Time: 1:15 pm

Silence.

To some, it was something glorious. Something they wanted after having to deal with the noise of everyday life. Parents, teachers, overworked students. They all loved it."Peace and Quiet" they called it. It was something to relax in, apparently. It was supposed to allow you to stop, think, and take a deep breath before continuing your day. Apparently it was needed to retain sanity.

How could someone want silence?

Sitting on one of the beds of the infirmary in Hogwarts was Raven Whitman, staring off into space. Dressed in her usual casual outfit, her hat, classes, and heavy coat were all neatly placed on her bedside table. Legs dangling off the edge, her eyes gazed lifelessly out the window into the sky.

She hated this time. Just sitting and waiting for her potion to brew. For the medication to come and her life to be returned back to normal. For the silence to stop gnawing at her like a hungry animal, for the cheers and shouts and the sound of books slamming and quill scribbling to return. But she had to wait, and she hated waiting. She could wait for anything else, but not this. She was vulnerable, open for attack. Open for ridicule. People could talk behind her back and she'd never know it. Someone could be right behind her, wand at the ready, and they could shout "Avada Kedavra" at the top of their lungs, though a megaphone even, and she'd never see it coming. If there was one thing she hated, it was this time.

Being deaf sucked.

To be honest, she had her father to thank for this. The Waardenburg syndrome had come from him, after all. One of her eyes looking like a misty blue ceramic she could handle. The pale skin was perfectly fine. The bit of natural growing white hair was acceptable as well. But the total and complete lack of hearing was a bloody nightmare. Sure, now she was good at lip-reading, but nothing really made up for lack of sound. Luckily, her parents' connections had managed to get her a cure of some sort; she had to take it every week and a half, but it gave her something she wasn't even born with. However, this cure had only come along somewhat recently, around the time of her brother's death, so there was still some getting used to it. But it was worth it. It was all worth it.

So for the time being, she would sit there and wait. Wait for the silence to end.

It must have been the St. Mungo's volunteering still in her system that caused Ligeia to flirt in and out of the newly recommissioned Hospital Wing so frequently to see the progress that was done. Technically it was a new wing, not all the space from Darcy's fire had been reclaimed. There were signs of the burnt building around the hallway and entrance to the interior infirmary. Ligeia rather liked the poetic qualities of the situation: the Hospital Wing had suffered its own wounds, yet it was still able to heal.

For once Ligeia hoped for no more fires or melting floors. After the St. Mungo's attack she had found such things to be very distracting to the healing process.

And although the potions dungeons held most of the ingredients one ever needed for classes, a few medicative ingredients were stocked in higher quantities up here. This was what Ligeia was after when she swept in, expecting only staff about when she noticed a student in one of the beds.

"Oh, hello Raven." She had always appreciated someone that matched her pallor. When she didn't respond Ligeia knitted barely noticeable eyebrows and spoke again. "Hello? Raven?"

She moved closer to catch her eye. "What are you in for Raven...oh." Ligeia realized that Raven was in here for that potion that helped her hearing. The albino prefect considered that she should learn how to brew that.

"Shall I check on how that potion is doing?" Ligeia said with exaggerated lip movements. This probably wasn't helping. She motioned stirring a big cauldron and pointed to her ears.

Noticing some movement in the corner of her eye, Raven quickly turned to see Ligeria, whom she called either Liggy or Canterburgles. staring at her with a slightly concerned expression. Jumping slightly with surprise, she blinked for a moment while watching the Ravenclaw Prefect speak. It was clear she was putting effort into moving her mouth a bit more than usual, which meant she knew about the heterochromatic's disability. She wasn't surprised, really. While it wasn't exactly common knowledge, she was mostly sure that all of the teachers knew about it, and it was the prefect's job to watch over the other students, right? Her concern was both endearing and infuriating at the same time. The extra effort to make things easier (which actually made it a bit harder) for the deaf teen reminded her of her mother's own actions, which caused an unpleasant feeling to settle in her stomach.

“It's fine,” She could hear herself think the words, feel her mouth move, and fell the air travel through her larynx that made the sound of her voice. But she couldn't hear her own words, so she had no idea how they came out. Probably normal, though. “I'm patient.” O.K., so she was lying through her teeth. She really wanted that think to finish brewing. But it would take time. She had been sitting there for what... an hour and fifteen minutes? That left another fifteen on the potion, if her memory served her correctly.

“And please just talk normally,” Raven commented, folding her legs and resting her head in her hands before smiling slightly. “It's easier for me to read your lips when you just talk normally.” She scoffed at herself for a moment, staring at the bubbling black cauldron. “After all, I couldn't hear anything 'till the middle of fourth year, and I survived through school before that, right?” It's not like the teachers had given her a special treatment when she couldn't hear. In fact, she was sure half of them forgot most of the time, and they were only reminded when they asked her a question and her answer came out as half-garbled gibberish because she hadn't heard the proper way to pronounce words before. Which of course made Charms a freaking picnic With a nonchalant shrug, she quickly wanted to get the attention diverted away from her disability.

“Anyways, Canterblurgles,” She continued, talking a little quicker, slightly more standoffish than usual. “What brings you to the infirmary at this hour?”

"Oh, that's correct," Ligeia said. It was so easy, if you had all of your senses, to think people couldn't survive if they didn't have one of them. She admired Raven's plight even more when she admitted having survived half of her educational years through lip reading alone. That brought back memories. "I had thought at the time you preferred people not bothering you and you were suffering a lingering Babbling Jinx. But then you were crawling and climbing and jumping to whatever out of the way nook where we didn't see you."

"I'm here looking for some Sandalwood if I'm lucky." Ligeia gave one of her best dark-lipped, knowing smiles of some mysterious intrigue. "Up here it's used for the pleasing medicative aroma and use in soaps, although there's another use for it if the source is fresh enough. I'm getting close to that stage on a long project."

However, Ligeia could never pass up learning a new brew for long. She peered at the potion Raven was waiting for, rating the smell just under the dank must of the Sellaphix Apothecary on her lis of favored scents. "Do you know how to brew this? It looks very complicated." Thus irresistible for any Ravenclaw that liked a challenge.