Why didn’t she become a librarian? Sit at a desk all day and check books in and out. She could have easily gotten a muggle job; her whole family were non-magical and they could get her a job someplace! Then she wouldn’t have to worry about all these nasty spells and undoing them. But no matter how much she groused and complained she still loved her job dearly. She wouldn’t want to be any other profession. Even if it annoyed her that the higher ups didn’t help out as much as they should, and she had to do a lot of grunt work, she still enjoyed the job itself. She liked helping people get better and watching as their family crowded around them, all smiles and thankfulness that their dear family member is now alright. Yes, she wouldn’t trade it, even if it meant she herself wouldn’t have to take another sleepless draft ever again. It did take her by surprise when he offered his hand. Oh, what reason did she have to turn him down now? It was like he had practically read her mind. The only reason she had been thinking of saying no was because of how hard it would be to get up. “Well,” she said and reached out, taking his hand and allowing him to assist her to her feet. “Since you asked so nicely for my pleasing company, I shall go with you!” She teased and she grinned at him before brushing her hands over her clothes to smooth the wrinkles. She had practically collapsed after changing out of her work clothes, so she was sure she had ruffled them quite a bit. “You had a stockpile!?” She asked him and practically groaned as she tugged at the ends of her hair. “I wish I had thought to do that. I have one or two, but never enough! I never think to make more, or even go out and buy them. They’re pricey and I’m just not willing to shell out that much money on them when I can make them. Of course, it’s the having enough time to make them part that’s the problem.” She shook her head. “But the Charms division has been rather hectic too! I love and hate the busy days; love them because your time goes by much quicker, hate because you never get a spare moment to yourself.” She was attempting to eat lunch today when she had been pulled away, midbite. She was rather forlorn she hadn’t finished that sandwich. It had looked heavenly to her hungry stomach! But when work called that meant you couldn’t put it off. Someone usually came to jerk you back and tell you harshly that you couldn’t leave on your break. You had to stay in the ward! What was the point of breaks then, if you couldn’t sneak away for a little rest or food? She wasn’t sure St. Mungo’s operated with common sense in mind. “I wish we could have more trainees,” she said forlornly. Only two for every division in Spell Damage didn’t seem to be enough. Trainees were the ones who did the bulk of the work, and only having two on duty at a time? That was insane! Somedays Charlotte felt like her fingers were going to fall off from gripping her wand and doing spells over and over. Budget cuts probably kept St. Mungo’s from hiring more trainees however, even though they were already paid so little. They just couldn’t afford to staff more than two at a time for each division. It was a pain in her butt. “I wonder if they’re still carrying that sandwich I tried to eat earlier. It’s calling my name right now and I just can't ignore that kind of call,” she told him and grinned again. Though he was right about being so hungry that you’d eat anything; Charlotte was pretty much at that point, and if she didn’t get the sandwich she wouldn't cry over it. She’d eat whatever she could get in front of her and like it. Her stomach was quite insistent on that point.

Meical | 864| LET ME SING YOU THE SONG OF MY PEOPLE

[Deleted]

