She was sure she looked mad as she ran into the castle, tights soaked through from the snow outside. It wasn't anything she worried about- the chill or how she looked. Odd, considering most days, she'd rather die than appear odd and sloppy, everyone staring at her. She knew she was still crying a little, her face wet and her makeup running. Her hair was probably a mess- anyone would know that something was wrong with her. Anyone who knew Ciara well would realize something was very wrong with her. She thought she heard someone call after her to ask what was wrong, but she didn't stop to listen and didn't have any intention of explaining what was wrong to anyone but a single person.

It might have seemed odd that she was running to the dungeons rather than the towers. After all, she was in Ravenclaw- however that common room wouldn't provide any comfort. Sure, she'd eventually want to curl up in her bed under the covers and just hide until she could function again, but that wouldn't happen till she was comforted at least a little. If she went now, she'd just cry and everyone else would complain that she was being noisy. There wasn't anyone there she felt she could really confide in- sure, there were people she could chat to if the mood struck, but no confidant. Her other half was on the other side of the castle.

She cursed the fact that she couldn't just go into the Hufflepuff common room to find her or wait for her. She didn't even know if her sister was in there, but she didn't have the energy to go through the castle and look for her. Instead she just hovered near the entrance, trying to catch her breath. Hopefully Brogan herself would enter or exit soon, but she supposed if not, she could always ask a someone who was on their way in to see if her sister was around and send her out. A good thing the Hufflepuffs tended to be a helpful bunch. She just hoped no one tried to stick around and coddle her- she didn't want to talk to anyone but her twin. Once she was halfway settled, she just tried to focus on getting herself calm- she went to one of her easiest methods, counting the stones on the floor, the repetitive task enough to distract her until she wasn't just focusing on what had happened.

Brogan had had a bit of a weird day. She'd got up that morning feeling fine - quite breezy, in fact, a good mood that rarely struck, if she was perfectly honest. Her morning routine had gone uninterrupted, which was very important to how good her succeeding day would be, and she'd been organised enough to get over to Hogsmeade to pick up Ciara's gift. In fact, so productive had her day been that she had been down in the Great Hall with wrapping paper just so that she definitely had it all done for when it came to Christmas Day itself. However, just as she was putting on the finish touches with a length of ribbon, she'd suddenly begun to feel a little ... off. She couldn't put her finger on what was wrong at all, but it was like a vice had suddenly gripped her stomach.

Shoving the (thankfully not very breakable) present into her bag, along with the paper and scissors, she made a decision she did not make lightly: to go back to her dorm room - maybe she just needed a lie down or something. When she got back to her room, she shrugged her cardigan off and placed it neatly on the chair by her bed, putting her shoes under the bed. Once between the sheets, however, she found herself unable to drift off and was thankful when Caolan jumped up and nestled by her head - kind of cute but sort of disruptive, considering how fat the spoiled cat had gotten.

After a while, she still wasn't exactly feeling her best, but it didn't seem that lying down doing nothing was doing any good for her, so she got up again, making sure that her appearance was good enough to do her justice and picked up the bag of present and wrapping stuff again. Her house tended not to make her feel her best in general, so she figured she'd venture out again to at least be productive in her funk.

Thus she made her way out of the doorway to the Hufflepuff common room and immediately stopped dead, though luckily there was no one directly behind her for they would have surely smacked straight into the back of her. However, the sight of her clearly distressed sister was not something that Brogan could in any way ignore. Immediately a strange mix of empathic upset, anger at whoever had hurt her sister and dread about what it could have been to upset her so much. "Ciara!" she exclaimed, casting her bag down at her feet somewhere and rushing forward to catch her sister up in her arms. Her speech lapsed into the native Gaelic they spoke - it was considered better manners and 'more proper' to speak English even at home around company that spoke Gaelic anyway, but that didn't matter just then. "Oh my Lord, what's wrong? What happened? Are you okay - are you hurt?" Okay, so that was a lot of questions, but her concern for her sister and desire to help needed answers. She clasped Ciara in a tight hug and waited for her answer.

