Slowly Rowan made her way through the dungeons and upstairs to the Great Hall with the aid of her friends. The instant they arrived in the Great Hall, Tiffany, Silvia, and Bethanie gathered piping hot tea and soft things for her to eat like a bread roll. (There is no issue in eating other food, but when one is in severe pain eating food is the least of one's worries).
"This will settle your stomach and at least warm it up a bit, hon," Bethanie cooed handing Rowan the first of several cups of tea.
"Thank you," Rowan gratefully sipped the warm tea.
"I can lend you my stomach warmer," Silvia whispered. "But we are not allowed to carry them around during class."
"Chauvinist pigs," Rowan growled under her breath.
"I think someone has a bit of a temper, this morning," Tiffany mumbled under her breath.
"Really?" Rowan murmured as moisture for some odd reason began to gather in the corners of her eye. This is accompanied by a strange welling up inside her chest. Was it not enough that she already has so much on her plate and now this?!
Tiffany gazes at Rowan in horror while Bethanie hurriedly smoothed things over. "What she means to say," Bethanie paused to shoot Tiffany a pointed glare. "That you are just a smidgeon tense, but that is perfectly normal since it is the first day of the exams. We are all just as nervous."
"Maybe," Rowan sniffed blinking out the moisture of her eyes. Luckily, she did not actually cry. "I bloody hate all of this! It's just not fair!" She huffed.
"Of course, it isn't," Bethanie sighed, "but that's life for you."
Silvia thoughtfully hands Rowan another cup of tea. "Now drink up, it'll help with the pain."
Rowan obediently does as she is told at which point Severus and Terry arrive. "You look a bit wane this morning, Rowan," Terry said. "You alright?"
"Don't I look alright?" Rowan snapped causing Terry to blink in surprise.
Bethanie hurriedly intervenes, "She's just feeling a bit unwell today."
"Okay," Terry warily leaned away from Rowan giving her a wide berth.
Unconvinced, Severus leans closer. "Are you alright?" He worriedly asked.
Trying to keep the interchanging emotions inside her under control, Rowan takes a deep breath. "I am just not feeling very well this morning, Sev. I'll feel better after I stop by the infirmary," she honestly confessed.
Severus worriedly leans over and touches Rowan's forehead with the back of his hand. "You don't have a temperature, but you seem a bit pale. A bad headache, Rowan?"
"More like a stomachache," Silvia muttered under her breath.
"Did you eat something that made you ill?" Severus frowned as he reluctantly pulled his hand away.
"No," Rowan flatly responded, but she wished that was the case.
Glancing at the time, Severus worriedly frowned. "It's getting late. I don't think you will have enough time to visit the infirmary before the start of the first exam, Rowan."
"No, I won't," Rowan dejectedly replied. "I will have to wait until after the first exam."
Seeing Rowan so unwell, Severus leans closer to Bethanie to whisper, "Is Rowan that unwell? She's never gotten sick much less a stomachache."
"It's most certainly nerves," Tiffany lied. "Rowan will right as rain soon enough," she truthfully added.
Still unconvinced Severus keeps an eye on Rowan for the rest of the morning. His worry increases at witnessing the slow pace at which his twin sister moves. A few times, he thought Rowan is going to collapse as they make their way to their first exam. Thankfully, they somehow make it to their classroom.
Their first practical exam commences under the watchful eye of Professor McGonagall. They had all been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell. The classroom is sweltering with heat making it difficult for many of the first-years. What is normally an annoyance, the sweltering heat helps with some of the pain. However, her cramps don't lessen making her almost hunch over her desk in pain.
Truthfully speaking, Rowan can't remember what she jotted down for the exam. Frankly, she didn't care either as long as she was excused. Somehow she is the first one done and staggers out of the classroom. Her limbs feel heavy and tired.
Time seems to slow down as the long winding corridors seem to be never-ending. Seems to be turning about when she reaches the staircase leading to the infirmary when a pail of cold water is poured all over her. The cramps intensified even more causing her to gasp in pain.
Breathing harshly, Rowan raises her gaze at the culprit. Sticking his tongue at her, Peeves snickers, "Now you're all wet!"
Something snaps inside Rowan as a dark expression appears on her face. "Fair's fair," she warned and points her wand at him. "Skurge!" Peeves let out a pig squeal and darted away as though his arse was on fire.
"I should have done that since the beginning," Rowan huffed, before casting the Hot-Air charm, a neat little spell she had learned from Wilkes.
At the thought of Wilkes, Rowan tenses slightly as a billow of hot air poured out of her wand. She steadily moves the wand over her hair and clothes to dry them evenly. Wilkes had been odd as of late as though he was at war with himself. Sometimes he was just Wilkes and other times he seemed like an entirely different person.
