Dora was alright... but not really. She was faking it. Faking it until she was okay again. She was still in her stupid one sleeved uniform thing because moving up the stairs to her dorm was not a thing that she wanted to do. Or could do at the moment.

But it was funny the way rage worked sometimes, wasn't it? Not long after the girl had sat down in one of the cherry chairs did her brain start to replay the scenario she had just faced. It had cracked her. She knew that. And she was not ashamed to care so deeply for someone. The fact that it was used against her didn't bother her as much as the real reason for her rage. The real reason was that they had put her sister in a cage and let her freeze NEARLY to death. In a cage. Frozen. Like an animal.

With a renewed burst of energy, one that she hadn't expected, the girl rose from her seat and immediately picked it up... and commenced to smashing it repeatedly on the ground. Over and over and over until there was nothing but small chunks left. The tears had started falling again as she began to stomp the remnants of that chair. And didn't give a damn who the hell saw her.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Erindipity

Dora was alright... but not really. She was faking it. Faking it until she was okay again. She was still in her stupid one sleeved uniform thing because moving up the stairs to her dorm was not a thing that she wanted to do. Or could do at the moment.

But it was funny the way rage worked sometimes, wasn't it? Not long after the girl had sat down in one of the cherry chairs did her brain start to replay the scenario she had just faced. It had cracked her. She knew that. And she was not ashamed to care so deeply for someone. The fact that it was used against her didn't bother her as much as the real reason for her rage. The real reason was that they had put her sister in a cage and let her freeze NEARLY to death. In a cage. Frozen. Like an animal.

With a renewed burst of energy, one that she hadn't expected, the girl rose from her seat and immediately picked it up... and commenced to smashing it repeatedly on the ground. Over and over and over until there was nothing but small chunks left. The tears had started falling again as she began to stomp the remnants of that chair. And didn't give a damn who the hell saw her.

Sometimes the Gryffindor room was on fire or exploding somewhere or there were fireworks (which was more or less the same thing).

Other times it was the sound of abused furniture filling the room. Levi stood up from his spot by the fire where he was once again staring at absolutely nothing, stewing away in his own anger. He watched, silent, as Dora Umbridge took her anger out on one of Marchand's fancy chairs. His head tilted to one side eyeing the girl and the mess and what appeared to be tears.

Dora was awfully distracted doing her thing. Leaving was a possibility, still.

Instead he marched towards the entrance of the conference room and yanked the door open. "You could continue smashing what's left of the study area--" Which was still quite a fair bit! Sure by the time she was done working out her emotions there would be nowhere left to properly study, probably. But it wasn't like Gryffindors spent an awful time doing that in the common room of all places, anyway. They knew better. "--or we can head in and talk it out." He was a terribly good listener, mostly because he was a privacy hoarder and total garbage at talking meaningfully about himself. But.

It also helped a lot that he knew, maybe, what was up with his fellow sixth year. More than that, he could relate.

"Alternatively, I could just help you and take care of some of the chairs myself. I have been meaning to perfect defodio."

Dora was sure there was some noise escaping not only because of the smashing, but grunts of exertion as she did said smashing. No sobs, though. She was keeping that in right now. For the moment. Sheesh. How had she let her emotions get the best of her? And still was doing so...

She only stopped when she saw Levi walk right past her and push open the conference room door. Her chest heaved as she sucked in breathe. Sure she was making a spectacle of herself right now, but she didn't think she cared. Not at the moment.

Finally sucking in a few calming gulps of air she started to move toward the conference room and past her housemate. "I was only going to break the one. And I intended to fix it, " she said with a shake of her curls.

And yes they could talk. She needed to talk to someone who understood and the girl was pretty sure that everyone who had completed the last task would. "But I can help you perfect that later."

Dora was making sounds that reminded him, vaguely, of a wounded animal. Which Levi supposed made complete sense; as far as he was concerned, whatever trust or confidence he'd had on his professors had been shattered. And betrayal didn't feel all that great, if he was being honest.

"Or," He said, a little flat, "you could just leave what's left of it there for someone else to fix."

Stiffly, he shrugged. There were fifth years around--a lot of them--that would no doubt appreciate the additional practice for their Charms practical OWL. "Think of it as a public service or whatever."

He motioned for her to go in. "Ladies first."

Dora moved on past and into the room, but turned to look back at the chair. "Well I'll be sure to add a few more to it before we leave, " she said with a sneer. Not directed at Levi, of course, but at the chair itself. As if IT had been the thing that offended her. She would be lying if she said that hadn't felt amazing. Because it totally had.

Motioning for her housemate to close the door, she moved to perch on the edge of one of the chairs inside the conference room. This probably wasn't what their Head of House had intended the room to be used for, but Dora cared not. Not even a sliver.

"Are you alright? " First things first. Her eyes moved over the boy as if looking for some sign of physical injury, although she was sure there would be none.

Levi shot the remains of the chair one last look before letting himself into the room and closing the door behind him. Like Dora, he had little use for one of the chairs and instead chose to lean against the wall. It was better this way. The challenge had left him not just angry, but also rattled--on edge, and ready to either bolt or pounce. He was unclear which one was it, if not all of them. But now that he'd been standing up the prospect of sitting down was quite unappealing so he folded his arms across his chest and watched Dora perch herself on the edge of her own chair of choice.

Then he spoke, his usual easy tone rather clipped, his shoulders visibly stiff. "I think I have been better." Remarkably so. "I--have no words, really." His hands balled up into fists for a moment before letting go. "I'd ask you the same but, uh, the answer is quite obvious, I think."

Dora totally understood this. Having been better was a thing. For sure. Personally, she felt like lighting the entire room on fire and roasting marshmallows, but that would likely equal expulsion... and she wasn't sure she would like that. University needed to happen and having EXPULSION on her permanent record was likely to get her rejected.

Uni. Scholarships. UGH. Her brain snapped back to the current situation and the girl pulled her feet up on the chair and wrapped her arms around her knees. She was cold and exhausted still. "They had her in a cage and it was because of me," she said quietly. That was the major issue at hand here, for her anyway. Sam was great at dealing with the cold... she had to be given the way she grew up, but cold enough to be frozen... that was something new. "Brent Westwood beat me," she added at the last. A FIFTH year had beaten her.

How was that possible?

"That's not true."

A useless thing to say, to be sure, and one he knew would mean little to Dora right now but it was true, anyway. Logically, he knew it. Practically, well--it wasn't like he was feeling any different. If he hadn't been chosen by the book, if he hadn't agreed to participate in the IMPS, his mother would have never been touched.

But then, it wasn't like when he'd consented to be a competitor he'd also agreed to letting his loved ones pay for his choice, too. No one had ever said his mother would be subjected to something that could potentially have long term effects on her. He'd read enough to know that family members in danger for this sort of tournaments wasn't unheard of; it had happened in one of the triward tournaments. But not to the level of danger his mother and everyone else's loved ones had been subjected to.

For one, he was pretty sure those people had been sound asleep.

He rubbed his hands down his face. "I don't think Brent Westwood beat you." And to be clear, Levi had nothing against the Slytherin boy. "I think--I think we don't know what exactly they're looking for, it's just--I'll be honest, I don't know how I made it. I was sure I was out and I wasn't even--I don't think I'd have even minded, much."