May 1st, 1891 - GCR
Cameron Gillenwater

Sloane had been asleep in bed when Splash came bounding into the four-poster with such enthusiasm that Sloane squeaked in surprise and dropped her transfiguration text book onto the floor. She winced and looked around the dimly lit room, but she didn't hear anyone say anything. Breathing out a sigh of relief, she watched as Splash sauntered back out the door.

"Oh no you don't," She hissed at the cat, scrambling into her house slippers, in her housecoat, hair loose over her shoulders. It was later than she realized, but she also hadn't anticipated getting all the way to the common room before catching the cat. The last thing she needed was for Splash to get up to mischief in the boys' dorm when they were already stressing OWLs.

Snatching the large fluffball around the middle, Sloane scooped her up and turned to head back up to the dorm when she noticed a familiar figure in the common room. "Cam?" She questioned as she moved toward the fireplace.

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Things were not going well.

Since his fight with Alice Cameron had pushed all thoughts of his hopes and dreams out of his mind for the sake of stubbornness, but now hat OWLs were less than a month away they all came flooding back to mind. He didn't want to be a failure. Even if quidditch-playing required only enough NEWT classes to keep him in school, he did not want it to be his only calling in life. Quidditch was not a lifelong career, and even if he went into the Ministry in the Department of Magical Games and Sports—would that really be fulfilling if it was his only choice?

He already knew the answer.

And yet, there was only so much knowledge he could recover and store in one month's time. He sat in the common room, in the farthest corner where no one could hear, so late at night that everyone else had gone to bed, and he cried, his sobs smothered by the hands he'd pressed against his face.

He was not sure how long he'd been crying for, but it stopped abruptly the moment he heard her.

"Sloane," he responded, immediately startled by how congested he sounded. "Yes—I'm here."

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Sloane briefly looked down at the large cat in her arms with a suspicious eyebrow. It wouldn't be the first time Splash had led one friend to another...

With one last scratch behind the ears, she left the behemoth of a fluff ball to her own devices and shuffled across the room toward Cameron. This was the last thing she'd expected to find down here in the common room after what was apparently well-past midnight. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen the common room so quiet or deserted.

"What's wrong?" The alarm was clear on her sleepy features as she tossed her hair back over her shoulder and sat down next to him, closer than she would have at any other time of day, but thought they were rather safe at the moment.

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On so many occasions he'd told himself he couldn't bear to cry in front of her. It wasn't what was done, boys crying in front of girls, let alone ones they liked. But time and time again, through conflict between the two of them and through external turmoil, he'd failed to keep his tears to himself.

He hastily wiped the streaks of tears from his face before he looked up at her, but there was no hiding the puffiness of his eyes and the redness of his nose. He knew better than to try and hide things from her; it never worked out well, anyways.

"I can't do it," he said, looking down at the books that surrounded him. "I'm going to fail, I'm never going to be a healer, I'm never going to do anything except fly around on a stupid broom until I'm twenty-five and then live in miserable poverty." The words came out in a quiet, slurred string, but his anguish was apparent.

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Frowning slightly, she had sort of suspected it might have something to do with school, based on the time and the fact that he was surrounded by books, but she hadn't thought him this close to having a breakdown.

She sighed slowly, bringing one hand up to his cheek, looking up at him with a soft expression. Gently she wiped away a stray tear with her thumb. Now was not the time for her usual tough love approach. "You can do this." Sloane motioned to the books with her other hand. The only thing she wasn't really sure about was Potions. The rest he could do. She had faith that he could get all of the OWLs he needed aside from Potions. Then they could worry about NEWTs.

Sloane passed him a tentative smile. "I'm going to be the one on a broom until I'm twenty-five,"  Or longer. Well, maybe. She was wavering on her quidditch decision, but that was neither here nor there. Seeing him so distraught right now was what still gave her pause; this could very easily be her next year, except the stakes were not quite so high for her. She knew which classes to focus on and which ones to cut her losses in.

"How can I help?" She could get him through Transfiguration and Creatures, the rest she was just as rubbish at, if not worse than he was, but she would try.

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He sniffled as she wiped a tear away, caught off guard by the sudden tenderness after having been so deprived of affection. He leaned into her hand, and wished he could do more (but then again, she probably would not want to kiss him while he was so snotty and covered in tearstains).

She was too good to him—better than he deserved. It was times like this that things were easier for them: that they were older, more independent, and able to be in each other's presence without having to worry about the rest of the student body lingering about. He wanted to lean into her, wrap his arms around her as tight as he could, and just be.

But he couldn't. His gaze trailed down to his books, which were scattered about and no use at this time of night anyways. He'd worked himself to such a point where he couldn't dream of comprehending any of the concepts. It was no use.

"Just... be here with me," he said quietly, feeling a little like a baby for making such a request but knowing that frustration is the only thing that would come—from both of them—if they tried to study here in the dark.

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For tonight, that was probably the best course of action. It was far too late, he was far too upset and she needed time to get some kind of plan together to get him to focus long enough to get through these exams without losing it completely. She'd probably have to gently coerce the rest of their friends to help her, but she didn't think that would be too hard. The wheels were already turning, but she could hold off until tomorrow.

"Alright," She assured him with another soft smile, running her thumb along his cheek once more before dropping it to lace her fingers with his. Sloane had half a mind to distract him in a different manner but wasn't so sure they could take that chance even if everyone else was most likely asleep upstairs.

Getting comfortable on the seat with him, she drew her legs up next to her and rested her head on his shoulder. If she could guarantee nobody would come downstairs or in through the portrait hole she probably would have just curled up in his lap, but that was pushing it a little.

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