Before we start, in case that is unclear, I'm myself someone that suffers from trauma and anxiety and has been given wrong diagnoses leading to near death situations and most of the things I'm listing off in this chapter (obviously not to the effect.). And as Kenny is one of the strongest characters and the one I relate to most as a pervert, I made the decision to give him the plot line First intended for Wendy. Hope that clears something.
~Eko, the writer of this shit.
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The emotionless face is actually scarier than I thought it would be. He's not eating, drinking, nothing. He's just staring down and being quieter than normal. Which, for a fairly quiet person, is damn near mute.

"Is he okay?" Heidi asks.

I shake my head.

"No. But I don't think any of us truly understand the extend," I say.

Heidi gives me a hug.

"He looks like he got kissed by a dementor, holy fuck," Lizzy says, looking at Kenny from across the table.

"Somehow I know that this year is going to be shit," I say.

A paper flies in front of me. I slowly take it, it's just Quidditch.

"Oh fuck this shit," I whisper.

The place I play is free? Nice, awesome, I would take it if my best friend wasn't in so much shit at the moment.

"Are you going to eat at all?" Patty asks.

I shake my head, looking at Kenny. Still cold. What's wrong? Did he really need the meds?

"Hey, Ken," I say.

He turns around to me.

"Let's talk," I say.

He gets up and I get up as well, we both leave the great hall.

"How are you doing?" I ask.

He shrugs.

"Um... any panic attacks?" I ask.

He nods.

"Oh... so the meds don't work?" I ask.

He nods.

"Then don't take them. Kenny, being fucking Stone is not at all healthy for you or any of us," I say.

Kenny nods.

"True," He says.

"But why aren't you getting rid of them then?" I ask.

"I don't know. I sort of think they meant for me to get the wrong meds here," Kenny says.

He shrugs.

"What's that?" I ask.

"Side effects are a lot of things with my memory. Do you know how weird it is to carry your own time tablet in hand two months into the year?" Kenny asks.

"Wait. You don't remember where your classes are?" I ask.

"No that's forever carved into my mind and isn't leaving any time soon. I just honest to God cannot remember anything I should," Kenny says.

"Like?" I ask.

"I don't remember what my first class was," Kenny says.

"Your short term memory is going to shit?" I ask.

"It's fucking painful, let me tell you that," Kenny says.

"Physically or mentally?" I ask.

"Well mostly mentally but I forgot where my pocket knife was and stabbed myself like a week ago," Kenny says.

I laugh.

"I don't know what's so funny but okay," Kenny says.

"But you really have to stop taking those medications if it's effecting you like this," I say.

"Will that get me my memory back because then yes please," Kenny says.

He takes a deep breath.

"I literally can't for the life of me remember why I think Kyle is in danger," Kenny says.

"Maybe you'll remember better afterwards, I don't know," I say.

He nods. We both continue walking.

"You know I actually think it would be easier to handle you with medication than with it," I say.

"I'm starting to believe that," Kenny says.

"You know Stan's like super worried about you. He says you look depressed and I'm going to have to agree," I say.

Kenny nods.

"I can see that," he says.

"You promise to stop? Taking that thing? It's not helping you," I say.

"Literally the fucking opposite, of course I will," Kenny says.

"Take it slow though. When you get off meds quickly, it causes damage to your mental and physical health," I say.

"I know, I know. Honestly, I've never really been ill enough to have meds, so it's actually hard for me to tell if it's worse or better than before. But I feel fucking empty and that's something I don't like at all," Kenny says.

"Me neither, none of your friends like it that you are acting like you've been 50 years in a herd of dementors," I say.

"Okay okay, I get it, I sound depressed," Kenny says.

"Kenny," I say.

"Yeah?" He asks.

"When you get off the meds, we are going to try to figure this out, right?" I ask.

Kenny nods.

"Of course we will," he says.

I smile at him.

"Thanks," I say.

There is a moment of silence between both of us before Stan comes over.

"Hey, Wendy, Kenny," Stan says.

"What is it then?" I ask.

He gives me the acceptance slip into the school band.

"I'm the only second year. And only Hufflepuff. There are a lot of good musicians, Hufflepuffs just, I feel like, are naturally not that attention seeking," Stan says.

"Stan, we talked with Kenny and he has decided to, slowly, quit taking the medication," I say.

"Thank fucking God," Stan says.

He hugs Kenny, smiling.

"We'll have you back soon then, I guess," Stan says.

Kenny hugs him back.

"I'll have myself back, which is the one I'm really waiting on," Kenny says.

I nod.

"It must weird feel to live life like a different person basically... from the joking little boy to a depressed old man within a couple of days," I say.

"It's magic meds, of course they'd be really quick," Kenny says.

"It's magic," Stan says, most likely referring to some popular thing in muggle culture. I don't really think anyone here is that into muggles. If they are, they're a speciality.

"I'm fucking tired again. Goodnight, in a couple of days, it should be okay," Kenny says.

He's most likely tired from the meds.