Eclipse

Eclipse

Chapter One: Beginnings

Saturday

"Well, that was rather a waste of time, wasn't it?"

Rachael Taliesin turned in her chair and raised her eyebrows at her best friend's statement. Jemma Bemo shrugged. "Well, it was. There is not a single person in Ravenclaw who can sing. Although I will say that Morag McDougall ain't a bad yodeller."

Rachael tucked a strand of bright pink hair behind her ear. She had to admit - after a long day of auditioning - Ravenclaw was definitely not a musically talented house. "You know, yodelling could -"

"No." Jemma, leaning against a desk, cut her off. "Absolutely no yodelling. At least not for now. Not until we've got ourselves a singer."

"Hey, I've got it under control! And we'll find the singing geniuses that we're looking for. Just not in our house. I'll talk to Ginny Weasley and get her to put up a notice in Gryffindor tower. We'll do more auditions next Saturday. I'll check it's okay with Snape to use this dungeon again." Rachael stood up, stretched and yawned - it was well after midnight.

"We'll have to try Slytherin as well then, I suppose. Roger will be happy about that. So tell him to put a sign up in his common room, will you?"

"Yeah, I'll tell him. I still wish he could come help with the auditions. Damn N.E.W.Ts. Taking up all his time like that.."

"Are we even gonna bother trying Hufflepuff?" Jemma began to pack up her things into her book bag.

"Jem..."

"Alright, alright. But Hannah Abbot is gonna murder us when she finds out that someone is rivalling her idiot of a boyfriend and his friends." They left the dungeon and headed for the West Wing of the castle.

"Well someone has too. They suck."

"Too true, too true."

They arrived back in the Ravenclaw common room to find it empty, save one person. Luna Lovegood was sitting alone in front of the fireplace, humming to herself. She was always odd, but she looked even odder that evening as she was wearing her school cloak as a turban on her head.

"There's your singing genius." Rachael muttered in Jemma's ear.

Jemma grinned and they began climbing the girls' stairs to the fifth year dormitory. "You know, it's a shame that Luna didn't show up for auditions - her humming doesn't sound that bad."

***

Sunday

Harry Potter walked into the Gryffindor common room to find Ginny struggling to attach a small sign in the only free space at the top of the noticeboard.

"Need a hand, Gin?"

Ginny turned around, dazed. "What? Oh, Harry - thanks! I really can't get this sign to stick."

Harry tacked it up easily, as he was much taller than she was. "What's this all about then, anyway?"

"Oh, Rachael just asked me to put this up for her, that's all."

"Rachael? Who's that?"

Ginny shook her head in annoyance. "Honestly Harry, you're in your sixth year at Hogwarts now and you hardly know anyone here!"

"That's not true!" Harry shot back indignantly.

"Yes it is. Besides the other Gryffindors in your year, the members of the D.A. and Draco Malfoy, you don't know a single person's name!"

"There's plenty of other people that I know."

Ginny put her hands on her hips and smirked at him. "Really? Name someone."

"Er..." Harry racked his brains. "Pansy Parkinson!"

He shot Ginny a triumphant grin. Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Name one of her friends then."

Harry felt the grin slide of his face. He didn't have a clue. He'd gone to school with those girls for five years and he didn't know their names. They were just this gang that hung around Pansy, and Malfoy on occasion.

Ginny shot him a scathing look. "See, Harry. There are what, a few hundred students in this school and you would be able to name about fifteen of them. Did you ever think that maybe if you actually spoke to people, there mightn't be so many nasty whispers about you all the time? You're so self-absorbed sometimes."

And with that, Ginny flounced away to the other side of the room and sat down with a group of fifth years, none of whom, Harry realised, he knew the names of.

Ginny was angry at him now, and for some reason that felt worse than, say, when Hermione was angry with him. Then again, Hermione got angry with Harry quite regularly, but for Ginny to do it was unusual. It made him feel rather uneasy.

Attention Gryffindors: Can you sing? Well? If so, and you're interested in developing your skills, please contact Jemma Bemo or Rachael Taliesin, of Ravenclaw by Saturday.

Harry realised he was staring blankly at the sign that he had helped Ginny put up. He supposed he should really get to know the other students. But this sign didn't help him at all. Harry knew for a fact that he could definitely not sing. There had to be some activity he could get involved in...

