“This,” hic “is horrible.” hic. “Please help.” hic.

Remington blinked her brown eyes at another student, who she could vaguely identify as a fellow first year. They were in all of the same classes, and she looked like she was on the younger side of the age spectrum. The Draco felt bad for being so bad with names. This was one of the longest stretches of schooling she’d had without moving, and she knew she’d be here for years to come, so she really should try harder. But she couldn’t remember getting this girl’s name in passing.

She moved her arm away from the other first year so there’d be no more robe tugging. The other girl ignored Remington’s question, but she figured that that was because the answer was clear. She wouldn’t be coming to Remington if she had a partner, right?

“Well, we’ll just have to work hic! on the assignment,” Remington replied after a moment; she’d tried waiting to speak until it seemed like there was a break in her hiccups. She’d been wrong. She opened up her textbook and, unsatisfied with the table of contents, flipped to the index.

“Okay, hic!, I dunno what the answer is y- hic! hic! yet, but whatever it is, we’ll need to boil water,” she let out a few more hiccups, “We always need to boil water.” She looked up at the other girl, who seemed way more upset than was necessary to be subjected to something as simple and non-threatening as hiccups. She must be a Lyra.