Post by Dominic Hywel Evans on Jan 25, 2019 13:34:03 GMT -5
((OOC: I hope you do not mind me assuming that Dominic would have visited the hospital wing often enough to know that the matron is Welsh and speaks the language? If you do I will change it. Obvuously, I am typing it out in English rather than Welsh so everyone knows what is going on.))
((OOC: Dominic's outfit. But pink ))
Potions was always a dangerous subject, especially if you were someone who was easily distracted and more than a bit hyperactive. Nevertheless, Dominic loved potions, it was one of his favourite lessons. Well, of course, that could be said of most subjects in school. The young Gryffindor was someone that enjoyed almost every subject. Apart from History of Magic, which was very dull in his opinion, ad the dark arts, a subject that the blond haired boy found to be very scary. It was the only class that he truly dreaded doing and wished that he could just drop it. Sometimes, it gave him nightmares.
That, however, was the least of the worries of the 12-year-old now, his lack of concentration in potions had just lead to disaster for him. The Welsh Gryffindor was not paying attention during potions class and failed to follow his instructions correctly. This had led to the potion he was meant to be brewing exploding in his face and turning his entire body, head to toe, bright fluorescent pink. This caused the whole class to burst out laughing at him. Well, most of the class. He supposed that he should be grateful that the lesson was with Hufflepuffs, some of which were laughing but others were concerned about him, as well as some of his housemates.
Regardless, the laughter didn’t help his humiliation, and the painful stinging sensation that was now slowly sweeping over his body was causing him to tear up a bit. He fought hard not to start crying, but it was clear that Dominic was on the edge of doing so.
He attempted to rub the pinkness from his skin, but it wouldn’t go. It seemed to be stuck onto him. It was not that his skin had actually turned pink, but it seemed to be clinging onto him like some kind of paste that wasn’t coming off. At all. A bit of panic was starting to set him, his distress not being helped by the fact that he was being laughed at, or otherwise pestered by so many other people. While the hyperactive youngster didn’t usually mind being the centre of attention, this felt a bit different. It felt a lot more unpleasant and more upsetting than usual.
The Professor came over to the youngster and tutted. After telling off the lion cub for being so foolish, they sent Dominic to see the matron. Before his friends, Henry and Liz could offer to go with him, the Gryffindor lad told the teacher that he could go by himself. His pride was injured enough as it was and the last thing that the little lad wanted was to be humiliated even further if he started crying on the way to the hospital wing. And boy, did he feel like crying.
It was the combination of the pain that he was in, and the embarrassment he felt at being turned bright pink. He didn’t want to be with anyone, and he would rather just get cured. It was clear that the second year was not his usual happy go lucky self.
Dominic made his way to the hospital wing, wiping the tears from his eyes as he wandered in. ”Nurse” he spoke in the Welsh language to Asteria Greengrass . The Welsh Gryffindor was a pretty frequent visitor to the hospital wing, given how he was a bit of a daredevil, so he knew that the nurse was a fellow Welsh person. Although he was only second language Welsh, unlike his cousins, his language skills were still solid. Dommie could still hold a decent conversation in Welsh ”…matron?” he called out again in Welsh, walking towards one of the beds. The youngster hoped that the nurse would come shortly. He really was starting to feel a bit sick from the pain, on top of everything else. Plus he didn’t want to be pink forever. The blond lad knew, just knew, that everyone now would be calling him pink boy. He was already dreading going back to the common room once he was cured. The poor second year would never live this down.
((OOC: Dominic's outfit. But pink ))
Potions was always a dangerous subject, especially if you were someone who was easily distracted and more than a bit hyperactive. Nevertheless, Dominic loved potions, it was one of his favourite lessons. Well, of course, that could be said of most subjects in school. The young Gryffindor was someone that enjoyed almost every subject. Apart from History of Magic, which was very dull in his opinion, ad the dark arts, a subject that the blond haired boy found to be very scary. It was the only class that he truly dreaded doing and wished that he could just drop it. Sometimes, it gave him nightmares.
That, however, was the least of the worries of the 12-year-old now, his lack of concentration in potions had just lead to disaster for him. The Welsh Gryffindor was not paying attention during potions class and failed to follow his instructions correctly. This had led to the potion he was meant to be brewing exploding in his face and turning his entire body, head to toe, bright fluorescent pink. This caused the whole class to burst out laughing at him. Well, most of the class. He supposed that he should be grateful that the lesson was with Hufflepuffs, some of which were laughing but others were concerned about him, as well as some of his housemates.
Regardless, the laughter didn’t help his humiliation, and the painful stinging sensation that was now slowly sweeping over his body was causing him to tear up a bit. He fought hard not to start crying, but it was clear that Dominic was on the edge of doing so.
He attempted to rub the pinkness from his skin, but it wouldn’t go. It seemed to be stuck onto him. It was not that his skin had actually turned pink, but it seemed to be clinging onto him like some kind of paste that wasn’t coming off. At all. A bit of panic was starting to set him, his distress not being helped by the fact that he was being laughed at, or otherwise pestered by so many other people. While the hyperactive youngster didn’t usually mind being the centre of attention, this felt a bit different. It felt a lot more unpleasant and more upsetting than usual.
The Professor came over to the youngster and tutted. After telling off the lion cub for being so foolish, they sent Dominic to see the matron. Before his friends, Henry and Liz could offer to go with him, the Gryffindor lad told the teacher that he could go by himself. His pride was injured enough as it was and the last thing that the little lad wanted was to be humiliated even further if he started crying on the way to the hospital wing. And boy, did he feel like crying.
It was the combination of the pain that he was in, and the embarrassment he felt at being turned bright pink. He didn’t want to be with anyone, and he would rather just get cured. It was clear that the second year was not his usual happy go lucky self.
Dominic made his way to the hospital wing, wiping the tears from his eyes as he wandered in. ”Nurse” he spoke in the Welsh language to Asteria Greengrass . The Welsh Gryffindor was a pretty frequent visitor to the hospital wing, given how he was a bit of a daredevil, so he knew that the nurse was a fellow Welsh person. Although he was only second language Welsh, unlike his cousins, his language skills were still solid. Dommie could still hold a decent conversation in Welsh ”…matron?” he called out again in Welsh, walking towards one of the beds. The youngster hoped that the nurse would come shortly. He really was starting to feel a bit sick from the pain, on top of everything else. Plus he didn’t want to be pink forever. The blond lad knew, just knew, that everyone now would be calling him pink boy. He was already dreading going back to the common room once he was cured. The poor second year would never live this down.