***

A shadow fell on Draco's parchment. He looked up from the essay he was writing. Pansy was standing over him, a sickening smile fixed on her face.

"I thought you looked lonely, Draco." Her voice, as usual, was breathy and fluttery, and Draco was amused to realise that it reminded him very much of a certain ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He scratched the back of his neck and returned to his essay. He didn't have time for Pansy anymore. She was incredibly annoying and she wasn't pretty. Draco could not be bothered with any girl who wasn't good looking. Girls were only good for one thing, and that one thing was completely unwanted if the girl was ugly.

Pansy decided to ignore his lack of response and tried a different approach. "You know, there's a sign up on the noticeboard about a new band that's forming. I'm thinking of auditioning."

For some reason, this got Draco's attention. He'd known Pansy for years and he'd never known that she could play an instrument. "What, do you play guitar or something?"

Pansy shook her head in indignation. "No, silly. They're looking for a singer. I'm going to sing. I have quite a nice voice, if I do say so myself."

Draco smirked gleefully. Pansy's singing sounded like rabid Augureys mating. Watching that audition had the prospect of being the most fun he would have all year. And with his father in Azkaban and the gossip that was going around Hogwarts, there would be a good chance that Pansy's audition would be the only fun he'd be having that year.

He turned back to her. "Pansy, I'm going to come with you to your audition. You know, to... uh, show my support."

Pansy caught her breath and beamed at him. "Oh, Draco, that would be wonderful! I would have so much more confidence knowing that you were watching and that you cared! Thankyou!"

With that, she ran off to her friends sitting on the large green couch in the corner of the room. As Draco overheard her tell her friends how he would be supporting her singing aspirations, he smiled to himself and returned to his parchment.

***

Saturday

The snake stared at Cleo unblinkingly. She stared back at it, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what she should do. Snakes struck on sudden movement - she knew that. But she couldn't just stay there all day. She made up her mind and moved away. Quick as a flash, the snake lashed out towards her, fangs bared as it aimed for her neck. Thunk. It hit the glass and fell back down to the floor of the tank.

Cleo shook her head in amusement. It did that every time. She just hated seeing the snake repeatedly making the same mistake over and over again. She turned to the snake's owner, who was lounging on the bed next to her, fiddling with her necklace.

"Honestly Rachael, I don't know why you'd want to keep a snake. The turtle and lizard are alright, but a snake is so Slytherin."

Rachael looked up at her. "Firstly, it's snakes. I have three. Secondly, Poindexter is a gecko, not a lizard. And lastly, you're the one with a pet sock."

"Sock Man is not a pet. I just named him because I lost his partner, and I thought he was lonely."

Rachael nodded patronisingly. "Yes, because socks get oh so lonely..." She checked her watch. "Anyway, I've gotta go, my dear. The auditions start in an hour, and Roger and Jemma promised that they'd come and help me."

Cleo grinned and motioned for her roommate to leave the room. "Go then. Leave me be - I don't need you."

Rachael smirked at her. "Of course not, you've got Sock Man to keep you company."

She ducked, as a shrieking Cleo threw a pillow at her head.

***

"Dennis Creevey?"

The small boy grinned at her. "Yeah, that's me."

"What's that for?"

"What, this?" He pulled out a ukulele from under his cloak. "Well, I know you guys didn't specify one, but I thought maybe you'd be interested in a ukulele player."

Jemma couldn't help but smile as Rachael buried her head in her hands. Ignoring her friend's moment of despair, she turned back to Dennis. "I'm sorry Creevey, but we're really looking for a singer. Can you sing?"

"Yeah sure." He took a deep breath. "PLAY THAT FUNK-Y MUUUSIC, WHIIIIIIITEBOOOOOOOOOOY.... PLAY THAT FUNK-Y MUUUSIC RIIIIIIIIIIIIIGGGGGHHHHHHHTTTTTTTT......"

Jemma cut him off. "Uh, that's uh, very nice Creevey, but uh, you're not quite the sound that we're after."

Dennis saluted her. "That's okay. But if you ever need a ukulele player, don't forget who to call."

And with that, he walked out of the dungeon. Rachael looked up to the ceiling. "God help us."

She turned to Jemma. "Who's next?"

Jemma scanned the parchment in front of her. "Uh... Pansy Parkinson. Sixth year, Slytherin."

