Knowing Who You Are, Briony Prosser Options

[Alice Bogswead]

She wasn't the only one. Several witches and wizards had grown up under the impression that they were muggle-borns... but Alice, to think that her father, who hated magic more than anything else in the entire world, was a half-blood squib... it didn't seem real. Because that... that made her a half-blood, too. As she read the papers, it all seemed to come together. Alice was a natural at witchcraft, and apparently, so was her uncle. The man she hadn't seen since she was a toddler. The man who magically disappeared from her family. The Gryffindor Quidditch Player for the English National Team.

Alice, normally described as composed, arrogant and ignorant, used every bit of her power to remain in control of her body. Her eyes were getting warmer, and her hands were shaking. Realizing she could move no further, she ran into the first empty room at her disposal. Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. The second the door shut behind her, the warmth around her eyes dissolved into small drops of saltwater that slipped down her cheeks. The looked at herself in the mirror. She was crying. Her eyes were quickly growing more and more pink. She turned on the water and splashed her face in water, looking up. This was her, who she was. She knew now.

The girl crouched down by the wall. Her parents had even lied to her when asked about it. She knew... she knew... why did she have to know? Had it not been for the fact that her father thought she was a squib like himself, he would have adopted her away as a toddler. But she wasn't a squib. She was his daughter and a witch.

A disappointment.

[Briony Prosser]

Briony hadn’t been feeling well. She’d been a little downcast ever since the Quidditch game, not wanting to have to explain to all her team why they’d lost or answer the questions from her fellow housemates wanting to make sure that they were all training properly. And most of all she hadn’t wanted to answer the owl from her parents enquiring about the outcome of her match. They’d been so proud when their daughter had been made captain, especially her father, and she was afraid they would be sorely disappointed if she had to announce her loss. But it was inevitable and she’d sent the bird off that morning with a quick response. Her stomach had been in a knot ever since.

She’d made her way to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom after Transfiguration, knowing that there was a pretty good chance it would be empty, and had intentionally left class with Morgan and Aaron so that they couldn’t follow her in. She leaned against the pillar of sinks in the middle of the cool room, hoping that Myrtle wasn’t about to emerge from one of the toilets. A couple of deep breaths and Briony finally opened her eyes. She wasn’t alone.

“Are you crying?” Briony blinked at the small girl curled up on the floor. “Get up, it’s dirty,” she pulled a face at the state of the floor, “You know this place floods all the time, right?” she had honestly been surprised that the flood had been dry when she’d made her way in that morning! “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Briony wasn’t just going to let a little girl sit around with an injury. After her broken ankle from a bludger that weekend, she knew that physical pain could be very difficult to cope with, as strong a person as you might be.

[Alice Bogswead]

At the sound of someone entering the bathroom, Alice had done her best to dry her tears, but her breathing and sobs were still giving her away. "I'm not crying," Alice hissed between her teeth as she turned away from the girl. Company was the last thing she needed at the moment. And having this... girl...- Alice turned around to see who had spoken, and her swollen eyes widened ever so slightly.

"You're Briony Prosser, aren't you? Third year, captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team!" Of course Alice knew who this girl was. Becoming captain in her third year was quite a feat. Not one accomplished by many. This instantly made Alice respect the girl somewhat due to her marvelous accomplishments. In a matter of seconds, she had picked herself up from the floor hitting her robes to remove some of the dust.

"What are you doing here? Nobody comes here." She muttered and sniffed quickly. Christmas was coming up, and the only thing she knew was that she would not be going home this time. No way. Tears started gathering in her eyes again and she wiped them off with her robes.

[Briony Prosser]

Briony raised her eyebrows when the small, blonde girl seemed to know who she was immediately. “Yeah, that’s me,” she wondered if this was one of the new recruits to the Ravenclaw team, her days had been so busy preparing for the first Quidditch match that she’d barely bothered to wonder until now. “I… don’t know who you are. But if you’re not crying you’re doing a very good job of looking like you are,” she flattened her hair with a deep breath. She’d come here for privacy and some time to think and had been met with a bumbling first year. Just perfect.

As long as it didn’t seem as if the girl was brutally injured, then Briony didn’t think there was much reason for her to cry. She’d never experienced the kind of emotional pain that might send one to tears. In fact she’d led quite a sheltered life, though she would hardly realise it. Crying was for the weak or injured. Pain was the only excuse.

The Hufflepuff sighed, “I just… really needed to wash my hands,” she lied quickly. She didn’t need to go baring her soul to some girl she didn’t know, “I just had Potions so…” she said with a shrug before looking at the blonde again. “Now you never told me what was wrong. Come on, I’m curious now. It can’t be all that bad…”

Because sobbing on the dirty floor of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom was just about as low as you could get.

