The Worst Reunion Ever

[D'rorah Philosophy]

"He was just here." D'rorah had come to loathe those words over the past few days. They were her new nemesis--four words that made her feel like she was on an even faster track to insanity. Ever since she had first heard that Dylan was back, she had wanted to see him, to talk to him. She needed to know what had happened, where he had been. She had worried herself nearly to pieces searching for him while he had been missing; and being unable to find him even now that he had returned wasn't doing much to return her to a relative state of normalcy.

She had sought him out, thinking he would do the same. The ring on her finger was worried at constantly, spinning the newly-loose adornment had become something she did every time she heard those four words, "He was just here." Plenty of people had apparently talked to him, he seemed to be moving along just as if he had never been gone at all... or at least, as though he were catching up from having been gone for a completely innocent reason. An accident on the quidditch pitch, apparently that was what had propelled him away from the school. Considering that, she supposed it made sense that the Headmistress had never asked after him. She'd almost gotten the feeling she was chasing his shadow, that he was avoiding her on purpose. But that couldn't be right. Even when he was angry with her, he'd never directly avoided her... at least, not so actively.

He was safe... that much, at least, allowed her to cease her search for him and return to her research. Though now she spent more time in the common room than she did in the library in hopes of catching him and speaking to him. She needed to see with her own two eyes that he was really back, if for no other reason than to prove to herself that she hadn't completely broken with reality and imagined that he had returned to Hogwarts. Once, frustrated beyond breaking by having missed him three times in a row, hearing that same infernal four words over and over and over again, she had found herself a quiet hidden corner in the Room of Requirement, locked herself away where no one could possibly stumble upon her, and allowed herself to weep, hoping to release the emotional tension that had mounted inside of her. She had cried long and hard and then fallen asleep amidst the gentle breezes of the room of Elemental Wind, her favorite willow tree quietly rustling its reassurance above her.

Since then, she had almost resigned herself to the fact that she might never see him. He was safe, and she felt fortunate for that. She'd come to feel that that small reassurance was more than she deserved even. And so, fighting depression, she had been able to at least force herself to return to her normal routine of research and classes at Hogwarts. She was alert and quiet, speaking little to anyone, and then only when directly spoken to. She moved about the castle, wraith-like, still feeling as though half of her soul were ripped away and held aloft where she could not get at it--no matter how hard she tried. This afternoon, she had packed up her books and headed to the common room, bound for her dormitory to switch out one set of texts for another in the work she was doing. She opened the door to the common room, answering the riddle presented to her mechanically. Even the brass knocker hadn't the heart to torment her anymore apparently, for it allowed her to pass without comment. Like a spectre, she glided quietly across the common room. Though she was unable to stop her eyes from automatically searching for Dylan, she had almost programmed herself for disappointment in that area and so, took a moment to actually realize that he was in the room as well. He appeared to be just passing through. Taking a moment to break out of her shock, she positioned herself directly in his path. She couldn't help the way her face brightened just to see him and realize that he was, in fact, real. She looked at him with pleading eyes and her arms clutched her satchel in front of her protectively, her fingers digging into the fabric hard enough to hurt.

"[blue]Dylan?[/blue]" she asked, her voice breathless with hope and relief and hurt all at once. There was longing and love in that single utterance of his name. Her chest felt tight, as though she could hardly breathe. She wanted to rush to him and fling her arms around him, thus assuring herself that he was a tangible reality, but something in his demeanor caused her to pause. Her relief, however, was not to be so easily denied. She dropped her satchel, not even hearing it land on the ground with a loud thud. In an instant she had covered the distance between them and her arms were around him. "[blue]I missed you more than I could bear,[/blue]" she murmured into his ear as she held tightly to him. But something was wrong, completely not right.