As she said this, a pug faced girl scurried into the room, lazily followed by a pale blonde boy. The girl turned to Jemma. "I hope you don't mind, that I bought Draco with me," she indicated to the boy behind her, who smirked in acknowledgement, "but he's supporting me."

Rachael leaned forward, interested. "You mean, he's singing too?"

The smirk on the boy's face was replaced with a look a disgust. "You're joking, right?" he drawled, "singing is for Nancy-boys and pansies." He turned to the girl, his voice dripping with amusement. "Hey, that really works for you, doesn't it?"

"Ahem." Jemma cleared her throat. "If you're not going to be singing, how about shutting the hell up?"

Draco scowled, and gracefully threw himself into a chair against the wall. He waved his hand disdainfully in the air. "My pardons, do continue then."

Jemma threw Rachael a look that plainly said, Slytherins. She turned back to Pansy. "Okay Parkinson, when you're ready."

Pansy took a deep breath and began to sing, her breathiness ringing through loud and clear. "Clllose your EYES, give me yourrr hhhand... DARH-LING. Dooo ya FEELLLL my heart beat-ting? Do you UN-DER-STAND? Do you FEELLLLL the sammmme? Am I only der-REAM-ming? Or IS THIS BURN-NING AN ET-ERN-AL FLAAAAAAAAAAME?"

Rachael turned to look at Jemma. She was cringing in what looked like pain at the horrible squawking coming from the Slytherin girl's mouth. Rachael flicked her glance over to the blonde boy. He looked positively delighted at the sight of his friend making an arse of herself. Rachael shook her head in disbelief. She turned to Pansy. "Uh, Parkinson?"

Pansy smiled sweetly at her. "Yes?"

"That was lovely - it really was," Rachael heard Jemma discretely snort in amusement, "but you're not quite the sound we're looking for. We need someone who can, uh..."

"Carry a tune?" the blonde boy interrupted her, smirking.

Rachael couldn't quite hide her smile at that comment. "Well, yeah, actually."

"Honestly Pansy," the boy drawled, "that was terrible. If you're going to try out for singing, you have to actually be able to sing, you know."

"Oh yeah?" Pansy drew herself up defensively, "Well, you can't exactly sing yourself, can you?"

"I can sing a lot better than you can!" he snarled at her.

"Go on then!"

The boy took a deep breath and belted out Pansy's song in an unflattering imitation of her own voice. He hit all the high notes with an screech and yet, somehow was completely in key.

Pansy, mortified, had already fled the room in tears. Rachael and Jemma both broke into applause. The boy turned around to them, startled. His surprise expression was quickly replaced with a look of smugness. "You liked, then?"

Rachael nodded. "What's your name?"

"Draco Malfoy."

"Well Malfoy, how about giving us a real audition? Sing something for us."

***

Monday

Ron and Harry were sitting down for breakfast in the Great Hall, which was noisier than usual that day. Harry was pouring himself a goblet of pumpkin juice when Hermione slid onto the bench beside him. "Did you hear?"

Ron turned to her. "Hear what?"

Hermione looked like she could barely contain her laughter. "About Malfoy. He's singing in a band."

"What?" Harry was so distracted he failed to realise that his goblet juice was flowing over, and pumpkin juice was spilling onto the table.

Hermione turned to him. "Yeah. I heard about it in the library when I was researching - oh, never mind that. You know those Ravenclaw girls who've been auditioning for a singer - or wait, maybe you don't know, you never notice-"

"OF COURSE I KNOW!" Harry replied testily, Ginny's words of a few days ago still fresh in his mind.

"Alright, alright, don't bite my head off. The two Ravenclaw girls - they're friends of Ginny's, mind you - have been auditioning for a singer for about three weeks, and no one knows how it happened, but for some reason Malfoy auditioned and apparently he's actually good."

Ron snorted. "Yeah right, as if Malfoy would be a good singer! He's probably just saying that he's a singer to get some attention from the girls."

"Well, it's working." Ginny joined them and indicated to the Slytherin table. "Take a look."

Ron, Harry and Hermione craned their necks to see a small crowd of girls bunched up where Malfoy was sitting.

"Smarmy git." Ron muttered.

No one spoke for a moment - they all just watched quietly as Ron viciously attacked his bacon.

Eventually Ron finished his bacon. "So," he turned to Ginny, "the Ravenclaw girls - one's Rachael Taliesin, right? The one who always has a different hair colour?"