[Alice Bogswead]

“Right, excuse me," Alice let out and went up to meet the girl. "My name is Alice Bogswead. Ravenclaw. First Year." She dried off the last of the tears on her cheek. Really now, she should be stronger than this! Jace would be so disappointed with her if she couldn't even hold herself together! Alice blew a strand of hair out of her face and rubbed her left shoulder with her right hand.

"I told you, nothing is wrong it's just my stupid self overreacting." Really now, how did you react when you found out your parents didn't really want you anymore? Something about the way Briony was acting made Alice think of her as an older sister. The Hufflepuff spoke to her in a way most people didn't. It wasn't exactly normal for Alice... perhaps she just didn't know how much of a jerk people thought Alice to be.

She grabbed some soap to scrub off her hands. Amazing, no one used this bathroom, but it was still fully supplied with this stuff. Moaning Myrtle's fault, no doubt. Who was that, anyway? Alice let the water, cold- even though she was going for warm -grace over her pale hands. In doing so she carefully looked over Briony's foot. "How's your ankle?" she asked. She had seen the bludger hit her during the match. It looked painful. Alice had been a beater herself, so she knew.

[Briony Prosser]

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Alice’s assertion that there was absolutely nothing wrong. People didn’t just spend their time sobbing unless they were Payton or Georgie. Perhaps Alice was another one of the teary-eyes, blithering breed of girls. The kind of girls that Briony usually had no time for. “You’re obviously over-emotional then,” Briony stated matter-of-factly, “Perhaps you should go to the Hospital Wing for a Calming Draught…” seriously, if this girl was being sent into the throes of hysterics for no particular reason then she needed some serious help. But Briony wouldn’t be the one to give it to her. Compassion had never been her strong point.

“My ankle’s fine, thank you,” she said, rolling it around once in the air for good measure. She hadn’t needed treatment in the Hospital Wing, thank goodness, only rested it luxuriously in the common room while she tried to order people to get things from the kitchen for her. The demands hadn’t been particularly well received in Hufflepuff house, especially since their new captain’s injury wasn’t even the result of a heroic win. She’d just taken a bludger to the gut in the last few minutes of the match.

To worsen matters, it had been sent by a first-year.

Briony watched Alice washing her hands, “But don’t change the subject. Now people will worry I’ve been bullying you or something if you leave here in tears,” the Hufflepuff wasn’t entirely sure if this was true, but perhaps the guilt would play on Alice, “So is your little ‘moment’ over with?” she didn’t know why she was bothering to help this girl. But it was better than the alternative of wandering the corridors and suffering the chance of being approached by someone with questions about Quidditch at any time.

[Alice Bogswead]

"You're right," Alice said and patted some dust off the shoulder of her robe. "I'm over-emotional." Really now, that was probably the farthest from the truth one could ever get. Most people considered Alice to be under-emotional. Too introverted.

Alice looked into the mirror. Her reflection, partly covered with a layer of rust, showed her pale face and blue eyes regaining some color. Good... this was good. She was looking better now. "Family issue," she replied confidently and turned to face the older Hufflepuff, then instinctively glanced to the side. She didn't want to tell Briony this. Not really. It was personal. Off-limits. Unnecessary. "I'm muggle-born. Always have been, always will be. I was raised as one, and I see no reason to change that perception of myself."

Alice walked past Briony and stepped up to the door, to the exit, then carefully lowered her chin again. "My parents don't want me. They... didn't anyway, probably still don't." She bit her lower lip. Had they known she was a witch at birth, they would have had her adopted by her missing uncle. How ironic. "Christmas will be here soon..." she said, referring to winter break. "Don't reckon I'll be going home this time."

[Briony Prosser]

These grand gestures of emotion weren’t things that Briony was used to. Her parents, particularly her mother, were both quite private people and the Hufflepuff supposed it must have rubbed off on her too. She’d never had those mother-daughter chats over hot chocolate and marshmallows about boys or whatever else those pairs talked about. So, she couldn’t deny that Alice’s outward display of her trauma was something that she didn’t know how to deal with very well.

Should she have offered a tissue or perhaps even a hug? The thought of the latter almost made her cringe. While Briony was considering this, Alice had begun to clear up a little. She no longer looked as if she’d just been sobbing her eyes out. The corners of her eyes had changed from an agitated red to their normal state, and she looked almost presentable again. “You don’t have to tell me,” Briony sighed. Even she could tell that Alice was uncomfortable.

She nodded awkwardly while Alice explained what was wrong. “I’m sure that’s not true,” she managed eventually, “I’ve never met a parent who didn’t want their child,” admittedly, she didn’t know many parents and most of her knowledge came from magazines and trashy pre-teen books about Veelas and Werewolves. “You should speak to your parents. I’m sure they’d want you to go home,” she said, brushing droplets of water off the pleat of her skirt.

“And if it comes to the worst, I’ve heard very good things about Hogwarts’ Christmas Lunch,” she tried to smile at the girl before pushing the door of the bathroom open.