In the life of Annie Enright, the phrase 'good day' was an oxymoron. Some days started off just fine, with plenty of sunlight and possibility and a hot, filling breakfast. That did not make the day good, however. It merely made it deceptive. There hadn't been much sunlight on this particular morning (though that wasn't an omen – lack of sunlight wasn't really an omen in Scotland), but the breakfast and the promise of possibility had both been present and accounted for. Class that day had even gone about as well as she could have expected, with her beloved, lifesaving flashcards coming to her rescue once again. They really were the loveliest, most perfectly portable, most comprehensive, self correcting, fully illustrated set of flash cards the world had ever known. It was only a matter of time before someone caught on that they were so wonderful – or at the very least caught on to her complete and utter reverence for them.

As expected, Annie's morning full of breakfast and possibility had all been a lie. As soon as she stepped out of her last class before lunch (clutching the note cards, of course – they were sacred) she heard sniggering coming from behind her, and before she could even turn around to see who was there, her cards were being levitated from her hands. They rose up, up, up like rectangular, two dimensional helium balloons – and then the magical connection that was keeping them there was severed, sending the whole stack raining to the stone like hunks of oversized confetti. Before long the entire corridor was covered in the loveliest, most perfectly portable, most comprehensive, self correcting, fully illustrated set of flash cards the world had ever known, and one very irritating set of boys had created a breeze to send them fluttering away from her. 

The sound that came out of Annie's mouth was something between a sigh, a whine, and a scoff, full of all of the frustration in the world but no words. Her face had crumpled as she looked at all of her hard work drifting down the hallway for anybody to step on. She turned to face the boys, looking about as helpless as a wet kitten, chomping hard on her bottom lip. “Why'd you do that?” she asked, her voice cracking and breaking more with each syllable, clearly on the verge of tears. “I just...” she broke off, unsure what she was even supposed to say. Frankly, she was more worried about her note cards than about them, but that didn't stop her heart from beating too fast in her chest as she looked at the fallen contingent lining the floor.

In conclusion, there really, really was no such thing as a 'good day.'

Roh was in a fairly good mood, with the Charm's test out of the way the day before it was a fairly easy day with little to no drama from their free spirited Professor. It wasn't that she didn't like Kesali, she rather enjoyed his antics actually, but the vested personal interest he seemed to take in his students went a little overboard sometimes. She had her boundaries, she expected them to be respected, and when one had teachers like Ignan Storm and a HoH like Landis Morgan... well, touchy feely was not something you were really used to. She was contemplating all this as she exited the classroom, textured curls wild around her face (it was not a day to have worn her hair down apparently), when she noticed a rather distraught looking Salemite staring wide eyed at two snickering Slytherin boys. This could not possibly bode well for anyone, especially as she realized the girl was the same one she'd seen fall completely to pieces with the snotty Beauxbatons' manners professor.

"Oy! Murphy," she came up behind the tallest of the two boys, hand making contact with the back of his head, wand slipping down her other sleeve and into her palm easily, "Camille told me your sausage was about half the size of a toddler's but I assumed your actual brain was at least big enough to know everyone quit pulling pigtails to flirt with girls in second year. Now stop being a tit and gather up the lovely lady's cards before I go get Professor Kesali and let him unleash the full force of his personality on you whist dragging you to see the Castle's head shrinker or worse Heasmistress McGonagall. I'm sure she'd be right thrilled with the way you're treating our guests". She watched as the boy went pale, his top lip curling in a sneer, her own expression placid, almost bored as she inspected her nails. When he stepped forward her wand found itself placed squarely in his chest, eyebrow lifting, "The cards"?

It wasn't really a question so much as an expectation of his next movement. His friend, who Roh couldn't bother to name snickered a bit until her green eyes snapped at him. There was something to be said about a girl who stood 5'10 and wore boots that made her well over 6 foot, with wild hair and absolutely no time for your bullshit. Of course (largely to save face she was sure) rather than bowing to her demands they simply turned and walked away, to which Roh replied with an obscene gesture to their backs and a parting shot of "Bloody Wankers," before turning to look at Enright. The poor thing was shaking, her eyes big with helpless tears and Waverly's expression softened, "Declan Murphy is no more worth crying over than a a cuppa spilled tea, Lovey. There is not one single redeeming quality to be found in him, even his hair is terrible," she said this as though being a boy with terrible hair and no manners was the worst possible thing he could be...and in Roh's estimation it probably was.

With a sharp flick of her wrist and a muttered incantation the cards were air born again and within moments Roh's slender fingers curled around a neatly stacked deck, which she promptly offered to the smaller girl, "You should have smacked him upside the head, or at the very least kicked him in the shin. It really is a gratifying feeling. Asking them why is like asking a Cockatrice why it isn't a Basilisk; either one'll kill you". Lightly patting the other girl's shoulder she just sighed and shook her head, "You're Annie right? Waverly Roh-Ballentyne, but everyone calls me Roh. Let's walk shall we? I'm absolutely famished," the thing about the tall Slytherin was she didn't generally wait for confirmation from people before just doing what she had suggested, so even as she asked the question she was gently urging the other girl forward with her hand - in the opposite direction her former tormentors had gone.

