Closed A Bit Like Me

[Freddie Lagowski]

Freddie packed his pens away extra slowly, waiting for the classroom to clear. He was an expert at taking a long time to do an easy thing. In this case: dropping a pen lid, putting it back on the wrong way, realising he'd lost something, searching for it, discovering it was in his bag all along. Although dropping the pen lid was an accident; his hands were a bit shaky.

Maybe he should just go, he thought, as he zipped up his bag. But it wasn't that weird. People probably asked Professor Pirrip about his leg all the time. Kids didn't hold back when they knew there was something wrong with you - they wanted to know what, and why, and all the gory details. That was just it, though. What if Professor Pirrip was tired of people asking? What if he wished everyone would just shut up and go away? He limped all the time. He couldn't hide it. That was way worse than what Freddie had. The questions probably went on and on and on and on...

Crap - he was going into his office! Freddie slung his bag over his shoulder and hurried after him, catching the door. There he lingered awkwardly, still holding the handle, stunned by his own stupidity. Why had he chased him? He was supposed to ask him casually, on the way out! This was weird!
​

Godmod approved

 

[Professor Edward Pirrip]

Edward's leg pained him more than usual today, and he was keen to retreat to his office after finishing teaching the first years. So much so, he had barely checked that all of the students had left the classroom before leaving himself. He unlocked the office door and limped inside, only half aware that he hadn't heard the door click shut behind him. He was thinking about turning himself into his animagus form which was always more comfortable when his leg was bad, perhaps because he gained two extra legs to carry the burden. He looked back to the door and startled a little when he saw a student standing in the doorway. "Freddie!" he said, the surprise on his face softening into a strained but genuine smile. "Didn’t see you there. Come in, come in." He gestured the boy in, deciding against transforming now and instead easing himself down into his chair to give his leg the rest it craved.

 

[Freddie Lagowski]

Freddie almost startled too when Professor Pirrip noticed him, as if he'd been caught somewhere he wasn't allowed to be. He hesitated, still holding the door, wondering if he should just say he wanted some extra homework or something. But Professor Pirrip wouldn't believe that. Freddie barely did the stuff he was made to do.

Come on - you look dumb. Freddie let the door go. It shut heavily behind him. He went up to the desk, adjusting his bag on his shoulder, but didn't sit down. "Does your leg hurt?" he asked. Sometimes, when Freddie sat for ages and then stood up, he moved a bit like that - slowly, to make it hurt less. He tried to hide it, but sometimes you just couldn't. Professor Pirrip probably couldn't.​

 

[Professor Edward Pirrip]

Edward hesitated at the directness of the question. He’d half expected something like it from this particular student ever since he had been briefed on the situation, but perhaps he'd not expect the questions so bluntly nor so soon. The timing of the question lined up with an involuntary groan from Edward as he lowered himself into the chair, though he caught every word.

“Sometimes,” he said, the answer was only half true. He didn’t want to cause the boy any unnecessary concern after all. After a pause, he added more honestly, “Some days more than others.” That part was true, his knee pain was on a sliding scale between bad pain and unbearable. He preferred not to make it about him though, looking at Freddie and letting him stand if that was most comfortable. "And you. Are you managing classes okay?"

 

[Freddie Lagowski]

Sometimes like right now? It looked like it hurt right now. Could Freddie help? He wanted to, but he didn't know what to say, or if he should say anything. Professor Pirrip was a grownup - if he needed something, he'd probably just get it himself. That was sad though. Just because he was a grownup, didn't mean he shouldn't ask for help. But it wasn't Freddie's place...

The Ravenclaw shifted a little on his feet. The question felt like a spotlight. He didn't want to talk about himself. What did Professor Pirrip know, anyway? Probably something - but this thought worried Freddie more than it comforted him. He'd seen the old letters, from his elementary school. He knew what they said about him in there. In his file. Behind his back. The words were burned into his brain before he'd even understood them. They might have told Professor Pirrip: In view of this month's increased frequency of self-reported symptoms, we are concerned Freddie has developed a pattern of exaggerating discomfort...

Or maybe: We are sympathetic to Freddie's difficulties - however, they cannot serve as justification for disrupting the learning environment...

Or even: Care should be taken not to reinforce behaviours through emotional validation...

The letters were for his aunt. Freddie wasn't supposed to see them. But he had, and he knew, he knew how much his teachers hated him, he knew they thought he was lying, he knew they were told to ignore him, he knew! What if they'd told his professors here the same stuff? What if they didn't believe him? What if they said they did, but really, every time he was late for class, they were writing it down, looking for patterns?

He'd never lied about it. Ever.

"Yeah," Freddie said. "Classes are okay." He'd been late to a bunch already because he'd had to wait for his leg to work properly, but at least he was allowed to use the secret floo system. Although that was awkward too. He told people he was going to the bathroom, that he'd catch up with them in a minute, but it was weird, pretending to go before every class. It was embarrassing.

He took a deep breath. "I was wondering - if it's not rude... Why do you have a limp?"​

 

[Professor Edward Pirrip]

Edward noticed the shift in Freddie and twigged immeditely this was very much him coming with questions for Edward and not the other way around. Edward didn't reply right away. Not because he was offended, but because he was thinking. “Not rude,” he said gently shaking his head. “Not even a little.” He said to fill the pause, otherwise Freddie might think he was the one being rude. “Not many people ask about it to be honest, and if they're just being nosey I tell them I owed money to a goblin. But that's just something to get them off my back. No, I limp from an old curse. I went charging into something I thought I could handle and didn’t think it through. There’s a lesson in there somewhere, I’m sure of if.” His voice was calm, steady and honest. He wouldn't normally speak openly to a student, but Freddie was different. He'd suspected the boy had been itching to ask since week one, they had something in common after all.