[Dylan Cooper]

Dylan opened his eyes to an empty dormitory. Taking a few luxurious moments of peaceful nothingness as he lay in bed, it was a minute or two before he finally pushed back the covers and slipped out of bed. His bare feet touched the relatively cold wood beneath and while he noticed, the chill was not enough to make him seek out socks or footwear of any kind. Both arms stretched wide briefly before he bent and began to rummage within his trunk, searching for his robes. Considering they had been dumped on the very top the night before, it didn't take too much effort. A few spare quills and his Charms textbook, however, took a bit more time.

He emerged ten minutes later, a quick shower having revived him for the morning, and descended the common room staircase. He cast a small, side-long glance around to take note of any particular Ravenclaws, or lack thereof, before fully moving into the room. Instead of staying, he proceeded directly toward the doorway and left, taking the familiar track down to the Great Hall. Once breakfast had been thoroughly enjoyed, he was briefly caught up by a few fellow fifth years, one a Hufflepuff and the other a Gryffindor, both wondering where he had been. That had been happening a lot since his return, and luckily he had not been unfortunate enough to encounter the one person that he most certainly did not want to.

After the first class of the day he had taken up a position in one of the outdoor courtyards to complete some of his homework; which, after having been away for so long, had turned into a considerable stack. Every spare hour or so was solely dedicated to his school work at this point. Since he had gotten back from St Mungo's, most professors had all deemed it necessary to double check that he was quite alright to continue his work, and when assured so, had really forced him to stagger beneath it. Luckily he was able to continuously process it all, and though he was by no means caught up, he was getting there at least.

Traipsing up the stories after classes, he answered the riddle for the knocker and moved directly to the stairwell, intending to deposit his bag in his dorm before heading down to dinner. Coming back through the common room, he did the usual sweeping glance once more. Unfortunately, there appeared to be one Ravenclaw prefect between him and the door out. Having wanted to avoid this moment for quite as long as possible, he sighed slightly in a faint annoyance. He was hungry, after all, and didn't have the time to spare that she would demand.

D'rorah Philosophy still stood at the same towering height, though the gray streaks in her hair were now the least of her worries where appearance was concerned. The usual small bags beneath her eyes were dark and heavy-looking, and she appeared for all the world as if she hadn't even attempted to maintain herself in quite some time. Assuming that a lot of that was what she might let him think was in fact concern for him, his eyes moved to the ceiling almost imperceptibly, and a slightly annoyed expression took up residence on his features. And after everything, she still had the nerve to stop him from reaching his destination. Of course, she was probably assuming that he wanted to talk to her, that he cared.

She uttered his name and he responded duly. "Yes?" he questioned, his tone indicating his faint annoyance. It wasn't even as if she mattered enough to him to spark true annoyance, merely a shadow of it that you reserved for an annoyingly loud fly in the room. As she dropped her satchel, he raised one eyebrow and without being able to fully react, felt her arms around him. She proclaimed quickly that she had missed him. "Why? What am I to you?" he questioned, knowing full well that he meant nothing to her, that she didn't care at all. He pulled her arms away none-too-delicately, took a few steps back and regarded her as if she had absolutely no right to touch him so intimately. "If you'll excuse me, I'm hungry, and you're blocking my way," he continued, his voice cold.

[D'rorah Philosophy]

The cold manner in which Dylan had said yes had been the first blow, but it had glanced off, so absorbed was D'rorah in the wonder of seeing him again finally. The next statement however, coupled with being forcibly pulled away from him was like the hard, accurate swing of a sledgehammer.

"Why? What am I to you?"

