Charlie D. Weasley

Outside, cleaning up from final class
Maybe there is something to be said for Flubberworms. Granted, they don't do much, but that much doesn't include scratching at the arm of a fourth year. I warned them enough times, more than enough. I'm sure I did. Maybe I should have said it one more time? Or maybe if I had been a bit louder when I spoke? Perhaps I should have inspected them all individually? Then, I would have seen the bracelet and made her put it away, or give it to me.

During their last class I informed them that they were to leave all jewelry, anything that was shiny, in their dorm rooms. I had asked them at the beginning of class today to check and make sure they hadn't accidentally brought anything. Everyone told me they were clean and I was daft enough to listen.

When I heard her screaming, every worst case scenario went through my mind. While Nifflers aren't exactly known for tearing someone to shreds, that one in particular, the one that had devoted itself to tearing the bracelet off of the girls wrist, wasn't doing much to make the girl believe it was a harmless ball of fur.

After I rushed her to the Hospital Wing myself, Madame Pomfrey healed her scratches before I had even finished telling what had happened. I felt like a student again with slightly admonishing tone she used toward me for treating the student's scratches like a medical emergency. To her it may have been a simple case of a few scratches, but one of my students was injured.

How Hagrid was ever able to introduce some of the creatures he taught about is beyond me. From what Ron and a few of he other students have told me in the past, Hagrids passion for these creatures overshadowed any logic that would have shown him that none of his students had the type of size he had. And not all of them shared the same instinct or enthusiasm for certain creatures.

I know injury is unavoidable, especially in a class which deals with living creatures, but it's different on this side. When I was a student, part of me thought I could attract certain girls if I became injured. The helpless, injured victim routine that seems to become a part of many adolescent boys' repertoire. Now, even the smallest cut seems incredibly important and requiring of direct attention.

It's almost the same way I feel about my brothers and sister. Growing up, I would have done anything to make sure they were safe. Every time they were injured, I tried to do everything I could to make them well again; then do even more to prevent any injury from happening again. I realize that, just like with my family, I need to learn to accept that people are going to be injured; be it by their own ignorance or because of an accident. Anytime to combine children with sharp teeth, claws, poison or fire, it's useless to hope for everyone to come out unscathed.

Plus, it's the teeth, claws, poison and fire that make up the interesting creatures.

Current Mood: restless