He pondered Charlotte’s idea of becoming a singer for a moment. Trying to remember if he had ever been around her when she had been singing. Of course, the two had worked together ever since she started at St Mungo’s but that did not mean that they had spent much time outside of work hours together. It was a bit like that at St Mungo’s, everyone was friendly enough, but considering how busy they all were there was very little outside friendships. Also, it didn’t help that when things got super hectic (like they usually did) tempers had a habit of flaring rather viciously. Mike was particularly guilty of becoming incredibly snappy when he was having a busy and unproductive day. He always apologised later for it, but he knew he could be a real DRAGONDUNG-head at times. Perhaps it was the sleep deprivation or maybe it was the lack of knowing Charlotte outside of work, but he had no idea if she was joking or not. Instead he decided it would be best to just play along. “Oh yeah? Picked a genre of music that tickles your fancy? I hear the music industry is pretty fickle, although it may be a little easier than working here at time” He could feel his stomach aching as he thought about the concept of getting something to eat, and yet it seemed to be consuming his thoughts at this precise moment. Of course, being so late in the evening, one of two things may happen. There may be a delicious, freshly cooked batch of food waiting for them to devour… or it could be the dregs of the previous day. Given a choice, he would totally kill for something warm that required as little effort as possible to ingest. Perhaps a pumpkin or ham and pea soup. He could feel his stomach twinge uncomfortably as he thought about it, but the thought was exceptionally intoxicating. He smiled brightly as she agreed to join him for some food, and took his hand. “You know, my predecessor once told me that he nicknamed the bench you were just sitting on because he spent more time sleeping on it between shifts than he did back in his home.” As he spoke his free hand attempted to flatten his overly messy hair. It felt good to be in the company with someone else for a change. Sure, he may have been spending most of his time working with people but usually once he finished the last thing he wanted to do was have another conversation. Being a healer seemed to have that effect on you, being stuck around people all day, having to explain countless times to families what you were doing and console people who were exceptionally upset had its moments really. By the end of the day, Mike would usually be ready to go home and shut himself away from the world. That is of course unless he decided to go out drinking instead…. Which seemed to be happening more and more frequently as the stress levels of work increased. “I agree with you” he stated in reply to her wish that St Mungo’s hired more trainee healers. No doubt, the lack of funding would always make it difficult to fill the wards with trainees, but Mike always wondered just how many applicants from school they actually received. Thinking back to the days of Hogwarts, he didn’t know if any of his fellow students were interested in joining the healing profession. Most seemed more interested becoming Aurors, or ministry members, some even became professional Quidditch players… “What I don’t get is why they don’t hire more specialists… I mean seriously, the more staff we have the more effective our treatment could be after all.

Charrolette | 630| MUSE WHERE ARE YOU?

[Deleted]

“Well,” she said and tapped her lower lip. “I have put much thought into this, you know. As my backup plan, it has to be perfect and failsafe. St. Mungo’s, you know, is just a fickle lover to us trainees and that means I need to be ready if she abandons me.” She turned and flashed him a grin. Of course she kept up the joking air, mostly because she enjoyed teasing. She was off work, and it was time to cut loose a little. Ugh, she hated being all stuffy while she was at work, but she did enjoy the actual occupation so she usually brushed it off. Always being on the go got to be too much sometimes. “I’m thinking I’m going to be a country singer,” she confided in him in a stage whisper, winking cheekily. “My voice does this amazing warble on the ends of my words while I’m singing! I just know I have it nailed.” She paused for dramatic effect, and then chuckled. “I’m just joshing with you; I’m a horrid singer and I’ve been told I sound like a dying cat when I try. It takes a lot of alcohol in my system to get me to even open my mouth to belt out a few tunes.” She shrugged. “Guess I should go back to the drawing board, drat! I’ll have to pick out a new secondary career. I wonder if being a janitor would be less stressful than this?” She glanced back at the bench one last time as they walked away, then turned back with a hand over her heart. “I feel betrayed!” She told him in a joking whisper. “I thought that bench and I had been entering into a serious relationship. He never told me his name!” She shook her head and sighed, placing a hand against her face and looking forlornly away. “Betrayal. It stabs my heart to pieces.” Then she perked up and turned another cheerful smile in his direction. “I’m kidding, I haven’t delved that deep into insanity yet! What did he name it? Do you recall? That’d be interesting to know. I do sleep on that bench a lot, though other trainees usually beat me to it when I have to work the rare occasional morning shift.” “I guess they don’t think that far ahead,” Charlotte mused aloud, tapping her lower lip as she walked along beside him. “I wouldn’t be surprised. They’re more obsessed with figures and ratios and statistics than they are with our actual staffing. More specialists would be really nice though, you’re right! Everyone has been having to handle more things outside of their comfort zone lately, and that’s not a good recipe for harmonious treatment.” Charlotte had always thought that once she got to St. Mungo’s that everything would be great. It was a little disappointing to know that that ideal hadn’t held up to the real thing. It was hectic, always busy and you were always on your feet, and you barely got enough sleep at night. But she still felt like she was doing something worthwhile and she enjoyed the duties this job came with. Even if she hated being a trainee, someday she would pass her test and be promoted as a Healer. She just had to hang on until that day came. “It smells promising,” she said as they rounded a corner. The cafeteria wasn’t too far away, and the smells wafted down the corridor. “Though it could be that they just reheated some old food.” They had done that last week and it had made her feel as if she had been stabbed. It was like a betrayal; the trainees got so excited after their shifts for new food, then it turned out those delicious smells were just reheated old food with new spices sprinkled on top to mask it. Sometimes she wondered if the kitchen staff did this to taunt them, laugh at their pain. One day she actually saw a trainee who had only been around for a week start crying because she was so hungry and desperate, she actually ate some of the horrible reheated porridge from the morning before. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen that girl again after that. Maybe she had quit? “There will be hell to pay if I don’t get my sandwich,” she said, and though there was a threat behind the words her voice was still cheerful. She was always told that was the scary thing about her: she could sound so happy and carefree while saying the worst and most horrible things to people. “I will hunt down the guy who dragged me away from it on my break and I will make him buy me a gourmet one after work tomorrow!”