Maybe it was a tad vain of her, but as soon as Annie saw the tall Slytherin girl approaching, her embarrassment just about tripled. It was one thing to be a victim and have to deal with the repercussions of the mischief of some dumb boys, but it was quite another to know that there was an audience watching while she squirmed. As soon as someone saw, it opened her up to becoming a victim on more than one level – a victim of bullying and a victim of gossip - and, frankly, she'd almost rather be messed with than talked about. All bullying got to her heart, but names and snickering got into her head, and with a mind like Annie's, which never shut off, becoming the subject of gossip felt like an even worse fate. She couldn't blame people for talking, though. If she were a spectator instead of the unfortunate victim then she would probably talk about her, too. The sky was blue, the grass was green, and people talked. It was life. She just wished she didn't have to know people were watching. No such luck today. Her cheeks were growing pinker by the second and her bottom lip quivered wildly, daring her not to cry. No such like there, either. She sniffled as the first tears fell.

The wild haired girl seemed to be standing up for her, but Annie wasn't immediately inclined to believe it. When she'd first started school as a newly minted eleven year old, Annie had been distressed to learn that not everyone who went to her new school was nice, but as she grew older and more jaded, she often found herself shocked when someone was actually kind. When she'd first been selected to come to Hogwarts she'd hoped, rather naively, that what made her strange at Salem might be what helped her pass for cool at the more traditional wizarding school. She thought a fresh start might fix some things. Clearly she'd been wrong, but she still held out hope that this school year would be somehow transformative. As embarrassing as the little intervention was, it also filled her with a sort of joy, which only made her want to cry all the more. She should have been gathering her cards. She knew how, and only Annie herself really knew what order they belonged in, but she was captivated by the way this girl just stepped in and took control. The smacking was a little subversive, sure, but they seemed to listen to her. When her Slytherin savior had banished the boys (presumably to the great hall, where they'd laugh at her as soon as she came in) and began speaking, it was slightly surreal – like the heroine had stepped down off the stage and had begun to address the audience.

She took the cards from the girl gratefully, willing herself not to examine them right now – this wasn't the time for making sure they were all facing the same direction. It would drive her mad until she got to it, but she didn't want to be accused of being rude twice in a two day period. She wanted to respond to what the other girl was saying, but she was still quite overcome with emotion, her eyes red and blurry. She didn't have words just yet, so she merely nodded. On some level she did care to know why the boys had targeted her, but in reality she'd only blurted out the first question she could think of. She thought she may have already known the answer anyway.

”You're Annie right? Waverly Roh-Ballentyne, but everyone calls me Roh.” 

“I know,” Annie responded. She'd answered too quickly, too eagerly, and she knew it. She winced. “Okay, that sounded dumb,” the teary girl remarked, sniffling, “But I know who you are. We're, um... in... the same...class,” she added, her words emerging awkwardly and clumsily. She walked along with Roh, appreciating the fact that someone else was taking control while she felt so thoroughly worthless. After a good old round of humiliation it was hard not to feel entirely useless, like any choice she made was dumb. She wasn't afraid to admit it, either. “I just feel so stupid,” she muttered as she tried to catch her breath and calm down properly. “I didn't do anything to them. I've never even talked to them before.” It seemed so nonsensical. She'd always thought that by eleventh grade kids would be sick of this kind of thing, but clearly she'd been wrong. Introduce some new victims and it was like sixth grade all over again. “I could never hit someone, though. I just... I could never do that.”

Roh tilted her head to the side watching Annie as they walked, trying to understand what had her so upset. Waverly had been  very lucky in parentage, being raised by two strong witches of color in a house of love and acceptance had instilled in the Slytherin a set of personal boundaries she would not allow to be crossed. She understood that she had inalienable rights as a person and that she didn't have to take anyone's bullshit. She was a healthy balance between her mothers (for the most part anyway), she had Althea's heart and complex understanding of others while maintaining Zora's demand for respect - not despite the fact she was a girl but because of it. As crazy as Zora made her now, as flawed as Roh thought she was in her thinking, she also knew that she would not have the backbone she did without the Auror's influence.

"Chin up Lovey," she actually wrapped her arm around the shorter girl's shoulders and gave it a squeeze as she guided her into the bathroom, no reason to rush off to lunch if Annie needed to collect herself. Reaching into one of the empty stalls she offered the Salemite some tissue before turning to face her own reflection in the mirror above one of the sinks, fussing with her wild curls, lips pursed to one side "You're not stupid, you really shouldn't say things like that about yourself. It lets other people think it's perfectly acceptable to think and say it about you, and it isn't". She glanced at Annie's reflection, expression serious as she shook her head, the poor thing was a total wreck. Seeing her like this after having witnessed her run in with Madame Desrosiers, Roh felt compelled to do something, "Can I give you some advice? Girl to girl"?

She didn't actually wait for Annie to reply before she turned and placed two hands on her shoulders, "You are not weak. You are not stupid. You are not terrible, useless, or any other awful thing you tell yourself you are. You're just a person, and sometimes we make mistakes, or we don't say things in the way we want. That is a part of life. You can't let it consume you because the more you tell yourself you're terrible or unworthy of simple kindness the more you project that to everyone around you. Declan and his cronie picked on you because they knew they could. They wanted a reaction and they got one," shaking her head she dabbed the corner of the other girl's eye with some left over tissue, "don't give them the satisfaction. That is Slytherin survival one-o-one, never let them see you sweat. If they can't get you to react, or if you react in a way they're not expecting they lose the game".

Patting her shoulder, she tried to give the other girl a meaningful look before turning back to the mirror and starting to dig through her bag, "That's all it is to them you know, it's a game. First one to make you cry wins. But it just means they're awful people with something seriously wrong in their brains, not you. If you had just a little bit more confidence in yourself you could bring Declan Murphy to his knees with a look, and would not have a total panic attack every time a professor stopped you in the halls. Desrosiers is a beast, but if she scared you I have no idea how you handle Storm. That old goat gives first years night terrors I swear. His lesson on unforgivables last year was intense. He had a frog mutilate itself, I had nightmares for a week - but I'm much stronger for the experience," turning to look at Annie, lip gloss poised in midair, "That's where we have to get you, to the point where you grow from it rather than let it hurt and fester".