And not a moment later, "If you'll excuse me, I'm hungry, and you're blocking my way,"

... as though he didn't want to see her, couldn't be bothered to spare even a hello for her. She had spent hours hoping for nothing more than Dylan's return, thinking that seeing him again would finally restore her to the way she had been before. "[blue]But I...[/blue]" her mind, still reeling, fought to find words. She could feel her heart, splintering like a pane of glass just before it shattered. She could almost feel the spidery veins spreading out, and knew it wouldn't take much more than a glancing blow to finish the job. "[blue]I searched. I looked everywhere for you. I could not sleep or eat... and... you are finally back...[/blue]" she fought for breath to finish her sentence, her lungs momentarily refusing to cooperate with her, "[blue]and you cannot spare a moment away from your supper for a hello?[/blue] She could feel tears welling behind her as a vice tightened around her heart. She held up her hand, the ring she had recieved from him the night of the Valentine's Dance--a night that had seemed so perfect and now seemed like another lifetime entirely--featured prominently on the finger where he had placed it. It had not been removed from that finger since that night. A promise... that was what he had called it.

"[blue]You are my soul, my heart,[/blue]" she answered, finding honesty her only resort in response to his cruel rebuff of what he was to her. "[blue]And even that is only the beginning of it. If you are so hungry, we could go to dinner together,[/blue]" she suggested. The thought of dinners with Dylan recalled pleasant quiet nights in the kitchens together, nights when he had pulled her from her studies or the various other stresses of her life to ensure that she ate properly. She clung to those past memories of normalcy desperately. Perhaps she had caught him at a bad moment. Perhaps he was just in a foul mood at the moment. No one she had spoken to in trying to track him down had mentioned anything about his mood having changed, so she had no idea where to categorize this sudden anomaly.

She refused to back away, to force herself any further away from him than he had already done. Perhaps he was teasing her? He had enjoyed teasing her from time to time before. Right now and in this manner seemed unduly cruel, but certainly he didn't mean it that way. Certain she was quite mistaken about his whole demeanor, having rationalized in her head that he must be relieved to see her--because that was the only explanation that made sense considering how elated she had been to see him again, she made another attempt, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a kiss. She had spared moments in the search for him where the back of her mind was a play of how their reunion would play out. This was far from what she had envisioned in those spare moments of self indulgence that had been all she had to keep her going. But this kiss was nothing that she had hoped for, the reaction was nothing her heart was prepared for. And, receiving a full-force gale where the slightest breeze would have done, the splintered body of her heart shattered like a pane of glass in a storm.

[Dylan Cooper]

His eyes as hard as agates, he listened to her stammer out a few words. Pulling his eyes away from D'rorah, they flicked to the wall over her shoulder in annoyance. As she continued, a small sound was emitted from within his throat and his jaw tightened. "I don't have to answer to you, not anymore," he replied, his eyes narrowed. "While I... appreciate your enormous capability to locate me even when I reside only in St Mungo's, I do believe my priorities are in due order. I am really very hungry." The idea that she was claiming to have suffered in his absence, neither able to sleep nor eat, was badly negated by the fact that she must not have wanted to find him that badly. "So close, so open for finding. You must either be a very bad telepath, or have not wanted or tried to find me at all."

Searching for a way for her to move, to cease from blocking his way, his annoyance had drifted into the reaches of anger. As she raised one hand, revealing the band around the ring finger, Dylan's eyes shifted upward. His demeanor was not aided by her next words. "Clearly, I am nothing to you, and believe me it is quite returned. Now that you've reminded me, I'd also like my ring back," he continued, his voice not losing that cold tone that he was reserving only for her at this point.

He was caught entirely off-guard as she pulled him into her arms again and laid her lips upon his. Pulling back roughly, he glowered at her with dangerous eyes. "What the hell is wrong with you? You are nothing to me, D'rorah Philosophy, nothing. What have I got to do so that it'll sink into your head?" His tone and his expression showed more clearly than anything his disgust and pure distaste for the person standing before him. He regained himself slightly and glanced around the common room. "I don't believe I would like to be accompanied by you to dinner, either." With that, he stepped past her, taking no notice of whether or not she got in his way, and departed the room, headed for his evening meal in the Great Hall.