Luckily, if anything that day could be lucky, she didn't have to deal with any well-meaning busy bodies asking her what was wrong or trying to make her talk it out. The first person to come out of the common room was the person she was looking for. She didn't know if it was some sort of weird twin thing or what, but she was grateful. When they'd been young and odd things had happened, it'd always been blamed on the fact that the girls were twins. Now that was clearly not the story (although perhaps part of it), but maybe some of it was really true. At that point she wasn't questioning what brought her sister to her, she was just... well, not happy, but something like it, for it.

She heard her name and immediately fell into her sister's arms, nuzzling in and resting her head against her shoulder. She hugged her back, though it was more like just clinging to her than anything else. Just that simple bit of affection was enough to make her feel much more secure. She wasn't alone, she was protected. There was someone there that cared for her. That could do a lot to ease the pain from a situation. Even the Gaelic was comforting to her- it was homey, and made her think about cold winter mornings in which she and her sister were settled into the same bed, whispering to each other. It did quite a bit to help, before anything had even been said.

However for all the good that Brogan's presence was doing, Ciara still crumbled again when she tried to speak up. Tears, a mess... how was she supposed to do this? She took a half step backward so she could see her sister's face, but grabbed onto the other girl's hand. "I-I'm not h-hurt," she was able to get out. The last question, but the easiest answered and probably the most pressing. Surprisingly, she hadn't been hurt at all. She was just cold and wet. In some ways, it wasn't such a good thing. If he'd left her bruised or bloody, at least she would have had some proof that someone had done something to her. "Is there someplace..." this probably wasn't the best conversation to have in a hallway where anyone could walk by. She took her sister's hand and walked down the hallway into a more empty corridor, further away from the kitchens and the entrance to the common room. "There was a boy.. Peter Pettigrew, a Gryffindor. I- I teased him I guess, after he ran into me outside and made me fall." She wasn't being unfair and making it sound completely unprovoked, she knew part of this was her fault: not that she thought his reaction was anything justifiable. "He- he f-freaked out and totally snapped and he tied me up outside, and I couldn't move and I thought he was going to hurt me, but then I b-begged to be let go so he let me go and-" Her words were cut off by more crying.

The very fact that Ciara immediately collapsed into her arms was an indication to Brogan just how upset her sister was. Ciara was never naturally the most giving of affection - it was one of the aspects of their personality that really set the girls apart. Although Brogan could be and more often than not was prickly and hard to get close to, once someone had made it into her affections, she wasn't afraid of showing it. That Ciara was showing her need for her in such a manner now showed Brogan that something was really, horribly wrong. It scared her a little, to be honest. Actually, no, it scared her a lot. Her head began to envision all sorts of awful things, each worse than the last - she needed to know what had actually happened before she managed to convince herself of the worst. Of course, she didn't voice any of the thoughts running rampant through her head just then, wanting to hear from her sister's own mouth what had happened so she didn't get confused. However, she did make sure she stroked her sisters back firmly, in even measures, hoping it was at least somewhat comforting, despite the situation.

It only made Brogan all the more afraid of what had happened when Ciara's words were drowned by more tears when she tried to answer her questions. It was strange, the frequency at which her emotional response to the situation changed. First she was sad for her sister, seeing her so upset made her heart break - she loved her sister more than anything and she would much rather it had been her that had experienced whatever it was than Ciara. The other dominant emotion was anger. If a person was responsible for making her sister feel like this then they were going to pay. There were no two ways about it. No one should even be able to entertain the mere idea that they could get away with messing with Ciara and getting away with it. She was too important to be interfered with and threatened in such a way.

Feeling Ciara pull away a little, Brogan allowed her sister to step back, keeping her hands on her nevertheless, not wanting to break contact - it always felt like they were strongest when they were together, linked physically. When her sister told her that she wasn't hurt a veritable wave of relief ran through Brogan and she ceased trying to think of the quickest way in which she could get her to the hospital wing without making her walk up all those steps. That was at least something, but seeing her emotionally hurt was just as bad in Brogan's book, even if it wasn't so life-threatening. "Thank goodness," she breathed quietly, though didn't say anything else, not wanting to interrupt Ciara in case she had managed to work herself up to being able to talk about whatever it was that had happened.

