The past two days had not been good ones for Holly. She'd been admitted to the hospital wing two nights before for a lousy illness, and a magical one at that! Her skin—and then her hair, nails, and any part of her visible body—had begun shifting shades. Peeves had even had the nerve to send her and Seneca in the air, leaving the poor Miss Borgin to get them down (rather roughly, in Holly's case). Though others had been permitted to return to classes, Holly had all but demanded she stay to get better, now suffering from sore knee and shoulder from where Miss Borgin had dropped her!

Grouchy-faced and with her arms crossed against her chest, Holly finally made her venture out into the corridors once more. There didn't seem to be anyone around (it was nearing the curfew), but there did seem to be a few giggles here and there. She walked slowly (her poor knees could barely handle her weight!) and quietly, only looking up to cast unfriendly glances at those who passed.

Upon reaching the staircase, she went to take a step, but... well... she was stuck! Letting out a crackly huff, Holly tried to pick up her foot once more, but it was seemingly attached the floor. Her head whipped around just in time to catch sight of an unidentifiable person darting away. Her face, having just returned to its peachy state, was now red once again—but this time in anger. All she wanted to do was go to her dorm and go to sleep!

"I will murder you!" she screeched, stomping her one good foot loud enough for it to echo. Alone and upset, Holly tried her hardest to keep tears (angry ones, not sad ones, she would insist) from falling.