The reason Annie had gotten teary-eyed during her unfortunate run in with Mademoiselle Desrosiers the day before was not because she was afraid of teachers. Teachers, in general, were okay – they told her what she needed to know and what she had to do, and she liked those cut and dry assurances. Relationships with teachers were much less complicated than relationships with peers - as long as you kept them strictly professional, anyway. The reason Mademoiselle Desrosiers had gotten to her was because she'd stopped her in the middle of the hallway just to criticize her. It had felt very, very personal. She was used to teachers fixing her wandwork and correcting her essays, but having someone in a position of authority picking on her physical appearance felt different. The ambush she'd just experienced felt quite similar – it felt personal and public and, in essence, it hadn't felt even remotely good. She couldn't imagine that her reaction, in either case, was anything less than justified.

Annie accepted the tissue from the taller girl, folding it up neatly and using it to dab at her pink and puffy eyes, feeling quite glad that she hadn't chosen today of all days to mess around with eye makeup. She looked at herself in the mirror, but her own reflection, blotchy and miserable, was repulsive to her, so she looked away, dabbing blindly. She listened to what Roh had to say about her tendency to tack self deprecating insults onto the beginning or end of sentences, but her only adequate response was a profound sort of sigh – the sigh of the long-suffering teenager who knew she couldn't defend herself without using the same self deprecating comments she was being admonished for. She'd always preferred to insult herself first, before anyone else could get the chance. If she was the first person to call herself stupid, or dumb, or a mess, then nobody else could be the first – and even if they wanted to be the second, they'd just be speaking redundancies. Plus, it was far easier to insist that something had gone badly because she was dumb than it was to admit that maybe it had gone that way because, Merlin Forbid!, she'd made a mistake, or wasn't perfect, or her beliefs about something were just different.

”Can I give you some advice? Girl to girl?”

Annie nodded, and a pair of hands almost immediately appeared on her shoulders. This girl was clearly a lot more touchy-feely than Annie was used to, and she couldn't help but to be distracted by it. She was trying to focus on what the girl was saying, but about half of her attention was directly solely on acknowledging that she was being touched. She wasn't used to having her bubble of personal space penetrated so completely by someone who'd only introduced herself a few moments earlier. It didn't really get any better when Roh attacked her dripping eyes - but she was intimidated by her stature, her confidence, the easy way she had with words – so she stood there, even though there were alarms going off in her brain telling her it was uncomfortable. She shut her eye against the attack, unable, to control the reflex and unwilling to suggest that the touching was really off putting.

“I don't do it on purpose,” Annie insisted, taking a quick peek in the mirror to see if she looked any less atrocious than she had a moment earlier. She still didn't like what she saw, so she pulled her eyes away – and took another step back from the Slytherin, just for good measure. If she couldn't even tell someone who was being decidedly kind to her that she didn't like the way she was being treated, how was she supposed  to tell someone who was being cruel? And how was she supposed to keep herself from crying? “That's just how I act when I'm upset. I just... I can't help it,” she spoke, sounding slightly congested from the crying, but more like herself.

While Roh glossed her lips, Annie gnawed on her own. She watched her in the mirror, focusing on the primping girl's reflection rather than on her own. “I actually don't take that class,” she remarked when Roh brought up Professor Storm. She knew him by reputation only, and was quite glad that his course wasn't one of the Hogwarts classes she was enrolled in. As she went on, however, Annie transitioned from worrying at her lip to outright balking, her jaw hanging open slightly and her eyes growing as round as saucers. “He was hurting animals?” she asked, her voice quiet, as if saying it softer would make it less true. “I wouldn't ever stay in a class like that. Why would he use a curse on an animal that's illegal to use on people? That's really not right. It's really not.” She couldn't imagine becoming stronger after experiencing cruelty. She could imagine crying, or having a small fit, but not becoming stronger. Many of Annie's good friends were... well.. livestock – and not the 'raised for slaughter' kind, the petting zoo kind. 

”That's where we have to get you, to the point where you grow from it rather than let it hurt and fester.”

“From hurting animals?” she asked, temporarily confused by the change in subject. When she realized what Roh was talking about she looked to the ground, embarrassed. “Sorry, that was dumb,” she announced reflexively, but after she said it she winced, realizing she'd once again done the thing that was apparently responsible for her troubles. “Sorry,” she tacked on, apologizing for the apology. “I just mean, I realized what you meant... after you said it.” She sighed.

“So what do I do?” she asked, hoping to get the other girl talking again so she could shut her mouth and prevent herself from saying anything dumber. “And, um... can I do it without every hitting anybody, because I just really don't feel comfortable...”

So the touching was a bad thing, even if Annie hadn't said it her body language spoke volumes. People sent a lot of unconscious signals, the slight tense of the back, the withdrawing, the defensive undertone to a voice someone might not even realize they're using; they were all social cues and one had to learn how to read them and to control the signals their own body was sending. "It's a natural response, people pick at you and it makes you feel small," her voice was a little softer as she turned to actually look at Annie, her hip resting easily against the sink, "I'm adopted, my mothers are a mixed raced lesbian couple in the Wizarding world - a place where until ten years ago having the wrong blood status could get you killed, and people still look at you funny if you're different. I stand 5'10 flat footed without shoes, and have been a head taller than everyone right up until last year when most of the boys finally passed me. I have no interest in traditional purist values or in social climbing. I got onto the Hogwarts express train with a giant target on my back at the age of eleven. I know what it's like to feel like bursting into tears because people are hateful".