[D'rorah Philosophy]

It hadn't been too long before Dylan had disappeared that the two of them had realized the pull that Dylan had on her emotions. Likely, that was part of what had brought them together in the first place. Where she could be so dispassionate with others, Dylan caused her emotional control to falter just a bit. Not only that, but she tended to reflect his emotions. It had never failed to stress her when Dylan was distressed or depressed. And now, she could feel anger and hatred radiating like physical waves from him, threatening to send her into her own spiral of self loathing. He was right... she hadn't been able to find him. She should have tried harder, done more. Though, he was wrong about having been at St. Mungo's. She had checked and re-checked there numerous times... even so, she couldn't agree with his overall sentiment.

She felt suddenly as though she had never deserved him at all. This wasn't a new thought really, she'd always felt overly fortunate to have Dylan in her life, that fate must have finally seen fit to smile on her at least one ray of sunshine into her life. His rough pushing away, his harsh words felt like the heart beating in her chest was being physically ripped from her body and shredded before her eyes. She could feel the ravaged burn of every screaming nerve ending. He had even asked for his ring back. "[blue]But it was a promise...[/blue]" she managed weakly, the words feeling breathy and elusive as they left her mouth.

D'rorah could feel the unfamiliar sensation of wetness on her cheeks as she watched Dylan stride so coldly away from her. She stood for several minutes, watching after him even after the door had closed. Her fingers played at the ring he had asked her to return but had not taken. She wouldn't give it up so easily. It had been a promise for her as much as it had been one from him, and she wasn't willing to let go. She wondered what she could have possibly done to earn such disdain from Dylan... even though she had failed to find him, she felt that the punishment he was imposing on her was far greater than the crime. Cast adrift in the stormy seas of her own self doubt, she found no life raft to cling to, no island to which she could swim. Dylan had been her safe haven since they had met, the one person who always understood her mind and what she was going through, the one person who had made her feel as though somehow everything she had given up in the battle against the Mage would be worth it in the end. Now however, she felt as though she had no one and nothing. Normally, she would have simply launched herself into her research or some academic pursuit. As it was, she couldn't even find the desire to open another text. Carefully, she retrieved her bag from the floor and turned in the direction of her dormitory. Her steps were unsteady. The hope that had helped her push through the sleepless nights and days, the sustenance that had nurtured her when she had neglected actual food, had suddenly evaporated. It was a monumental effort to make her way up the stairs to her dormitory.

Gingerly, she packed her satchel into her trunk, locked and charmed it shut. With the last of her will power, she laid down in her bed and pulled the covers to her chin, not bothering to remove her shoes or her robes. And so, finally pushed to the point where she could endure no further heartache or loss, she cried herself to sleep, her tears soaking through her pillow and her sleep coming in fits and starts. She didn't know how long she stayed there. Vaguely, she was aware of the sounds of her dorm mates moving about the room, coming and going. By her estimation, she lay there for several days, not caring what might be happening in the world beyond the curtains surrounding her bed. She slept and slept, waking many times to the familiar nightmares... but somehow even those horrors paled in comparison to this most recent loss. When she could not sleep, she simply lay there with her eyes closed and waited until sleep would come again.

[Dylan Cooper]

Dylan's temper had been rising too fast that night for him to have fully carried out his intended plans. It had been rather spur-of-the-moment, but he had really wanted that ring back; she no longer had the right to it, in his opinion. After he had eaten in the Great Hall, he had gone back to the common room to search for the other prefect and found her missing. She had also been absent from the library and any of her classes since. Not particularly caring, but rather more concerned for that ring, he was getting agitated. She had hounded him for almost a week when he had originally gotten back, and just when he wanted to encounter her in the hallways or pass her in the common room, she was nowhere to be seen. Typical.