As she had been predominantly concerned with her sister's well-being, Brogan had sort of forgotten that, although it was quiet just then, they were stood in a much-frequented corridor. "Oh yeah," she said, glancing round, though before she'd spotted somewhere appropriate, she felt Ciara's fingers close around her own to lead her to a quieter place for them to talk.

Then she just listened. And as she listened her pale blue eyes grew icier and icier. There was a name and to that name she could add a face - she knew who that kid was and there was not a way in the world he was ever going to get away with this. He was going to regret the very moment and every second after that he had chosen to mess with one of the McLaughlin girls. "I think I know him," she said, her voice now clipped, angry. She wasn't exactly the best at hiding the emotion and if she was impulsive when she in an average mood, she could just about kill someone if her anger was strong enough. Stopping to think was not one of her strong points. She didn't give a damn if Ciara had started this by being, well her normal self (who Brogan loved dearly and which she would not change for the world, though she could see how others would take exception to it), because whatever she did to tie someone up and threaten them like that was messed up. And someone who was capable of doing that was not worthy of being excuse for his behaviour whatsoever. "That is so ... what is it with people around here at the minute that makes them think that this kind of thing is excusable, normal behaviour? He's no better than the scum outside the castle casting chunks out of each other for not good reason. He can't get away with this," she ranted, her voice getting more heated as she did so. Okay, so now she was doing a pretty poor job at comforting her sister, but she figured that it would comfort her to know that Pettigrew was lying face down in some foetid swamp somewhere. "He's not going to get away with this." She reached into her satchel to yank out her wand, the bad of Christmas stuff still lying in the corridor outside the common room.

Being with her sister helped- it didn't fix it by any means and she was still frightened, but things no longer felt so pressing or insurmountable. So long as she could cling, anyway. It wasn't like her. Ciara didn't like to appear weak or needy and physical proximity with most people just made her uncomfortable- however this was the other half of herself, really. What she needed then was just security and understanding, and she knew where she would always be able to get it. She was mostly just wondering what she'd do once they were separated again, unsure of how she'd be able to deal with being alone. She was normally a solitary creature, not letting anyone else in- but just then she didn't understand how she could go back to being that way, not for a while. She'd probably drive her sister crazy- it wasn't like she really had any other true friends to confide in. She was just the sort of weird, poor tempered girl who seemed to enjoy fighting with everyone.

She knew her sister was angry- she was, too, though she'd feel it more once the unsettled feeling of anxiousness faded away a bit more. She knew that would happen. She didn't want to upset her sister, but there wasn't much other option- besides, she was pretty sure Brogan would be more upset if she just didn't say anything. "I don't know," she said, futilely wiping at her face despite the fact that she was still crying and the salty wet streaks on her cheeks were just replaced. "It didn't make any sense," she said. Perhaps some would think she'd had it coming. She'd been insulting him. She had a habit of getting into bickering matches. Some might say that it was about time someone stood up to her. However if someone had just insulted her, she wouldn't have been where she was now. She could take an insult- it could even be fun, sometimes funny if the other person had any measure of wit to them. She wouldn't have even been upset if they'd just flung minor spells at each other, like the magical itching powder thing she'd done- she hadn't been trying to hurt him or scare him, simply annoy him. She was sure it hadn't been just him finally sticking up to a bully- which perhaps she was. Something twisted had snapped in his brain. "I ha-hate this," she stuttered between slightly shaky breaths. "Maybe that's how they all got started- twisted little things wrong in their heads, enjoying hurting each other," she said bitterly. She didn't like thinking about the war, knowing she was exactly the sort of person most likely to be hurt in it- muggleborn witch. Sometimes she wondered what she could do to keep herself halfway safe that wasn't return back home. She didn't belong there and knew it. However there were enough people that seemed to think she didn't belong at Hogwarts, either.

"Brogan!" she yelped, immediately knowing she was going to try and get even. While on the one hand she very much wanted something to be done to the boy, she wasn't quite so keen on her sister being the one to do it. It was only because she didn't want her sister hurt- or even messed with as she had been. "I just don't want something to happen to you," she said quickly. She bit her lip, knowing there would be little she could do to change her sister's mind. "Just be careful?" Perhaps it should have bothered her that she was so willing to let someone else- even her sister fight her battles for her, but Ciara didn't have the energy for it, then.

