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Edward Borage

Dried vs Fresh

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Edward Borage

Dawn was only just breaking as Edward stealthily made his way out of the Slytherin common room with his satchel slung over his shoulder and a crumpled envelope clutched tightly in his hand. The detour to get some toast wasn’t hampered by crowds of students and the Great Hall was practically empty because who, really, got up at dawn on a Saturday unless they had to? Saturday was the day you lazed around or watched Quidditch or ate sweets, it wasn’t a day you got up early and this made it the best day to get things you didn’t want others to see done.

 

By the time he got to the lake’s edge, the sky had properly given way to dawn though it was rather a somber one and foggy too, making it even less likely that his plan would be easily spotted. Edward felt the rush-tingle of excitement and nerves flood through him when he found the perfect spot on the shore of the lake. It would be easy to identify as there was a good pile of deadwood on the small gravel beach and a nice smooth rock to sit on; it rather left him wondering just how many bottoms it took to make it smooth, which also worked as a great distraction from the steadily growing nerves.

 

Edward worked methodically through the contents of his satchel, setting aside a plastic clipboard, a waterproof pencil, several sheets of laminated paper and his wand. The toast was like cardboard and stuck in his throat so he gave the idea of breakfast up as a bad job. Washing the clogged mess down with a bottle of pumpkin juice, he scanned a book for the umpteenth time and eyed the envelope warily.  He swallowed thickly and his hands shook as he carefully placed the half-empty bottle down on the rock. An unbidden hand scrubbed at the back of his neck before moving to fumble with the clasp of his cloak. It took several attempts before he was able to shrug out of it and lay it neatly over the rock where it would be ready for him at the end of this escapade. Dressed only in swim trunks, Edward shivered violently as the cold air hit him hard but it was time to forget the risks he was taking, put his nerves aside and just get on with the task at hand. Kicking off his shoes was easier but strapping his knife to his thigh took ages and he was reluctant to holster his wand. Instead he assembled the clipboard to hold the pages and the pencil giving him one last chance to back out. 

 

But the envelope beckoned silently, urging him on and he fumbled it open, taking the contents into his hand, carrying it with him to the edge of the lake. Under one arm he clutched his clipboard, his wand tucked behind his ear where he would grab it as soon as he’d dealt with the powder.  It was crumbly and dry and he stared at it in mild revulsion before shoving the fist-full of powder into his mouth, working hard to swallow it down. It tasted foul and he completely freaked out when it took his breath away.

 

Edward had been expecting it but suddenly being unable to breathe woke his lizard brain and he plunged into the cold waters of the lake, fumbling and missing his grip on his wand, the clipboard also floating free as he struggled with his body, the elements and the aquatic environment he was not prepared to deal with.

 

This was bad!

 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go!

 

Dear Merlin...

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Fenella Campbell

Surely by now all the second years had seen and understood that Fenella liked to run. She was always up the front of the pack when they ran in DADA class and there were others that had witnessed her managing to find running tracks around the castle and grounds when students had to be travelling in pairs or indoors. Why running you may ask? Because swimming was out of the question on these cool mornings, even for a wee Scottish lass like herself. Though she knew it was silly to try swimming in the lake (and she definitely didn’t fancy it after the lesson on Grindylows) she did like to be near the water, it reminded her of home on the Isle of Skye. 

 

The plan was to run past the greenhouses over to the Quidditch pitch, do a couple laps, then head back to the castle via a stop at lakefront to skim some stones or spot the giant squid. Conveniently (or perhaps not so) she’d noticed someone by the lake already  ... and that someone was now taking their clothes off! Oh dear! She could call out to them but even so the distance was far and she wasn’t sure her voice would carry, no her run would have to take a detour as she turned in the direction of the lake and the nearly naked boy (she could see it was a boy now). 

 

“Hey!” Fenella called as she got closer to the lake. “Hey! Don’t swim in there!” She could see that the boy was in swim trunks and on the edge of the water. She kept running. “Hey Borage, is that you?” She started to slow down a little and was probably only 50 metres out when it was confirmed that yes, it was Edward. Oh good! He was usually quite level headed and would surely heed her advice. 

 

Or not.

 

Fenella hadn’t noticed the packet that had been emptied and was now on the ground where he had stood - all she saw was her friend drop in to the water. The contents of his arms floated around where he had disappeared. What if a Grindylow had got him? Or a Kelpie? Or a real mermaid and not the kind like Ariel?