She almost cringed at the sound of her own voice, she hated admitting that there had been a time when people could use the things she now saw as strengths against her. She also didn't want Annie to feel like she was trying to "out scar" her, she had shared that chunk of her history...so that maybe the other girl would see that the most basic thing to understand when it came to other people was that everyone - no matter how it looked on the outside - had their own battle scars. It all came down to how one dealt with it and let the incident impact them. Roh had accepted she wasn't like everyone else, that she never would be; and then she had realized that wanting to be like everyone else was a terribly short sighted goal in life. "Somehow, we have to find a way to disconnect the way you feel when someone mocks you from the way you react. The biggest misconception in the whole world is that you're not in control of your body, of your personhood, of your own reactions to stress. It's like playing...oh what is it you American's play"? Pausing, she looked thoughtful before snapping her fingers "Quadpot! Or flying, or any other learned skill. You don't start off knowing how, you have to learn".

Idly tapping her foot, she chewed the inside of her cheek, "It was one of the worst lessons of the year, but he had to use animals because he couldn't practice on students - though I wonder sometimes if he would prefer to use us as targets," there was a trace amount of amusement in her voice as she shook her head, curls bouncing like dozens and dozens of tiny springs. "You start by stopping with the negative self talk. I know the bad things are easier to believe, but you do get to decide you know. You can look at the world like it's attacking you because you're worth attacking or you can try to imagine other people as complex creatures with their own strange motivations that actually have nothing to do with you. Murphy picked on you because you were a target he knew he could get a reaction out of - but if you look at the bigger picture, at the sorry state his life must be in if that is the best way he can get his jollies; then suddenly the problem isn't you. It's him. If you realize, I mean really realize, what a pathetic tit he really is, that he has nothing better to do than pick on a girl he's never even spoken to... his life is sad and small and you get the satisfaction of knowing he will always be sad and small while you get to go on to do whatever devil you want".

Her smile was wry as she gave a one shouldered shrug, "You don't have to hit anybody, though with guys like Declan sometimes a good smack is all they respond to. All you have to do is be able to look at someone, and no matter what their status in the social strata be able to say 'this is unacceptable' when how they're treating you is disrespectful or cruel. No one ever has the right to talk down to you or be cruel to you. If you refuse to be bullied, if you refuse to let your reaction show...eventually they get bored. The more you tell yourself you deserve better the more often better things will happen. It isn't easy, and even we Amazons have bad days... but I decided a long time ago I had to be in control of my body, of my reactions. It's a choice first, something you consciously have to do, a ledge you have to talk yourself away from - because being hurt and cowering is a natural response. Standing up for yourself, Having confidence in who you are, those things take effort - but it is more than worth it. Life is battleground and we all walk away with our share of scars, but if you look at every experience as adding another layer to your armor instead of another wound to nurse eventually standing tall and staring them down becomes the natural reaction".

Upon meeting someone, Annie didn't usually take the opportunity to pause and contemplate their background or their parentage. You just took some things for granted, like assuming everyone had two parents – a mom and a dad, of course – who looked just like them, and lived in a house with them, and were a family. It was kind of a dumb assumption, considering Annie's favorite sibling was completely estranged from her parents and living in Rhode Island with his muggleborn boyfriend. As Annie took in Roh's description of her family background, it genuinely puzzled her. She had to look at her again, as if some part of her outward appearance held a clue that she should have picked up on a long time ago. It was strange trying to reconcile what she believed with the truth, especially in such a brief period. It seemed like she should have felt bad for her – like all of the pain that Roh was describing should have fired up her empathy boosters – but it didn't. There was something else at play.

“Well, um, you're really pretty,” Annie half whispered, feeling foolish, but she couldn't help but think it was relevant. "Like, really, really pretty."  She'd never seen anyone picking on pretty people in the hallways. Annie knew she had all sorts of faults, but she couldn't help but think that her appearance was the biggest one. She glanced up at the mirror again and took herself in – bloodshot eyes, blotchy pink skin, giant hulking nose, lips that had been chewed to death. She blinked, shifting her focus to the far wall. “I can't fix that about me. It just... I can't. Nobody can. So you're kind of lucky, I guess.” She wandered toward the bin to deposit her damp tissue, lingering where she could see Roh but not her own reflection. 

Roh's little sports skill analogy wasn't really helping, either. “I'm, like, the worst athlete in my entire school,” she sighed, shifting on her feet. It wasn't like she hadn't tried to learn to keep up! Well... she hadn't tried all that hard, honestly – she sort of had her niche, and atheltics (outside of riding) had nothing to do with it. If the Slytherin girl had chosen any other metaphor it might have clicked, but instead it only really served to reinforce that yet another thing that came naturally to almost every other kid in her school was impossible for her. She looked down at her boots, frowning to herself. “You can really stop yourself from crying?” she asked. “I've always wanted to, but I just... doesn't your lip start shaking? The harder I try to stop, the harder it just shakes, and it just... happens.”