Brogan held on to her sister tightly while the other girl still clung to her. Usually it was the other way round - Brogan clinging to Ciara, pretty much all through their youth. Maybe it was because Ciara was the elder twin by all of seven minutes that Brogan was the more needy and attention-seeking of the two when they were around each other, but it had definitely been true all their lives. Even before their father died, Brogan had sort of dragged Ciara into things, not wanting to be without her but not wanting to miss out on anything either - and her twin scolded her (or at least told her to engage her brain) when she attempted to do anything too reckless. It had worked for them all their lives, that dynamic. It also meant that the two knew each other's characteristics as if they were their own, so consequently Brogan knew before any words were exchanged that something was badly wrong. And if something was badly wrong then she needed to know what it was so that she could help. It broke her heart to see her sister - the other half of herself - so upset.

Once she was actually told what went on some of the fear faded, but that was only to be replaced by fiery anger. Immediately she wanted to go sort this boy out, to fix things so that her sister didn't have to be scared any more. Especially not of someone so undeserving of any emotion so powerful as fear. Even if she didn't leave just then to hunt that scumbag down, she would catch up with him eventually - there was just no way this amount of anger and upset could fade to nothing without something being done. She watched her sister, though, still crying even as she ranted about what kind of person Peter was, and realised that her place was by Ciara's side just then. It really did highlight to her exactly how much the boy had rattled her sister - and it would always be her priority to make sure that Ciara was safe, sound and as happy as it was possible for her to be before she did anything else. She reached over and enclosed the other girl in her arms once again, even if the hug was rather tense.

"He sounds like a lunatic," she said, not realising at first that the term probably would do nothing for any fear her sister had of the boy. In reality, she knew her sister well enough to know that whatever she had said to incite this behaviour from the boy had most likely been quite insulting. However, she did not see how insulting someone could excuse tying her up with a plan to do goodness knows what else to her ... the thought that this could have gone any further than being tied up chilled Brogan to the bone. To be perfectly honest, the war didn't feature in her thought processes all that often, despite how active it had become, but just the fact that anyone could attempt to exert such power over her twin rattled her considerably. She needed Ciara safe - she knew she wouldn't be able to get by without her twin sister by her side, so that simply meant that nothing was allowed to happen to her. Brogan simply would not stand for it.

Distracted from her increasingly rage-filled thoughts by Ciara's stutter, Brogan's eyes widened in concern and she pulled her sister closer, stopping all pacing and fidgeting to give all she could in the way of physical comfort. "Ci - don't. I mean, I know, but it's going to be all right, I promise. I love you and I swear I will not let anything happen to you, even if he does have it in him to do anything more," she said, moving her hand comfortingly over Ciara's back. Then added quickly, "But he probably doesn't have either the gall or the skill to do anything else. [b]"Try not to think about that ... someone so repulsive as him would never get to that level. I promise I'm going to fix this - he doesn't just get to do this without facing any consequences!"

Drawn from her impulsion to draw her wand, despite the fact that the offensive creature wasn't anywhere near them, by Ciara's yell, Brogan paused. Really, her sister was the only person that could successfully manage to make her think for at least a few seconds before she blundered into something she'd regret. However, her anger was boiling over and it needed an outlet - preferably on Pettigrew's thick head. Okay, so she'd stopped briefly, but still she shook head head at her sister's concerns. "No," she said, still speaking in an intensely heated tone. "We can't let him think he's won here. And no one else can fight this one for us - he has to know that we are not a force to be messed with. We're two powerful witches, not a couple of schoolgirls with books, and if that point needs driving into his head by magicking his fingernails into - to ... hot coals, then I will do it. And he will learn if he knows what's good for him." She paused to give her sister what she hoped was a more reassuring, less unhinged look. "Don't worry about me, Ci, I'll be fine. He is the one that needs to be scared ... but I promise I'll be careful. We just need to make sure the world knows that no one messes with the McLaughlin twins, right?"

[I have no idea how this got so long ... sorry!]