 

”Borage!” 

“EDWARD!”

 

She called out his name, hoping he would hear. She looked around - it was too early for anyone else to be out and about just yet, which meant they were alone. In a split second she knew what to do. Fenella undressed from her bulky outer layers - hoodie, scarf, shoes, all gone - and stepped into the water. First two steps a little tentative but the coldness urged her on, reminding her that her classmate was currently drowning. And then she dived on in, hoping she would be able to find him and help him.

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Edward Borage

‘Flack!’ 

 

The dried gillyweed hadn’t worked! 

 

Hacking his lungs up as he plunged into the water made that clear too!

 

Water poured into his stomach, possibly into his lungs and he realised that he had screwed up big time.

 

Floundering Edward found it impossible to regain his feet. His lungs were burning and he was just realising that this was going to be the end. That he wouldn’t live to be tormented by the twins. 

 

Then a groping hand appeared and he grasped it for dear life. 

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Pine Tree

Going outside was not something that Pine did a lot these days, he was getting better at it. Still there were moments that he remembered things, or pretended to know what happened that night just over a year ago. It was something that he didn’t like but it was something that he wasn’t able to help. His brain would think things all the time and it was just something that he disliked. Though, today he was going to attempted to go outside on his own and see how it was going to work out for him. 

 

Looking around, it was day light and he wasn’t a wolf. So there shouldn’t be anything that was out there that would be able to attack him and turn him into something else. At least that was his plan at this moment. Pine didn’t want something to just attack him and change him into something else. He didn’t like being a werewolf, but what was he to do about it at this moment. Nothing. He was stuck like his the rest of his life. 

 

Walking around, Pine happened to go father out then he thought that he was going to, but then he heard a sound of someone that he knew and his face went towards the lake. Pine was standing there, stopped where he was trying to figure out what in the world was happening at this moment in time. 

 

Waling over there, he didn’t know what he was even supposed to do at all. 

 

“What is happening?” Pine asked, just trying to figure out something that was happening, anything. “Do you think he needs to go to the healer?” Pine knew Miss Lushia very well, ever month he was seeing her. It was kind of sad, and another thing that he hated about being a wold. He hated that he had to go to the wing all the time, he should just live there instead. 

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Fenella Campbell

They probably weren’t too deep but it was hard to tell because the water was so dark. She knew no one could hear but she flicked her wand around a half dozen times, sending out the revulsion jinx and hoping not to hit her friend with it, though in her mind what was a burn from a jet of hot water compared to having an arm or a leg bitten off by a Grindylow. 

 

Fenella felt a hand grab hers and she could see it was a human hand but not much else. She hoped it was Edward and not a zombie or some other weird magical creature designed to trick her but no time to worry about that now. She pulled the hand up as hard as she could and kicked her legs hard dragging them both to the surface. 

 

The relief she felt the moment the air hit her lungs was only brief as she looked at Edward. He didn’t look well at all. She wrapped one arm around his torso keeping his face above water and used her other arm to drag them to the shore. “Kick if you can,” she told him. They made it to where their feet could touch the ground and the Hufflepuff slung his arm around her shoulder and tried to help him stand. “Come on Edward, you can do it,” she encouraged him as she tried to hold him upright.

 

Pine Tree. That boy had the voice of an angel. An angel sent to rescue them. 

 

“Pine!” She cried out between her own heavy breathing (rescuing is a tough job after all) “Pine! Yes! A doctor. We need a doctor!” 

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Edward Borage

By the time he realised it might not have been a good idea to grab at a hand he didn’t recognise he was on the surface and never had the cold air of Scotland been so welcome! Words hit him but he couldn’t make out who was speaking nor exactly what he was supposed to be doing. His subconscious brain knew though and he did his best to help, kicking feebly along when he could get his muscles to work, hacking up a lung or three along the way - to say nothing of the water.

 

More words, positive sounding, voice still unfamiliar but getting slightly clearer, feet stumbling along mushy ground and then firmer. Harder coughing and spluttering and a name: Pine! The boy who was a wolf...Hogwarts...school...the lake...the girl who runs...Fenella!

 

Edward’s brain came back online as everything came flooding back, along with voice recognition of who owned the voice belonging to the hand, “You look really hot, pet.” 

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