Before he had left the common room that night, she had muttered that the band had been a promise. She was quite right of course, it had been. But Dylan Cooper no longer held those feelings for D'rorah, quite the opposite in fact. And so, the promise was no longer valid. When he had given it the night of the ball, he had been under the altogether false impression that she might have loved him, that she cared about him, that a promise like that was actually good for something. But none of it was real. She had used him, never actually caring about him at all, and now she was keeping that ring for her own selfish reasons. He didn't know if she intended to sell it or simply use it to try and blackmail him into feeling what she had deceived him into feeling before; either way, he didn't like it one bit, and certainly wouldn't tolerate it.

He could tell that perhaps he should be feeling more hurt than anything that she would abuse him like that... toy with his emotions needlessly. But all it did was make him angry. Angry that he had exposed his very soul to someone who had not returned it, that everything he had been through with her had meant nothing. She had laughed at his foolishness behind his back, and he had remained oblivious, trapped by his feelings into believing the very best of her. D'rorah Philosophy deserved absolutely no less than she was getting at the moment; if, that was, she was even feeling real pain. More likely, she was just upset that he had finally realised.

The idea of it all sent him into absolute waves of indignation as he wove his way up the castle. He had just finished his last class of the day, receiving a bit of homework from Transfiguration to add to his current workload. He waited briefly for a particular staircase to finally meander onto the path he wanted, then ascended it and made his way down the corridor to Ravenclaw House. He hitched his bag more fully onto his shoulder and finally reached the brass knocker. Answering the riddle quickly, he stepped inside and regretfully moved past his favourite leather chair before the fire, instead moving over to a small table by the window so that he could see D'rorah should she pass through. Taking up one of the two wooden chairs on either side of the table, he pulled his Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook from his satchel as well as a piece of parchment and writing materials. The parchment was filled halfway with his neat writing, and he quickly re-read the last few sentences before dipping his feather quill into the inkwell and continuing on with his essay.

[D'rorah Philosophy]

D'rorah had felt it as she lay in bed all week. Dylan had been searching for her, but not, as she would have hoped, for the purpose of actually speaking to her. No, he was only concerned with the return of his property. She didn't delve into his mind for that small fact; she didn't have to. The thought was so loud and angry that , once she it had brushed against her consciousness, she couldn't avoid it. It had taken her days to recover enough from the shock of their first encounter to even consider doing anything as ambitious as sitting up. She had waited until the other girls had cleared out of the dormitories for classes before sneaking herself to the showers and cleaning herself up, grimacing at her appearance in the mirror. The dark circles under her eyes had dissipated somewhat form sleep, but she looked heartbroken, and she still looked malnourished... the sleep had done nothing for her appetite.

The shower helped a bit, reviving her. She had very carefully groomed herself, shocked to see upon looking in the mirror for the first time since before Dylan's disappearance, that nearly all of her hair had finally given way to grey. Her cheeks were sunken and hollow, her previously lean form now appearing gaunt. She abandoned her favored royal blue robes for all-concealing black only to find that the contrast with her painfully pale, wan figure made her look like she had escaped from a death camp. But then, her appearance didn't matter.

She spent the next day meditating, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy within her own mind, but always at the edge were Dylan's insistent thoughts about the return of the ring. She had by no means reconciled herself to life without him, but she desperately wanted peace from his anger directed at her constantly as he searched and waited for her. Finally unable to withstand his toxic thoughts any longer, D'rorah decided it would be best to return the ring for now. Perhaps that would earn her some peace in which to find perspective on this issue... perhaps it would soothe Dylan's anger enough that she might be able to eventually learn what had actually happened.

She knew he was sitting in the common room. His malice as he sat facing the door, waiting to see her, was tangible to her. Gathering every bit of composure she could muster, she began a slow descent down the stairs. She didn't want to do this... she held out hope that all of this was just another nightmare from which she might one day awaken. Unfortunately, there was to be no relief. She reached the door and took a deep breath, opening the way into the common room. Without looking to either side, she walked straight toward Dylan, already feeling her tension increasing, feeling as though another torrent of tears might start at any moment.