The other girl could have had a long career ahead of her as a motivational speaker, if she was so inclined – she seemed to spout wisdom like a fountain. She didn't stammer or get confused or change her mind mid-sentence. She just talked and talked and talked – and the more she said, the more difficulty Annie had in believing that there was any hope for her. She was the sort of girl who needed direction. If you told her what to do, she'd do it – sometimes better than asked, if she really worked. Roh just wasn't being direct enough – she was telling her how to be better, but not what steps she needed to take... which made Annie think that the steps were obvious and she was just too dense to figure them out.

“So...” she started, pausing to try and collect her thoughts, her left arm jiggling anxiously at her side. “What if... um... let's just pretend, what if that boy Declan hadn't done anything to me yet? I mean – that's not what I mean. I mean, what if we pretended that it was going to happen right now, or soon, or something. I don't know. I don't know. But... just...” she paused to take a breath, realizing she was making no sense. She shook her head to clear it and tried again. “What should I have done? Just... not cried? Because... I don't know.”

Roh blinked once, then twice before looking down at her own body and then back to Annie, "If people only like me because I'm pretty I don't tend to like them. I don't understand wanting to be around people because they're attractive, it's like picking potion ingredients based on how they're packaged rather than what you need. It's stupid, and it means you'll probably end up with a shitty potion," she sighed a little rubbing the back of her neck, wishing there was some way to make Annie understand that part of her whole problem was that she went around comparing herself to 'pretty people'. "Do you know why you think I'm pretty? I mean really, deep down - is it the wild curls, the big eyes, my nose, my mouth? What physical thing is it you think separates me from being picked on like any other person walking down those halls"?

She waited, watching the other girl carefully, rather keen to hear her answer before she continued, "Lucky" she couldn't help but sound a little incredulous. "Have you noticed how many students of color there actually are at this school? You think race isn't a thing here? Take a look around, how many Wrock stars look like me, how many Wizarding Models, how many Quidditch Stars, how many influential Witches or Wizards look like me; then compare those numbers to all the ones who look more like you, and get back to me about how I'm lucky Annie". Roh didn't get mad about being being a Witchling of color, but to have someone tell her she was lucky because she was attractive was quite possibly one of the single most insulting things she'd ever heard - like she hadn't had to learn to love herself, to accept that she was different and the things that made her different were things she had to validate herself. No, because she was pretty her life must have been super easy!

Rubbing the bridge of her nose she took a deep breath and was quiet for a moment before she continued, "Beautiful, pretty, attractive, they're all arbitrary words. They have no real meaning because everyone's definition is different. The thing that sets me apart from you is the way I carry myself. I accept myself for who I am. I love who I am, I don't want to be anyone else because I'm too busy being me instead of focusing on how I don't fit some predetermined mold. If I walked around with my shoulders slumped and looking at everyone like they deserved to give me a good kick to the ribs you can bet your American arse they'd get their licks in where they could. That is the difference. I don't just believe I have a right to be treated with respect, I demand that right. In the end it comes down to how you carry yourself. Instead of focusing on every inch of you that you would change, or everything that you wish you hadn't said just own it or let it go".

She considered Annie's question and gave a shrug, "There was this muggle, I think she was American, and she said 'no one can make you feel inferior without your consent'. It's a good quote, but not exactly completely true. People can use their words to hurt you, but you have control over your body, over your reactions. It takes time to learn, but it can be done. So, yeah, I can keep myself from crying in front of people. I take deep breaths, I square my shoulders, I try to make myself remember that whatever they're doing is more about them than about me. It doesn't always work, but it helps. If Declan came up to you tomorrow and took your cards, instead of panicking and thinking why me, just look at him, deadpan. If your lip starts to tremble press them together, or suck in your cheeks, don't let your mind think of it as humiliation, because honestly he's the one who looks like a tit. Then you have two options you could ignore him, gather up your cards and walk away or look him dead in the eye and say something like 'laughable attempt at flirting with me, mate', and then walk away away".

“You're really proportionate,” Annie began speaking softly, not daring to look at her while she listed off the attributes that she felt kept her from social acceptance. She'd been looking at the other girl's face in the mirror since they came in – she didn't need to look now to find the right words. “And symmetrical. And you have these really light eyes that, if, um... if I was drawing you – drawing a picture of you - I'd need to reserve a lot of white, and people's eyes would go right to them. And you have nice shadows, um, nice contours. You probably don't get washed out that easily.” She stopped there, feeling awkward, clearing her throat in the echoy near silence of the bathroom. “And, um... that's just your face, so...” she trailed off, refusing to meet the other girl's eyes. She wasn't actually giving compliments – she was just stating facts. If she were translating Roh's face to paper, all of that would come into play. It still felt strange listing off all of the features that supported another person's facial beauty, and embarrassing to have to admit that she'd been paying such close attention.

Annie shrank down into herself as Roh began to go on about race, picking at the word she'd chosen – the word lucky – as if she'd meant it as an insult. She tucked her chin, pulled her arms in, pressed her legs together, in essence doing everything she could to make herself appear smaller in the hope that she'd disappear on the spot. It came naturally, like a reflex. She did it quite often. Annie made a poor chameleon, however, standing there by the trash, the only other person in the room. She couldn't hide here – not without a crowd of people to blend into. “That's not... I wasn't saying that,” she half whispered, her voice hoarse and careful, as if trying to keep a baby from waking up... and eating her face off. She still felt the girl was lucky that she was beautiful, regardless of gumption or life circumstances. You didn't get to pick what you looked like. It was like winning the genetic lottery – lucky. And she was pretty. Everything Annie knew about aesthetics told her so. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