"Right. It's bubblegum pink now. I like it, actually."

Hermione chimed in. "Yes. Surprisingly, pink suits her... green didn't though. Anyway, who's the other girl? I don't know her name."

"Oh that's Jemma Bemo." Ginny grinned. "They're both in my Transfiguration class. Absolute nutcases. Jemma does some crazy work with teapots."

Ron was glaring at Malfoy again. "What do we need a band for anyway?"

Ginny spoke with the air of a well-informed gossip. "Well, you know Brian Summers, in Hufflepuff?"

Harry shook his head. "No."

"Well, of course you wouldn't Harry," Ginny huffed, "you can't be bothered to know anyone."

Harry cringed and returned to his breakfast.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at this exchange and then nodded. "Yes. Summers is in that band that played at the Yule Ball last year, wasn't he?"

Ron grimaced. "I remember them - they were terrible."

"Absolutely awful." Ginny agreed, "So those two over there -" she inclined her head towards the two Ravenclaw girls, "decided to take matters into their own hands and never let it happen again by forming their own band. Jemma plays guitar really well and Rachael's a bass guitarist. So last year they got themselves a drummer-"

"Who?" Ron interrupted.

"Roger Taylor. Seventh year Slytherin. Know him? And no," Ginny turned to Harry, "I'm not asking you that, I know that you wouldn't know him."

Harry was slowly growing redder by the minute. Ron felt sorry for him. He turned to Ginny. "I don't know him either. Who is he?"

Ginny pointed to a scruffy boy with shaggy, dirty blonde hair who was talking to Malfoy at the Slytherin table. "That guy. He's going out with Rachael, and it was after he became the drummer. Apparently Jemma walked in on them in the music room."

Hermione look surprised. "Hogwarts doesn't have a music room."

"Room of Requirement. They've been using it as a music room since the beginning of term."

Harry was shocked. "What? I thought only the D.A. knew about that room!"

"Luna told them about it. She's roommates with them."

"Oh."

"So it's those three, and Malfoy singing. Oh, and Blaise Zabini in your year signed on yesterday as a second guitarist. According to Jemma, even though they weren't looking for another guitarist, he was so good that they couldn't turn him down."

Harry took in all this information, and tried to match all the names to faces. He wanted to impress Ginny. He didn't know why he wanted to - he just did. He was going to learn the name of every single person in the school if that's what it took. So Rachael Taliesin was the girl at the Ravenclaw table with bright pink hair (she'd be easy to remember), and Jemma Bemo was the dark haired girl sitting next to her. Roger Taylor was the guy sitting next to Malfoy, and... and... wait - which one of the Slytherin girls was Blaise?

"Erm, Gin?"

Ginny turned to Harry. "Yes, Harry?"

"Which one of the Slytherin girls is Blaise?"

At this, Ron snorted into his goblet and Hermione choked on her toast. Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Harry..."

"Yeah?"

"Blaise is a boy."

"Oh."

Ginny stood up and stormed off. Hermione smiled as she helped herself to some muffins. "Honestly Harry, you are completely and utterly hopeless."

***

Blaise sat on his four poster bed, lost in thought. He dearly hoped that maybe this was the start of something better. Ever since he first came to Hogwarts, he'd felt out of place. Not because he thought he was in the wrong house - he knew that he belonged in Slytherin. The green flame of Slytherin's ambition burned constantly in him. It was a force so strong that he knew it was going to cause him serious trouble one day. But for now, the fire kept a low profile, and lay dormant in his gut.

No - the problem was that he didn't really get on with the other Slytherins in his year. He usually spent his time in the company of Theodore Nott and Callisto Moon, but he didn't like them much. Nott was on the small side for a sixth year boy, but he was absolutely brutal to the younger kids - just last week he'd broken a third year's wrist because the kid wouldn't let him borrow his wand. Professor Snape had made an investigation, but everyone was rather 'hush hush' about it, and Nott didn't get caught.

Moon was worse.

Moon was the reason for the outbreak of Bundmyptheria amongst the Ravenclaws the previous June. It was a terrible disease, about fifty Ravenclaws all ended up in the hospital wing, some choking and unable to breathe, some vomiting blood, and others who fell unconscious for days on end. Dumbledore had the whole of Ravenclaw tower inspected for a Bundimun infestation. Meanwhile, Moon had whispered in Blaise's ear and told him how she had discretely been putting Bundimun secretion in the flagons of pumpkin juice that were sent to the Ravenclaw table. When Blaise asked her why, she told him how Bundimun essence would rot a person's insides, and how she thought it would be interesting to watch them all start to cough up blood.