 

[Freddie Lagowski]

Okay. Phew. Freddie was rude to a lot of teachers on purpose, but he didn't want to be rude to Professor Pirrip, even on accident. He was the only one who might get it. Not like how other teachers said they got it, then told Freddie off for slouching, or sighed at him because he wanted to go to the nurse. Professor Pirrip knew how he felt.

And he was nice. He was funny. Maybe Freddie could say that, when people found out - he owed money to a goblin. He smiled for a second, then slowly stopped. Professor Pirrip messed up? But he was a grownup. Grownups messed up? "Oh," said Freddie, turning the guitar pick over in his pocket. He didn't believe that. No-one told him that. They just told him he was stupid, he shouldn't have climbed the ladder, he should've listened to Susie. Like he didn't know it was his fault. Grownups didn't do dumb stuff like that. Did they?

Freddie squeezed the pick in his palm until it stung. His auntie told him it was a lesson once. That made him cry. He already learned his lesson, every day for years and years. Why couldn't he just be okay now? "People say that to you?" he asked. He knew Professor Pirrip was a bit like him, but... was it really his fault too?​

 

[Professor Edward Pirrip]

Edward’s expression remained soft and focused as he spoke to Freddie. The boy wasn’t saying much, but Edward could feel that Freddie was thinking more than he was talking. When Freddie asked if people said that to him, Edward gave a small, noncommittal nod, his gaze dropping for just a moment. “Not anymore thankfully,” he answered honestly. “But those are the comments that stuck with me.” He flinched slightly, adjusting how he was sitting to be more comfortable. His eyes found Freddie’s again. The boy was holding onto something but Edward couldn't say what it was, and wouldn't know if he didn't at least probe a little bit, “Do people say that to you?” Edward asked gently. The question was an offering to talk more than anything, if Freddie wanted it.

 

[Freddie Lagowski]

Not any more - that meant they did once. Did it make Professor Pirrip sad, too? Did it make him mad? It made Freddie mad. Even now. Even though it was ages ago, and his aunt said sorry, and he said he forgave her.

He started to shrug, but his shoulders didn't come all the way down again. "I fell off my roof," he said. "I wasn't supposed to climb, so - I wasn't supposed to be up there, but I just wanted to. And I didn't get hurt. I just got up. It didn't hurt - I had, like, two tiny bruises. But, inside-" Freddie reached a hand around his back- "it was... pushing on some nerves, and I didn’t know, and it hurt them really bad." Maybe Professor Pirrip knew about his leg, but he didn't know all that stuff - he didn’t know how it happened. Freddie didn’t like telling people. This time was different though. This teacher was listening to him, and he wanted to talk, he wanted to. “When I’m sitting, I get pins and needles, and then - burning. Or like, shocks. Like electric. Sometimes it hurts alot. Sometimes I can’t really - walk. My aunt was mad at me, ‘cause it could’ve probably been worse, but…” Freddie didn’t know how to put the rest in words. All the stuff he felt inside. It just felt like a big knot in the middle of his chest. He looked down at the desk, pulling his hands inside his sleeves. “Yeah.”​

 

[Professor Edward Pirrip]

Edward listened closely. Freddie had behaved like a normal boy, climbing somewhere he shouldn't have and got hurt, yes it could have been worse, but from where Edward was sitting it sounded pretty bad on its own. Especially for a child Freddie's age, especially when he hadn't truly been understood by his family. He nodded slowly, letting the story settle. “Thank you for telling me. That sounds incredibly painful.” Edward replied, because he hadn't known the full story, just what Matt had briefed all the professors with. "I don’t think your aunt was mad at you. I think she was frightened of losing you. Adults aren’t always great at seeing our children hurt, especially when we can't do anything to help." He said as a way of hoping to comfort, briefly imagining something like that happening to Teddy and how he would feel scared and angry at the situation. It wasn't helpful though and he had to shake the thought out of his mind. He looked straight at Freddie, “It's even more difficult to understand when that pain isn’t visible. But what matters is you understand it, and you take care of yourself the best way you can.” He then added, "With support from us of course."

 

[Freddie Lagowski]

Thank you for telling me. Freddie shifted on his feet, suddenly feeling small. He wasn't sure what he'd wanted Professor Pirrip to say, but that made the knot even tighter. Did he talk too much? Did Professor Pirrip want him to stop? He was still saying nice stuff, but it was just nice stuff - it wasn't true. His aunt wasn't scared of losing him. Probably didn't want him around very much in the first place. Freddie was annoying - he was always annoying, even before he fell off the roof. He shouted a lot and threw stuff and hit things, and he never did what he was told. Why would she care?

He balled his hands up inside his sleeves, then realised how nervous he looked and made himself relax. "Okay," he said. He didn't really understand, but he had to say something. Wouldn't it be better if people just listened? Why couldn't they just listen? Why did he have to take care of himself? He hesitated, fiddling with the strap of his bag, trying to work out what Professor Pirrip meant. "What support?"​