Paul was feeling loads better. He mostly worried about the girls; Junia and Juniper. He'd be fine. He was old and almost broken anyway; the curse did nothing to make him feel worse. That was a lie, he felt incredibly tired all the time recently, but he wouldn't be voicing this opinion out loud. He was FINE. Milton had come to see him recently, which was dandy. It brought his spirits up!

I'm a wizard, damn it! I can handle a curse. He kept telling himself when he worried TOO much about the implications of it. His play...was being targeted. And while many might say to cancel it, Paul was fiercely determined to keep it alive and going. The attack had been the stuff of cowards. Who would target children? A lowlife. Who would target people and not attack them openly....behind a screen, so to speak? A bloody coward.

And that coward better hope they never had to face Paul Myers. The blue in his eyes had been ablaze recently, when thinking on the attack, and his calculating thoughts had turned into full-blown plans if they found out who did this. Paul was not the sort to illegally finagle; rather, he envisioned, fantasized, running into the culprit in the "streets."

Milton had begged him to quit. And to that, Paul said, "Positively NOT."

Naturally, Regina had been keeping close tabs on those residing in the quarantined room. Days had gone by and, thankfully, much progress had been made since the fiasco. It was something that kept her head above water, rather than be drowned by endless letters that were being delivered to her office like crazy.

Her walk from her office to the hospital wing was caused by these letters. The woman had grown tired of reading them -- certain parents demanding that she resign, the Ministry wishing to impose, the Prophet wanting an interview with her and the recovered, and so on.

Shoes loudly click-clacked as she made her way past hospital beds to the private section of the wing. After walking through the barrier, a smile grew on her face. "How are we all doing?"

She was in a private section of the hospital wing. It didn't hurt anymore. She was alive. These were things she'd reminded herself of every morning since she'd been here and they were things that helped keep the fear at bay, if only for a moment or two.

It hadn't always been that way, of course. The first few days were hard. Memories of Sam-Astrea's ex girlfriend- giving her a cursed object. The pain that consumed every inch of her body and the inability to make it stop or to call for help. That panic. Then there was nothing. Then there were healers. Now there was just emptiness and and a longing for home. Things like OWLs and Hogsmeade dates weren't even a thing of concern like they'd been before that rehearsal. Everything felt different now.

She'd taken to reading while she was stuck in the quarantined section of the hospital wing. Books she'd found comfort in when she was younger. Tales of happy things. The stories seemed so much more unlikely now. Happy endings weren't as prevalent in real life. Still, the familiarity helped somehow. Visits helped too, even if she usually sat quietly reassuring whoever came that she was fine. It's what you did, right? Reassure people. No one ever wanted to hear that you didn't feel safe. The lie was easier on everyone. It's why when the headmistress asked how they were, Junia replied with a soft, "Fine."

Sam wrung her hands as she approached the Hospital Wing, a knot already sat awkwardly in her stomach. She was regretting not bringing something with her now, a gift of some sorts...a bunch of flowers, a box of chocolates...just for something to hold. But she figured that another present from her, wrapped or otherwise, was probably only going to be taken in poor taste. So she simply had a bag of sugar quills from the last Hogsmeade weekend tucked in her robes pocket to share. She thought it might be more reassuring if she ate them too.

The Ravenclaw passed the neat row of beds, and approached the barrier to the Quarantine Room, letting a nervous smile slip onto her face. "Professor Myers?" she asked softly, not wanting to disturb the other occupants of the area, even if they had individual units. Astrea had said Junia was doing better, but she didn't doubt she was the last person the Slytherin would want to see. "Would you mind a visitor?"

Paul set aside the Prophet that he was currently reading at that question from Regina. "I think we're all just doing, at this point," he said softly. The two girls were taking this worse than Paul, as he would have expected. Paul had seen too many things to....feel unease at this. He felt more unease at the two of them being given cursed objects because they were children. "But I'm fine." He smiled.

And Sam Tyler was here! Paul did not distrust her. She had been under some sort of enchantment, right? Allegedly, and Paul believed this. "I wouldn't mind at all. How are you doing, Sam? You're okay?" he asked gently. "We should all be out of here soon enough. I miss my dog. I do hope Wayland is feeding Zelda," he siiiighed. "I WISH I was allowed to have her in here," Moody eyes in the general direction of wherever Reed was.

"Regina, we should speak in private at some point," he croaked, too, in the headmistress' direction. "Not right now."

It was only after his confirmation that Sam stepped through the doorway, entering the quarantine room properly. Her fingers were still knitted together in front of her, unconsciously disclosing her discomfort and nervousness, if her smile hadn't already.

"Survivin'," she offered in respond to his question. It seemed fitting, and was a very Sam-esque answer. It wasn't fine when she still felt the gaze of other students on her back when she hadn't knowingly done anything wrong. "I'm not sure 'bout Zelda, but the Greenhouses are doing well." She'd still gone out despite Herbology being cancelled, hoping tending to the plants might help her feel a bit less guilty about what had happened. It hadn't, maybe because she didn't actually have a reason to be guilty, but it was good to feel useful.

It was only then Sam became aware of the Headmistress. She turned in her direction, giving her a small smile. "Good day, Professor Hawthorne. I hope I'm not interrupting anyfink."