┌───── ･☆☽･ ─────┐ 𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕙 𝟙 𝟡 𝟡 𝟞 ━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━ "how on earth did this happen?"
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Rosalie was headed down one of the secluded corridors of the castle. Far from prying eyes and ears, she was consumed in a transfiguration book McGonagall had assigned when she felt her body collide into a firm figure.
Rosalie too intrigued by the spell book she'd been given earlier in the day, barely registered the incoming impact through the tip of her ancient parchment pages. Only the awkward pain of walking into a human wall remained.
"Ah, watch it." The figure groaned, as though Rosalie had caused him severe pain.
Though the figure barely bothered to glance at Rosalie; much too distracted with trying to find something or someone.
Rosalie rolled her eyes, pushing past him without even a glance. The remnants of her most recent fight with her brother still brewing beneath the surface. She couldn't believe he'd banned her from playing quidditch. . .
She barely got a full stride before he abruptly called after her. "Wait!"
Turning on her heel, she was ready to finally give someone a piece of her mind. Yet, when Montague first came into view, Rosalie barely recognised him.
Rosalie felt her heart fall through her chest at the sight of him; his face was more purple than its usual milky white.
His left eye was swollen, he couldn't see a thing out of it and he won't for a while yet. His face still bears congealed blood and his quidditch robes are an utter mess of dirt and sand.
With another slow, steady step forward, he tried to say her name. His cracked lips failed at the first syllable, but he didn't need to, she was already on her feet running back towards him.
Her precious spellbook now lay discarded on the stone floor. "Oh, Graham are you alright? What on earth happened to you?" All previous anger was forgotten, as only concern now consumed her cerulean orbs.
"Bludger," He mumbled out, his jaw fractured by what had to be a rouge bludger; some cruel trick from a student in another house perhaps.
Horrible, but not unlikely. After all, they weren't the most likeable team at Hogwarts.
"Graham, we need to get you to the infirmary!" Rosalie urged, tentatively inspecting the damage to his swollen face. Her fingertips gently grazed the open wound and the increasing number of bruises appearing on his face.