Abruptly Rowan sneezes causing her to almost kneel over in pain as her stomach painfully contracts. She doesn't know how, but somehow, she manages to finish drying herself. Feeling weak, she clings to the wall and manages to arrive at the infirmary after what seemed like an eternity.
It is the first time, Rowan is happy with the billows of Madam Pomfrey's dress. "Oh dear," Madam Pomfrey said, before preparing the nearest available linen bed. "Rest dear, I'll have you right as rain in just a jiff."
Exhausted to the bone Rowan gratefully climbs onto the bed and curls up into a fetal position trying to put alleviate some of the pain. Soon after, Madam Pomfrey appears with a peppermint-smelling draught. "This will take away the worst of the pain and the swelling," Madam Pomfrey instructed.
With great pleasure, Rowan downs the peppermint-tasting potion. Immediately after a warm feeling begins to spread in her stomach as the pain fades away to a dull ache. The ache is still there but it is bearable.
"I brought a couple more vials for you to take, dear," Madam Pomfrey handed Rowan the vials. "These should last you until your cycle is done. Only one can be taken each day for the pain, no more," she sternly warned. "And in the future, should you run out, dear, I always keep a few extra on hand for just so an occasion."
"Of course, she would," Rowan reasonably thought. Madam Pomfrey is the infirmary matron it is part of the position. "Thank you, Matron Pomfrey."
"T'was my pleasure, my dear, that's what I'm here for. Now, you just rest for the moment and have a bit of a nap. The dosage I gave you was a bit stronger than the norm and you'll get a tad sleepy. I'll let your professors know in advance just in case should you arrive late to your next exam," Madam Pomfrey kindly said.
Rowan sleepily nods her head as Madam Pomfrey gently tucks her in and closes the linen curtains shut. After a nice, long nap, Rowan yawned and blinked away the sleep from her eyes. Feeling much better, she climbs out of bed and carefully stores the pain vials away. Grabbing a handful of sweets on her way out of the infirmary, she makes her way back upstairs to her next exam.
Due to bad luck, Rowan comes across Filch during one of his rounds. "And just what are you doing out of exams, Miss Prince?" Argus Filch eagerly inquired as his bulging pale eyes flickered with glee. "Trying to cheat, no doubt."
"No, sir," Rowan truthfully answered. "I was in the infirmary as I had a rather terrible stomachache." Reaching into her pocket, she holds out a vial filled with a silver, greenish potion.
Not yet quite the hunched man of the future nor rheumatic, Filch darts forward and snatches the vial out of her hand. Carefully uncorking it, he brings the vial to his rather pasty face. While Filch studies her potion, Rowan studies the caretaker of Hogwarts.
Filch's sunken cheeks denote his lack of sleep accompanied by a graying, thin hair. He does have a bit of a purple nose, but not quite as violet as in the future. His clothes are not yet patched nor have the smell of mothballs or mold. Despite being a tad too slender, Filch seems to still have some life in him.
Corking the draught, Filch reluctantly returns the vial. "Now off to exams with you, Miss Prince! No, sneaking about, you hear!"
"Yes, sir," Rowan obediently responded, but not before asking, "But may I first give Mrs. Norris a pat on the head?"
"What?" Filch squawked in disbelief.
"Well, I have thought Mrs. Norris is a right lovely creature. However, Mrs. Norris is most serious about fulfilling her ties, which I've never had a chance to do before. I thought maybe since you're here with her, you might let me for a minute or two," Rowan sincerely requested.
Filch eyes Rowan for a moment fighting against the urge to say no. "Fine, but only for a minute," he reluctantly acquiesced.
Gently kneeling on the ground, Rowan holds her hand out for Mrs. Norris to sniff. Seeing Mrs. Norris accept her hand, Rowan rubs Mrs. Norris behind her ears. Not even a minute later, Mrs. Norris is softly purring as a gentle look appeared in Filch's eyes.
After a few minutes, Filch clears his throat much to the profound disappointment of Mrs. Norris. "Now off you go," he shooed Rowan away with his hand.
"Thank you, sir," Rowan said, before giving Mrs. Norris one last scratch behind the ears, before hurrying off to her next exam. She is tardy as it is!
Argus Flinch sniffs with his lips curled in a suppressed smile watching the first-year girl rushing away. "I suppose there's even one good apple in a rotten barrel." Mrs. Norris meows in agreement as the two of them stomp off in search of unwary students. And lo behold, they did not need to search far before encountering an unsuspecting quarry.