Meical | 801| SHE'S GONNA BREAK SOME KNEE CAPS

[Deleted]

Perhaps it was the old muggle country music that his mother used to like, or perhaps it was just such an unusual branch of music that the very concept made Mike choke with laughter. “C-c-country?” he asked in between silent fits of laughter. “You mean… like the muggle music with the wide brimmed hats, button up shirts and acoustic guitar?” Mike hadn’t exactly seen Charlotte outside of work, but he found it particularly difficult to imagine her donning such peculiar attire, let alone singing to such tunes. He felt a sense of relief when she finally confessed that she was joking. For a moment, he had wondered whether he had completely miss-read his fellow trainee. For a wild moment his imagination had pictured her like some kind of muggle superhero, ‘healer by day, country western extraordinaire by night.’ “Well… I will confess I am glad to hear it. I was wondering if I would have to check your sanity for a moment” he poked his tongue out teasingly. “You know I can’t imagine you drunk.” He admitted suddenly. While this may have been one of the few moments the two had spent time together, outside of work hours, he was still having some difficulty picturing her drinking. He wasn’t certain if it was the professional persona that she always seemed to wear during work hours or if it was that he had a habit of perceiving everyone as completely rigid, innocent until proven guilty (if you like). An ironic trait considering how much he found himself drinking these days. “Honestly, I am with you there… I am seriously the worst singer in the world. My singing is so bad that I’m pretty sure it’s a crime worthy of Azkaban.” With a small laugh, Mike patted her in mock sympathy. “It’s okay, he’s not worth it… But… word around the ward is a fair few people have planted themselves on him.” As he spoke he mocked a serious ‘it’s for the best’ tone of voice. “But don’t worry… there’s plenty more benches in the hospital.” He stated teasingly, as they continued their winding journey towards the cafeteria. Mike knew all too well the shifts that Charlotte was referring too. When someone said ‘morning shift’ at St Mungo’s they weren’t exactly referring to a relaxing 9 to 5 job. Instead, the staff usually started at about 1:30 in the morning and worked until 1 or 2 pm. Personally, Mike found that term ‘graveyard shift’ much more fitting as it was always these shifts where something unexpected and often saddening occurred. “Me personally, I was lucky enough to get access to the specialist staff room so generally I nap in there.” As the two rounded the corner a delicious and powerful aroma caught his nostrils, sending his empty stomach into fits of desperation. Now that the adrenaline of work had subsided he was noticing that horrible sensation of lack of food. He wasn’t sure if it was for this reason that the food smelt particularly delicious or if that meant there was a fresh batch of food simmering away longingly waiting for Mike to devour it. When Mike first started working at St Mungo’s he told himself that he would not eat at the cafeteria. Mainly because he believed that spending so much time in the hospital would be depressing. However, there were times when the concept of going any further than the cafeteria to eat food was just too much. He had never had a truly terrible experience there though, but he had to admit there were definitely times when the food was sub-par. Although he had heard of times from employees where the food was so average that it made staff members physically sick… Apparently that hadn’t happened for years, not since they changed the staff over. “Oh yeah? I guess hell hath no fury like a woman without her favourite sandwich?” He teased her childishly, before upping his stride slightly so he could go examine the selection of food. The excitement over getting to eat reminding him of the times when he was little and his parents permitted him to visit a candy store. The cafeteria on the 4th floor small in comparison to the main cafeteria and the décor wasn’t exactly much to look at. Room was big enough to hold five small tables, all of which were painted aqua with multiple lime green stools neatly arranged around them. He was relieved to see that it was deserted at the moment. Usually, at this time of night (straight after shift change) the cafeteria would be crowded as everyone finishing headed over for dinner and/or refreshments. He moved slowly towards the counter, examining each dish carefully and was surprised (if not relieved) to see that there was a large assortment of rather fresh looking hot meals. After a moments hesitation he decided on an unusual looking vegetarian curry called Dal Palak with rice, and the largest coffee they served. He paid, and took shuffled to a nearby seat while he waited for Charlotte to join him.