She'd decided, at that point, that the other girl hated her. She wasn't sure why, or what switch had been flipped, but she seemed so much angrier now. She couldn't help but feel like she was getting scolded, even as she spoke of love and self acceptance. It might have been the accent - she sounded like her mother, which was kind of creepy. Whatever the case, Annie didn't think she'd be busy loving herself anytime soon - at least not in the ways Roh was suggesting. She didn't think she was being disingenuous on a regular basis. She didn't know how to be anyone other than herself! Wasn't her problem that she was too candid? The only way to be what Waverly wanted her to be was to change, and that seemed to defeat the whole purpose! She was confused. She was so, so very confused. Even her direct suggestions about how she might have dealt with Declan didn't feel right, because on what planet would insults ever pop into her head while under duress? Plus, she couldn't even talk without stammering when she felt safe, let alone when she felt vulnerable! It seemed like a solution for a very different person. She stayed tucked in the corner, looking particularly unsure about everything being suggested, her brow scrunched.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked. It was a weird followup to all of that information, but she was quaking under the strain of wondering, and she had to know. She swallowed hard, a blush forming over her cheeks as she stepped out of the corner a little and sighed. “I'm not trying to be annoying. I'm just... maybe I'm already the way I want to be, and if that's not good enough then I'd rather just get made fun of all of the time.” She was pouting, but that's what Annie did – Annie pouted. If Roh wanted her to be true to herself, that was about as true as she could get. “I don't want to have to be mean to people. I don't like when they do it to me, so I don't want to do it back.” She didn't want to hit. She didn't want to throw insults. She didn't want to be the thing she despised. “It doesn't matter anyway. They can make fun of me if they want to, but I just really wish they wouldn't mess up my note cards.”

Waverly frowned in concern as Annie seemed to shrink into herself even more (were such a thing possible). Obviously this peptalk was not going the way Roh had planned, which was strange; she was usually pretty good at picking people up when they were down. She didn't discount anything the other girl had said about her facial features that made her pretty, but Waverly had had her own insecurities. She had worried about her nose and mouth to face ratio. She had had to worry about being too tall for as long as she could remember, always in the back row of everything. Her hair didn't fit the norm of westernized beauty, to get it to do things like her friends' she had to use special potions and get up two hours early. Her mothers had done their best to teach her to embrace those things but it hadn't always been easy. There were days she wanted to be able to just roll out of bed, slap her hair into a ponytail and look as polished as the other girls.

The concern on her face grew when Annie asked if she was angry with her and Waverly found herself stepping forward only to remember that the other girl didn't seem to like being touched. "No, I'm not mad I'm... I'm sad that you see so little of yourself to like. You're smart, and you're sweet, and you're obviously very artistically minded. I've watched you since the start of Fall term in class and you just look so lonely and sad," she paused chewing her bottom lip and shaking her head, "but maybe the way I deal with the world isn't the way you have to deal with the world. I had to embrace sticking out and learn to brush myself off because I was never going to get to blend in. I had to get comfortable with being visible. And one of my mums is an Auror so I basically grew up learning self defense and being taught to own my power and personhood as both a girl and a witch, protecting myself and others with any means necessary," she sounded almost sheepish then as she chewed on her bottom lip.

Annie made a fair point, if she was actually who she wanted to be... but it didn't seem that way from the outside looking in, "You're not me though, so maybe we have to find another way for you to deal with people picking on you. Maybe you're more of a passive resistance type, instead of interact with someone when they try to bully you, you just walk away. They still don't get the desired reaction out of you - deep breathing might help. It would keep you calmer at least. My Mum Althea is really into meditation. She's very nature loving we-are-all-one sort of Earth Mother Goddess. When I was little and I would cry she would have me count backwards, the more upset I was the bigger the number. She used to talk about creating a safe space for yourself inside your own skin. I do think though, that you have to realize the massive difference between standing up for yourself, having the sense of self worth to tell people they're out of line and being mean. Was I mean to Declan? Yeah, but he's a terrible person so, personally I won't lose a lot of sleep over it. It's ok to tell people to stop, that you don't like what they're doing. That's not being mean Annie".

Annie was glad that the verbose Slytherin girl claimed she wasn't angry at her, but she still wasn't convinced that it was true. She seemed more invested in the problem of Annie's lack of self esteem than Annie did herself, which just made her certain that it was annoying the taller girl in some way. Her insistence that she stop being so self conscious was only making her more self conscious. She hadn't realized she was quite that terrible until Roh started listing off all of the ways she needed to change. It wasn't insulting, exactly, but it was definitely alarming.

”I've watched you since the start of Fall term in class and you just look so lonely and sad.”

“I'm not. Well, not most of the time,” she insisted, her forehead scrunching in thought. “Most of my friends are still back at school, and I miss them, but, um... it's not...I mean, I wanted to come here, and I did, so if I'm lonely then it's my fault, anyway.” Maybe she looked constantly sad, but she didn't feel that way. She was serious, especially during class, because that was the kind of student she was, but there was a difference between choosing not to goof off and just plain being sad. She found immense joy in working hard, at least once all was said and done – sacrifice lead to rewards eventually. Was she supposed to sit in class giggling? “And I don't hate myself. I never said that I did,” she added, a touch defensively. “I know I'm not pretty, but I don't hate myself.”

“I'm sure people know they're being mean when they pick on someone. I don't really think I need to tell them,” she spoke slowly, trying so desperately to comprehend what Roh was suggesting. This wasn't her first run-in with bullies, after all – she'd been trying to figure out how to get people to leave her alone for a good chunk of her life. If it was as easy to solve as one conversation in a bathroom over some makeshift kleenex then she probably would have gotten the hang of it long before now, but it just didn't come as naturally to her as that. “Next time I just won't talk,” she decided, nodding a few quick times to affirm to herself that it was a plan worth attempting. “And maybe if I don't talk, I won't cry, but I don't know. My mom says all of the time that I'm too sensitive.” She sighed one long and profound sigh. This was not an easy conversation, and between crying and bearing her soul she was sort of exhausted.

