September 24th, 1893 — Great Hall, Comfort Session for Students

Victoria hadn't lost anyone to the dragons in London, thankfully, but she knew Uncle Murdock and Aunt Merida had been involved in the relief efforts. So it only felt right that Victoria was involved in supporting her peers who had lost people. Though she was a Slytherin, she was definitely on the nicer end of the spectrum for the house of snakes — she had no real reason to be angsty, except maybe that she'd never be an auror like her uncle, but that was on her merit. She'd only gotten an A in Herbology. Not enough to justify continue the class.

Besides, she knew her parents would never allow her to go into the workforce.

Instead Victoria was expected to debut, become someone's wife. She had no idea what she was going to do with her life after that, but she would definitely find something. Didn't every socialite find something to do? Some were intellectual socialites, others were completely society focused. She'd never figured out what archetype her mother fell under.

Today wasn't about Victoria, though. No, today was about comforting those who'd lost people to the dragons. "I'm so sorry," she said softly, as she sat down next to someone. She could tell they'd been crying. "I'm not going to say I understand, because...well, I don't. But I want to help. Apple scone?" From any other Slytherin, that would be an alien sounding statement — but this was Victoria Elspeth Greyback. And some people said she probably should've been in Hufflepuff.

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Open to a bereaved student of any house!

  

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Jessamine was sure that Chessie meant well when she and the rest of the older Hufflepuffs put together the event to allow for the students time to grieve their loved ones, but she wasn’t sure how scones and blankets were supposed to make up for what tragedy occurred. She sat quietly on one of the couches, having gotten herself a cup of tea but hardly touched it, her fingers tracing over the letter that Angelique had sent her regarding her mother and sister; the one that made her actually believe that it wasn’t all some sort of joke. There were still so many unidentified bodies because they were torn up or burnt, she’d heard some of the boys say, as she couldn’t read through the censorship ink on the newspaper that discussed those details; it made her even sicker to think one of them could be another person she cared for. All she could do was sit and wait for the news.

She snapped out of her haze as she felt someone sit beside her; at first she thought it was Chessie, but it turned out to be one of the Slytherin girls. Jessamine normally would have snapped at her for acting like she could do a damn thing to help, but as of late she hardly had the energy to so much as glare, so she just took the apple scone silently and took a bite; at least it tasted wonderful. “Isn’t it odd that such terrible, horrifying things can happen to us, to the ones we love, but because we’re ladies, we’re forbidden from reading about it?” she suddenly asked, as if grasping for something to say so she wasn’t awkwardly sitting there, “My sister is dead and I can’t even read about how it happened.” Never before was Minnie critical about the censorship rules, as she agreed that she didn’t want to hear about anything gross or disturbing, but here she was complaining.

  

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