Blaise still shivered about that. He just didn't fit in with those two. Nott had laughed when Moon told him what she'd done, and she would always watched gleefully whenever Nott beat a little kid into a bloody pulp. Blaise got on with Malfoy on occasion, but Malfoy was rather conceited, and that always got on Blaise's nerves.

But he'd be spending a lot more time with Malfoy now, Blaise thought. With that, he picked up his guitar and headed for the Room of Requirement.

***

"Wow, that's really nice."

Rachael looked up and noticed Hermione Granger eyeing her necklace. "Thanks, Hermione. It's a-"

"Nihonbashi crystal?"

Rachael grinned. "I should have known you'd know what it was, you bookworm."

Hermione sat down beside her. "Hey, you're in the library too."

"I'm waiting for Roger. It's not like I'm actually learning or something."

"Rachael! You're in your O.W.L year! This is not the year for that kind of attitude." Hermione frowned at her.

"Alright, alright."

"So where did you get it?" Hermione was leaning on one elbow, her eyes never leaving the necklace.

"My dad. He brought it back from Japan for me." Rachael eyes flicked over to the other end of the aisle. Roger was approaching, and Rachael stood up.

Hermione put her hand on her arm. "Rachael, I was wondering... would you lend me your necklace? Just for a couple of days?"

Due to the arrival of Roger, every coherent thought of Rachael's was gone and she nodded distractedly. "Sure," she said, undoing the clasp and handing the necklace over, "no problems. Toodles, Hermione."

"See you." As Rachael left the library, Hermione couldn't stop grinning, staring at the prize in her hand.

***

Jemma Bemo began to drum her fingers on the table. Trust those two, she thought to herself, first ever meeting and they're already twenty minutes late. Fine. She turned to the two Slytherin boys sitting with her. "We'll start without them."

Draco scowled. "It's a great start isn't it? Taylor told me that I had to be here by seven sharp and he's the one who's late! And I bet you anything that he's just off somewhere snogging Taliesin. You know I could be doing -"

He was interrupted as the door flung open and Roger and Rachael entered the room, flushed in the face and wearing rather rumpled uniforms.

"Sorry we're late," Roger said breezily, "a um... first year fell over and we had to uh... help her up." He flung himself into a chair and Rachael, grinning sheepishly at Jemma, sat in his lap.

"It's about bloody time!" Draco snarled at Roger. "And I know what you were really doing, Taylor, so don't bother trying to cover up."

Roger just smirked at him. Draco glared back. Blaise said nothing, but looked pointedly at Rachael and indicated to his own collar. Rachael looked down and hastily did up about five buttons on her blouse. Jemma rolled her eyes. "Moving on," she pressed, "I want to discuss exactly what everyone's separate goals for this group are. I know mine: Brian Summers and his friends must be destroyed."

Rachael nodded enthusiastically. "I agree. I've said it before and I'll say it again - they suck."

Roger interjected. "There's nothing wrong with a bit of su-"

"Shut it Roger." Rachael covered his mouth with her hand. "Jemma, continue."

Jemma started again. "As Rachael said, Summers and friends erm, aren't very good. The Ketchup Song must never be heard of again. They must never play for the school again. This is our mission."

She got a round of 'hear hears' from the other four. She smiled and continued.

"So this means we must be perfect by December, so that Dumbledore'll get us to play at this year's Yule Ball. I also want us to be able to play our own original songs, okay? So if you're into writing stuff, feel free to come up with as much as you want."

Blaise took initiative. "Shall we get started then?"

Roger reached for his drumsticks. "Yeah," he smirked at Draco again. "I want to hear Malfoy sing."

***

Wednesday

Draco strode down the hallway, immensely pleased with himself. They'd been rehearsing for a bit over a week now, and he knew that the others, even Roger, had been impressed with his performance that night. For the first time ever, Draco felt he had something worth being proud of. He knew that would come as a shock to most people - as he was really considered to be the most conceited student in the school - but the truth was, deep down, Draco had never felt that he had anything to be proud of.

