The Empty Quiet

Chapter 1: With Music

"Ahh, Ms. Stimpson. So nice to see you in uniform today."

"Ahh, Professor Flitwick. So nice to see you sporting the same robes as yesterday."

He eyed her up and down before starting with

"You-"

"Professor Flitwick!" Boomed an authoritative voice. Pat looked up to see Madam Pomfrey waltzing over in small curt steps. Rhythmically and her heels hit the floor. "Ah, there you are. I've been meaning to find you."

Professor Flitwick shot an angry glance before hobbling over to Madam Pomphrey and walking with her until Pat could no longer hear them. She looked down at her hands. They were pale and red, skinny fingers, cracked knuckles. She folded and looked up. Staring out the window infant of her, casting her eyes over the long table that lay between her and the outside. The great hall was dimly lit as the morning sun peeked through the bottom of the window all the way to the ceiling. The silky light pink and blue light filling the room. The Professor's table had but two occupants, Mogonagal and the Sybil Trelawney, Sybill Patricia Trelawney to be exact. Pat always found it fun they shared the same name. She also had quite a licking to divination, probably on Trelawney's account. Pat was wearing her pajamas to breakfast like she always did. A ratted sweatshirt with the Hogwarts logo on it, the white lettering nearly disintegrated, and even more ratty flannel pants. The red and blue overlapping with blotches of discoloration. The ribbon that held it to her waist, broken and open for greedy fingers to pull the thread apart. She had her usual tea with cream and sugar, not milk as she was always adamant to only have cream, and a small slice of toast thinly covered with strawberry jam.

She finished her breakfast staring at the window. When she got to the hall that morning at around 6:30 as she always did, she was one of 5 students. By now the student body had begun to file in, and with that, she had to leave. She finished all but the corner of her toast, which she couldn't bear to digest, and headed out the door.

She decided to take the long way that day back to the common room. Taking large glides, letting the frayed pajama bottoms collide near her ankles with each swish. Up the large stone stairs and around the paintings which held plaintive faces. The only students she saw were a couple of first-years who eyed her clothing and then continued on. They must have been from Gryfindor too, she recognized their faces but did not know their names. That was okay though, she thought, school had only been in session a week and a half.

As she reached the painting the door swung open nearly knocking her over and out popped a familiar if not warming face sporting a redhead above.

"There you are Pat! Where have you been?"

"Why breakfast Freddy."

He eyed the girl's clothing and cleared his throat. "Caught by anyone this morning."

"Only Flitwick, but he was further engaged to do much damage."

"Smashing," he went to throw his arm around her shoulder but she ducked just in time and sidestepped into the room. He looked at her puzzled.

"I'm not in my robes yet, I'll see you and Lee in Potions."

He smiled and gave a curt nod before saying "Right you will," and walking off down the stairs presumably to the great hall to join most of the other students.

The Gryffindor lot had mostly cleared out. Just a few stragglers left. A younger boy by the face, tall and messy hair stuffed his arm full of books and hastened towards the door. Pat walked across the room, the pillows were strewn messily on the couch, the fireplace cold and full of last night's ashes. The room was bright, but not by electricity, the cold strays of Morning. It was an empty kind of light. Not warm and golden. But empty as if no one had ever been yet everyone had left.