She was just so tired of it all, by then. The situation just all felt like too much for her and she just wanted to curl up safely somewhere and not move until she felt better. Laying in her bed for the next day or two was sounding more and more tempting. She didn't feel like she was good for much else, as sad and pathetic as that sort of was. She didn't like the way he'd made her feel- helpless, small, weak. On the one hand, she thought she was being over dramatic- it wasn't like he'd physically hurt her. He'd just messed with her head. Some small part of Ciara said that it wouldn't have affected her so much if she hadn't already been a little unstable, but she didn't like admitting that sort of thing to herself. Besides- he could have hurt her, if he'd wanted to. Directly physically or with magic. The thread of it had been enough to be upsetting.

The hug helped. No, Ciara normally wasn't clinging. She was stiff and her displays of affection were usually limited to small gestures. It wasn't (normally) like her to cling to her sister in the middle of the school's corridor, basically for dear life. Still, she pulled in a slightly shuddering breath as she leaned against her sister's shoulder, trying to appropriately calm herself. Maybe she should have tried harder to learn from the situation or something- she guessed she'd been quite rude to him, but she'd never meant to be harmful. And surely taunting, teasing remarks were different than physical violence? Or at least the threat of it.

”He is,” she said quietly, starting to wonder if she ought to be careful of future encounters with him- there was no way she could go back to more or less ignoring him. Was he always going to hold whatever against her? If he ever got her alone again, would he finish whatever job he'd been trying to complete? She had the vague thought that it'd be best to just not walk alone again- however that was basically impossible to do. She didn't like the idea of giving anyone that much control over her, either. That said, she was somewhat sure that her feat of encountering him alone again in some empty hallway was worst than being clingy or irrational. She knew she ought to tell someone, but what proof would she have? There wasn't a single cut or bruise on her, it'd be her word against his. Sure, maybe they could believe her, but with no proof, what could they ever do to him? ”I just want it all to g-go away,” she said, her voice sounding a little hollow to herself. She didn't want anything to happen to herself or Brogan. That was it.

She listened to her sister's words- they did help. ”I know, and I love you, too, I just don't want anything else to happen,” she said, her voice breathy as she was trying to calm herself down to a point where she could actually be functional. Brogan did have a point- surely, if he'd really wanted to do something to her, he would have done something more? She nodded a little at the logic- they couldn't just let him get away with it.

She wasn't feeling much up for revenge. She didn't feel up for anything, she just felt weak and cold. It should have bothered her much more that she was letting her sister fight her battles for her, but it wasn't enough to prompt her into doing anything else about it. It made her think back to being a child, when a boy at school had snipped off the end of one of her braids with scissors during class. She hadn't realized it until there was a lock of red hair on the floor- she'd let Brogan fight that battle for her, too. Maybe she should have had more desire for her own revenge, but she just didn't have it in her to be active. As much as she hated to let Brogan potentially put herself into harms' way, she wanted it done and had no energy to really try and stop her, anyway. She shut her eyes against the hot coals mental image. For a second she wondered if Brogan had it in her to do it, but of course she did. If the situation had been reversed, she'd be more than willing to do it for her sister's sake. ”Just... just be careful,” she finally agreed, nodding. She used the back of her hand to wipe at her face again, somewhat surprised to see that there was still mascara smeared onto the back of her hand. She would have thought that it would have all run off by then. She probably looked like a mess. ”A-and know that you're more important than doing something to him.”[b] She said, feeling a bit like she could breathe a little better. She tried to smile, just a little, but it didn't really work, much less reach her eyes. [b]”Yeah, no one is going to mess with us,” she agreed, but unable to muster up Brogan's enthusiasm or sureness.

As long as Ciara chose to remain by Brogan's side, leaning on her shoulder for support, Brogan would be there for her. She kept her arms wrapped tightly around her sister, moving one of her hands rhythmically up and down her back in an attempt to comfort her physically. She hated seeing her sister so upset, knowing that it took a lot for Ciara to display physical affection in this way and not feel awkward. Not that she supposed her sister felt good about it just then, but it was clear she wasn't overthinking how long the hug should last, but was simply taking comfort from it, which Brogan was more than happy to give. Well, happy perhaps was not quite the right word, but she would give it so long as Ciara needed it. Of course, she would prefer to go back to being the clingy one that irritated her sister on a regular basis by catching her in a bear hug and not letting go. That was the way things were meant to be.