His father (who had always been a complete arsehole) was now in jail and a renowned Death Eater; it was a well known fact that his mother was bulimic; his ex-house elf Dobby now kept short-sheeting his bed whenever he got the chance; Granger had beat him in every exam that they'd both ever taken; and Harry Potter had kicked his arse in every Quidditch game that they'd ever played. So for Draco, it was rather a nice change that people appreciated him.

He rounded the corner and saw someone walking up the corridor. He didn't know who she was, so he stayed quiet. He followed her for quite a while, as she was going in the same direction as he was, and, being a Malfoy, he occupied himself with watching her arse as she walked. Not that robes were ever that helpful for that kind of thing - they weren't exactly tight fitting clothes. Just as Draco was pondering over a way to abolish robes from the school uniform requirements, a figure began to emerge from the darkness at the other end of the corridor. As the figure drew closer, Draco recognised him to be Terrence Higgs, a fellow Slytherin and a fifth year. Draco stopped short and watched as Higgs recognised him, and made his way over.

Not really feeling like having a chat, Draco pretended to be completely absorbed in the portrait of Morris the Mortifying on the wall next to him. Higgs, however, only nodded at the older student in acknowledgement and instead headed towards the girl a few metres in front of Draco, who, Draco had suddenly noticed, was suddenly standing very still. Higgs grabbed her by the forearm and roughly dragged her over to a shadowy alcove out of the way. Draco continued to pretend to be studying the portrait, but all the time strained to hear what was going on.

"Well?" came the rough voice of Higgs.

"Well what?" the girl's voice snapped.

Draco froze. That voice was unmistakeable. It belonged to Ginny Weasley. In the darkness he hadn't noticed her distinguishing mop of red hair. Oh Lord. He'd been checking out Ginny Weasley's arse. Eurgh.

"Don't get smart with me!" Higgs' voice again. He sounded absolutely furious. "Do you have it?"

Weasley's voice came across strong and clear. "No I don't."

Whack. Draco spun his head around. He very much suspected that Higgs had just hit Weasley across the face. He cautiously edged over towards the alcove, trying not to look like he was nosing in on Higgs' business. He peered around the corner. Higgs' back was to him and he had shoved Weasley up against the wall. Weasley was glaring at him, and even in the dark, Draco could see the mark that was forming on her left cheek.

Draco cringed. He'd seen his father beat his mother too many times, and this kind of thing always made him feel slightly sick.

"Why not?" Higgs grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her away from the wall and then slammed her hard against it again.

Draco watched Weasley's face as she attempted to conceal the pain that must have been surging through her body. She snarled at Higgs. "Because - as I've told you before - do you really expect me to be doing you any favours?"

Higgs paused. Weasley closed her eyes and waited for what was coming. Thud. He belted her hard across the face again. Weasley's nose began to bleed heavily. "So," Higgs spoke menacingly, "you were saying?"

Weasley looked up at him, and spat blood into his face. Draco knew what was coming next and decided he wanted out. He turned and quietly walked away, trying to pretend that he didn't hear the loud crack... and the stifled sob that followed it.

***

It was well after eleven o'clock, and Enid Takan was the only person still in the Gryffindor common room, as it was a school night. She was chewing on her nails, as she always did when she was worried. She turned around suddenly at the sound of the Fat Lady's portrait swinging open.

Ginny scrambled in through the portrait, looking dazed and rather pale. Enid hurried over to her. "Ginny! Where have you been? You said you'd be back by nine and it's after eleven! You know we're not allowed out past nine o'clock! Why weren't you caught? What were you doing? How did you-"

"Enid, please," Ginny interrupted her, "I just-I just want to sleep."

Enid hesitated, noticing for the first time that Ginny's face looked rather swollen - as if she'd been stung by a bee. "Ginny, what happened to your face?"

Ginny looked startled. "What about my face? It should be fine! I used a healing-" she cut herself short, "I mean, um, I'm just tired... Enid, let's go to bed, please?"

Enid relented and began to ascend the girls' staircase. She paused when she realised her roommate wasn't following.

"Uh, Enid?" Ginny asked hesitantly.

"Mmm?"

"I kinda fell down tonight, and I uh... jarred my knee or something. Can you give me a hand up the stairs?"

As Enid helped her friend struggle up the stairs, she wondered when on Earth Ginny was going to tell her what was going on.