Charrolette | 852| I’ll fight YOU

[Deleted]

“Why is it so hard to picture me drinking?” She asked as she glanced over at him, one brow quirked. “I’m a human being! I’m allowed to imbibe a little drink sometimes. With this job, I find that I need it more than I would have anywhere else.” It was the truth. This job was so stressful and placed so much responsibility on your head, she had seen a lot of people turn to drinking upon starting work here. She was now one of them. She didn’t drink too frequently-- (usually only on Friday nights, and only for fun with Iris)-- but she had started. When she was younger she used to be a lot more uptight, saying she would never start in the first place. Boy had she been wrong! “Your singing is that dreadful?” She turned her eyes back towards him and grinned. “I’m going to have to try to get you to go out with me sometime, and get you smashed enough to sing. I seriously want to hear what the worst singer in the world sounds like, Meical.” She hadn’t expected him to even admit to something like that. Not everyone liked to admit to their faults, but Charlotte wasn’t one of those people. If there was something she fell short on, she was going to admit to it. Sometimes it was harder to get her to the point of actually saying it aloud, but she at least said it in her head where no one could hear. “I should definitely get you to sing country!” She joked. “You get to nap in there!?” She asked him and turned wide, jealous eyes upon him. “Ugh! Here I am, sleeping on benches and you get to rest in the specialist room. Seriously, Meical, you lucky bugger, how did you get access to that?” She almost felt like reaching out and playfully shoving him, but she wasn’t close enough to know how he’d take that. All of her friends would realize she meant no harm behind it, but she hadn’t had a chance to speak with him often enough to know how he would react. They were both in different sections of Spell Damage and therefore didn’t spend a lot of time around each other. Even when she had been a fourth year and he a seventh, he’d been in Ravenclaw and she’d rarely seen him then either. Or even really noticed him, for that matter. Charlotte almost felt like crying, she was just that hungry and everything smelt so good. She probably really would cry if it turned out they had just reheated things. Bad food was not allowed to smell that good! Ever! She increased her pace to trail along behind Meical, entering the cafeteria a few moments after him. The smell was even stronger in here and it hit her almost like a fist, twisting in her stomach and making her sigh. She had to admit to herself that at this moment she would eat anything, even if it wasn’t the sandwich she was craving. She’d just be happy to be getting some nourishment into her system and not feel like she was hollowed out from the inside. Her eyes raked over the assortment of food. Yes, half of it was reheated, but there were some fresher courses set out on the line! She nearly crowed with joy when she spotted the sandwich from earlier, made maybe only an hour previous. Not exactly super fresh, but good enough to be eaten! She picked it up and placed it on her tray, then grabbed a water before going to pay. She shuffled through her pockets to get the correct amount of change, thanked the cashier, and walked towards Meical with a grin on her face. “Look what I got,” she said in delight as she plopped down in the seat across from him. “My sandwich! Maybe I won’t kill the guy who dragged me away from it earlier.” She picked it up and took a bite, chewing it over thoughtfully. When she swallowed, she said, “Yeah, it tastes great. I won’t hurt the poor bloke.” Glancing at the food Meical had on his plate, she raised a brow. “How’s your... what is that, anyway?” She was honestly not a very adventurous eater, so she had no idea. She usually just stuck with the same things over and over, rather than rocking the boat too hard.

Meical | 746 | You WISH you could fight me!