Well Waverly felt officially, utterly, completely useless. Normally she was good at stuff like this, she really was. Maybe Annie was content in her misery over being picked on, maybe it was comfortable for her. It certainly wasn't comfortable to watch, it had made Roh want to jump in and do something and... well look where that had gotten her. She seemed to be making Annie feel worse about herself instead of better. It wasn't as though Roh could just tell the other girl she was pretty either, it would be easy to brush off as you have to say things like that, or some other excuse that the Salemite seemed really good at finding to invalidate whatever advice or help Waverly offered. She wouldn't give up thought, she'd just have to be more patient about it.

"You don't have to be lonely you know. I mean, new places are hard - I get that, but as terrible as some people can be there are also really great people. I know lots of students are all rawr house pride, but I figure there are terrible people in every house which means there also has to be not terrible people in every house..." she trailed off, looking down. House bias had been something she'd dealt with since being sorted into Slytherin because she didn't come from the same kind of background as a good chunk of her housemates - having two mothers sort of knocked her out of the running as a traditionalist, and her bloodstatus did the rest. Times were changing of course, the Monarchy had less of a stranglehold over the house in general but Roh still felt misplaced sometimes.

So she tried to just get along with everyone, even if they were sulking and seemed offended by every other word that came out of her mouth. "You don't need to tell them they're being mean no, but the point I was trying to make was that telling them the way they're treating you is unacceptable isn't being mean. You have the right to tell someone to leave you alone. You don't have to fight, or hit, or scream, or cry - and if the way you choose to send the message is by not reacting, by not speaking to them, by turning the other cheek and walking away then that's okay. I just..." she paused fiddling with the buttons of her cardigan, "I just think you should know that sometimes that backfires and then you do have to get loud and defend your right to walk the halls without worrying about idiots like Declan Murphy stepping on you".

She glanced up at the clock on the wall and then back to Annie, "Come on, let's go get some food. I'll introduce you to some people who are not terrible," she offered a lopsided smile to the other girl waiting for her to respond. There were only so many ways you could repeat yourself and this obviously wasn't making either of them feel any better. She wasn't giving up, she was simply... calling a time out to regroup and gather her thoughts. Maybe if she helped Annie surround herself with positive people then she'd stop being so critical of herself, of her looks - which to be perfectly honest Roh didn't even understand. The other girl had great skin, thick dark hair, her eyes were a soft brown (a bit like velvet), and if she would smile Roh was sure Annie'd be down right lovely. Genetic lottery aside (which she had apparently won, though she had no idea because she couldn't look at anyone and see herself in them), Waverly really, truly, completely, believed that true beauty - the important beauty, had nothing to do with how a person looked.

Annie Enright had not been raised by two strong women of color who taught her to believe in herself or to serve justice or to embrace her individuality. She hadn't even been raised by one. She'd had some nannies, though – some better than others, and only a few who she genuinely loved. Plus, she did have a mother, but the woman was quite smitten with her career and tended to curate her life rather than live it, and she did the same with Annie, as if she were a fashion doll rather than a little girl. Her mother selected classes for her to take, but seldom taught her much. She purchased her plenty of clothing, but never took her shopping. She talked at her, but rarely conversed with her. At no point did she suggest that Annie might have a voice, or opinions, or that her choices really mattered. She made sure Annie knew what was wrong with her at all times, completely unable to keep herself from nitpicking in her pursuit of something like perfection. Annie just wasn't equipped to question her place in the relationship. Negativity felt kind of natural for the neurotic brunette – it was part of the order of things. No matter how motivational and convincing Roh was, her entire outlook on life wasn't likely to change in a school lavatory after only a few minutes. 

Annie was happy to leave the bathroom. She was really starting to get a little claustrophobic – bathrooms weren't exactly scenic locations, and the confined space may have been playing a role in how anxious and defensive she was feeling. Once they were out in the corridor she wasted no time fishing her cards back out from her schoolbag, getting to work on organizing them while they walked along. She liked them all facing the right way, with the ones she hadn't worked on that day on the top, the answers concealed by her clever little spell. “Oh, these are a mess,” she remarked frustratedly as she sorted through them, working deftly to organize them the way she liked. “A couple are bent – I might just do them over. Once they get bent the pile doesn't sit flat, and it's so annoying,” she sighed. This job was likely too big for a stroll through the hallways. Now that she knew the extent of the damage, however, she had to at least make sure they were all facing the right way, or she'd keep thinking about the disorganized pile and  it would drive her nuts. It was the sort of thing that would cause her to wake suddenly in the middle of the night with her heart pounding in her chest. If she wanted to sleep tonight then she had to take care of this. 

“I wouldn't care so much if we didn't have exams this week,” she moped, shuffling and shuffling, only glancing up occasionally to be sure she wasn't about to trip over something or walk into a wall. “Oh, not this one!” she exclaimed mournfully, looking down at one of her illustrated cards, which featured a hand drawn animated figure executing the proper wand motion for the incantation described in Annie's meticulously neat script. The card didn't look terribly damaged, but there was definitely a crease near the upper left corner. From the pitiful expression on the girl's face, however, you'd think it was torn in a hundred tiny pieces, or possibly on fire. “I wish they would have just kicked me instead, or pulled my hair or something. When am I going to have time to re-do these? It's going to ruin my entire schedule!” she moaned, adding the card to the pile with a heavy sigh.