She approached the table at which he sat, unable to meet his eyes as she approached for fear of having to endure his hateful stare for too long. She finally reached the table, standing before it rather than taking a seat. "[blue]I do not know what I have done to earn such cruelty,[/blue]" she spoke quietly as she slipped his ring from her finger. Placing it on the table underneath her cupped palm, she spoke again. "[blue]All I have wanted since I met you was your happiness. So, if this makes you happy, you are welcome to it.[/blue]" She met his eyes as she spoke these last words, searching any hint of compassion or love that might linger. But there seemed to be nothing there of the love which had once been so strong between them. D'rorah's throat tightened, and it was all she could do to keep the tears from falling again. Promising herself this would be the last time she gazed upon those eyes, the eyes which had always been so warm and full of love her her, she pulled her gaze and her hand away, leaving the last piece of her heart on the table in that last token of Dylan's love she was being forced to leave behind.

"[blue]I do still love you,[/blue]" she whispered quietly, her eyes squeezing shut as the words slipped from her lips to dam back the tears. Knowing she would be unable to bear anymore, she turned and headed back in the direction of the dormitories, stopping to talk to no one. She once again pulled herself up the stairs and quietly organized the things within her trunk. With the last of her composure, she wrote a series of letters and included them within her trunk... instructions for what to do with the contents... texts for Cavan, research results for fighting methods and chants divided between Wysteria and Keaira. A bulk of her research for Kerridon, and everything else neatly parsed out to the Lightfighter she thought would receive the most good from it. Then, charming it so that it could only be opened by a fellow Lightfighter, she lay back down in her bed, drawing the curtains of her four-poster closed before carefully arranging herself beneath her duvet. A body could not live long without a heart, and D'rorah had left hers behind on that table in the common room. And so, she closed her eyes, waiting for death and hoping it would be merciful. It would probably take days, maybe weeks before she finally passed on... but she was patient. She would wait quietly.

[Dylan Cooper]

Many students were passing through the common room, but none were the one he was searching for. A lot of Ravenclaws ascended their dormitory stairs with satchels, and came back down without them. Others took to the spare chairs or couches and withdrew textbooks or Exploding Snap card packs; a pair of sixth year students had even taken up a game of chess on a nearby table. By the time D'rorah finally emerged, Dylan had nearly completed his essay. His eyes hardened slightly as she approached the small, round table at which he sat.

Standing, not sitting, beside him, she began to speak quietly. His jaw clenched slightly and he cocked one eyebrow, not bothering to conceal either movement should they be visible to her. The only merit he could hope to gain out of this encounter appeared to be forthcoming as she took his ring from her finger and placed it before him. The idea that she would have to say he was welcome to his own ring nagged slightly at his temper. As he chanced a glance up and was unwillingly met with her gaze, Dylan saw her pull away and take her hand with her. His eyes flicked back to the ring and he took it in one hand from the table.

At her last words, he couldn't help but comment. "You never loved me, and never deserved what I considered love on my part. The fact that you would call me welcome to my own property, however, would indicate that you are not as smart as you believe either, D'rorah Philosophy." His tone and eyes were scathing, though she would not see the latter with her own eyes closed as they were. Tucking the ring into one pocket as she left the common room, Dylan folded away his parchment and stacked it, along with his other things, back into his satchel.

That done, he did not wish for any further contact with the other Ravenclaw prefect, and took his studies with him to the Great Hall. It would still have a few students in it, getting in some homework before dinner began, and he would join them. The library being quite out of the question, despite the fact that she had not been headed there, he was rather annoyed that because of her faults, he had to go to all the effort of avoiding her. Thinking it over, he supposed that perhaps instead of expending so much effort, he should go about his business as usual, and if she happened to interfere or be around, she should suffer all the more for it. Confirming that new course of action, he proceeded nevertheless to the Great Hall, already having left Ravenclaw house and made it down one staircase.