Brogan's brow only continued to descend into a frown as her sister agreed that the Pettigrew boy was mad, completely unstable. It chilled her to the bone, if that really was the case (and she was of the opinion they were right about him), to think about what the boy could have got away with if Ciara hadn't persuaded him to let her go. With that thought she squeezed a little harder, while her eyes narrowed further. She would be lost without her sister there with her - she wasn't exactly shy about showing that Ciara was the most important person in the world to her, but it was more than that; she was her other half, so seeing her hurt was like being hurt herself. Worse, even. "You're okay though," she said, quieter, not quite sure if that was an attempt to comfort her sister or herself. "I wish I could make it go away," she told her, her voice hardening as she continued. "I really wish I could. But I can make sure it never happens again. I'll make it so that he'd prefer to go ten rounds with an enraged bear."

"Nothing else will happen," she tried to reassure her, though she was still determined to get vengeance for Ciara, no matter what. When she got this angry she did kind of get an invincibility complex - so long as she was this full of emotion that she needed to unleash on a specific someone, it wasn't possible for them to hurt her. "He wouldn't dare to mess with both of us - then it'll be both of our words against his. I'll just find him, teach him a lesson and get out of there. Quick and easy." Well, that would be the plan, anyway. Even she knew that she wasn't so good at keeping to any kind of plan once she was riled up. But that wasn't the point.

She nodded as Ciara seemed to come round to the idea of letting her loose against the idiot that had tried to scare her sister so much. He may have succeeded in doing that just now, but she would make him regret even drawing breath while either of them were present. And if anyone commented on her sister being timid or having seen her running scared, she would treat them to the same too. "I will be, don't worry. I've done all right so far, right?" she said, ignoring the fact that a lot of times it had been Ciara's sense being called out behind her that had stopped her from pushing things too far. "I know I'm more important than him, and so are you," she tried to reassure her. "There's no reason to be scared of someone we're superior to. Now just to make him realise that."

If nothing else, Ciara could be resilient. That was trying to kick in, then. Even her mind wasn't always the safest place in the world, but she'd gotten used to that, knew the little tricks to set herself at ease. This was no different, really. She just needed control. Something Peter had taken from her. She knew then, that the days, weeks- maybe even months, depending on how this went- would be bad. However she'd survived bad before and would do so again. Maybe it'd require help, but she knew that the only person she'd want help from (or even tolerate help from) would do anything for her. It wasn't enough to make her feel like everything was fine- it wasn't. But it was enough to get her out of that moment, long enough to start and pull herself together. That, or she'd just cried herself out.

She was still shakey, but the fresh flow of tears had ebbed, and she wiped her face. There was mascara on the back of her hand- she probably looked like a mess. That bothered her, but she didn't let herself think about it. It was just Brogan- and she meant “just” in the best possible way. This was the person she was actually comfortable with, so comfortable it didn't matter. ”I'm OK,” she said. Her voice was still wavering, but if she said it, she was more likely to believe, and she had a feeling Brogan needed the reconfirmation. She tried to smile at the angry bear image. If anyone could do it, it was her sister.

She nodded. Ciara's word against Peter's was one thing. However Ciara's and Brogan's together would surely need to be taken a bit more seriously? Maybe still suspect- they were twins and clearly linked after all, but it was harder to ignore two people than it was one. She really ought to have said something like 'no, let me take care of this myself' or at least 'let me go with you,' but she didn't. What she did pull off was, ”You can do it.” Lame, she was kicking herself for it, but so be it.

”You've been all right so far because I've always been there to pull you back.” It was an attempt at a joke, but it was true. A good chunk of Brogan's childhood had been spent climbing every tree around. A good chunk of Ciara's childhood had been spent standing at the base of ever tree around, telling Brogan that no, the branch she was about to climb onto was not sturdy enough to support her weight and she should not try to climb up onto it. Sometimes it worried her, what her sister would get into without Ciara around to temper her- but it didn't really matter, because Ciara planned to always be there, anyway. ”He will realize that,” she said, quiet.