Roh looked at Annie and the stack of cards, suddenly even more annoyed with Declan than she had been before. It was one thing to pick on some one, annoy them, but the idiot had some how managed to send Enright into an emotional tailspin. Waverly could almost see the gears in Annie's head spinning too fast for her to keep up with; almost like a disaster domino effect. She started to reach out and pat the other girl's back before remembering it would probably just stress her out more. "You know that counting thing I was talking about, when I would get upset or overwhelmed and my mum would have me deep breathe? This might be one of those times it would come in handy. There are only so many hours in the day, and while I am sure this idea will terrify you; some of the best parts of life happen when things are off schedule and chaotic," deep down Roh knew she was probably talking more to herself but she felt like it needed to be said.

When Annie noted a particularly mangled card, the dark skinned girl made a small humming sound, "Well, we are witches Annie. If we can't come up with a spell between us to fix it I'm sure Professor Kesali would be happy to help; and before you say you don't want to bother him keep in mind that it's not only his job to teach us this kind of stuff but also he really cares about his students and their mental well being. If this is really going to cloud up the back of your brain and make it hard for you to focus for the rest of the day, and make exams more stressful then I'm sure he wouldn't have any trouble at all taking a few minutes to show us some repairing spells". That was one thing that the Charms Professor's hands on approach aided in, a student never had to be afraid to ask for help. Roh figured for someone like Annie his gentle personality would make it easier to approach and ask for help. At this point Waverly was mostly looking for a way to keep the other girl from having a total panic inducing meltdown.

"We could even stop by before we get lunch? Or if you're really hungry and think you can wait, after lunch I have Potions but then I'm free until they start the seminars at five. If you don't want to try talking Kesali, maybe we could just meet up in the library and study together, if you want I mean," Roh was in helpful problem-solver mode. She just wanted to make Annie feel better, or at least like someone cared in a non-patronizing way. It wasn't a pitying thing, the offering to help her, it was because as sassy as Roh could be with her friends like Gigi she also just liked helping people and if the tables were turned and she was stuck somewhere like America with most (if not all) her friends back in Scotland she would hope someone would take the time to help her out. If you put good energy into the world good energy came back to you. The very least she could do was try to send a little good energy Annie's way, "Or, alternately, we could not study and spend the whole time talking about the Yule Ball, and how despite my very draw-able features, I have no date".

In Declan's defense (though it's doubtful that he deserved the sympathy), it didn't take much to drive Annie into a near psychotic state. If he hadn't been the one to cause her this turmoil, she would have found a way to cause it for herself. It wasn't that she went out of her way to seek out reasons to panic, but she always managed to find one lurking, just waiting for her to stumble over it and publicly freak out. She just didn't feel like herself unless she had some problem to invest her energy into. It probably explained why she took to drawing during downtime – every drawing was a problem she could obsess over without judgment from others, and in the end everything resolved itself harmoniously. The more obsessive she got, the more she invested, the better the outcome. It was the perfect hobby for someone with Annie's particular tendencies. Unfortunately, she couldn't draw her way through life, nor could she ignore itchy little problems right in front of her. “I'll just stay up and do them,” she decided, but she didn't look thrilled with that compromise. She was a night owl, but not usually on purpose.

”I'm sure he wouldn't have any trouble at all taking a few minutes to show us some repairing spells .”

“It's not... it's not broken,” Annie insisted, floundering a bit, trying to defend her right to fuss. “It's just a little bent. It's better just to do it over. I like them perfect.” Not many of her other cards were so obviously bent, but there were one or two more she might have liked to copy over and re-charm in the interest of uniformity. There was just something about opening up her handsome wooden card box to see all of her cards waiting for her, none of them sticking out or drawing attention. It was calming. “I like Professor Kesali, though,” Annie admitted, her eyes fixed on her cards as she walked along, going through the stack for a second time... just in case. “He looks like a human unicorn,” she admitted, smiling sheepishly to herself, holding back a giggle. Clearly she wasn't on the verge of an actual breakdown, though when the creased card made its way to the top of the pile again, her smile replaced itself with a sensible little pout.

”If you don't want to try talking Kesali, maybe we could just meet up in the library and study together, if you want I mean.”

“Oh, I have potions, too... and then I was going to do homework from 3:00 to 4:00,” she explained, going through her intended schedule for the day in her mind. “I wish the common areas weren't private at this school. We could get so much done after dinner if there was someplace comfortable where we could work,” she bemoaned. “It's so hard to study in the library.” Annie was not fond of studying silently with her nose pressed into a book – she liked to test herself, to repeat things out loud, and to actually practice in a place where everyone wouldn't stare at you if you messed up and your wand backfired... and being able to take off her shoes was also a nice bonus.

”Or, alternately, we could not study and spend the whole time talking about the Yule Ball, and how despite my very draw-able features, I have no date.”

“Oh, me either,” Annie admitted, immediately jumping in to reassure the Slytherin. She didn't think it was surprising news. “I'd like to go. Well, I think I would. My mother sent me with a dress, but I just... I don't know. Because that would buy me a lot of time to run charm drills, and it seems like a waste to go to a party when... well. I just mean nobody would miss me if I decided to use that time to work. It seems more responsible...” she mused, seeming to think through this out loud. She'd had this same conversation with herself, in her own mind, many, many times before. “It's only one night, though, so I just... I don't know. I don't know.”