There had been many...reasons and factors that had played into Danielle's decision to accept the chance to go to Colombia to study medicine and help the less fortunate. She had wanted to be a healer since she was five years old, when her father had brought home a blood-sucking bugbear that managed to get loose and...well, suck her blood. It wasn't a fun experience, and she still had the scars on her thigh about it, and Danielle had made it a point to figure out how to fix all the messes her father put her and himself in. What better way to learn how to heal a surprise injury than to head out into the jungles and live day to day, not knowing what was coming next?
That had been the first, true reason why she'd left. Danielle had talked about doing this healer program for ages, just to travel and get away from the annoyance that was having her father as a Hogwarts professor and an embarrassing one at that. She'd thought Donovan had understood, and as she stared at the numbers of the lift she accepted that he had, but---she shook her head. There had been too much stress coming from her parents, his parents, life in general, she was not going to look back and wish to have done things differently because she couldn't.
When the doors of the lift opened, Danielle blinked a few times as she focused on Donovan. Oh. She dropped her eyes to the floor, knowing that they were going to fight when she would really rather not. Danielle was very good at letting the past be the past, but she felt obligated (after seeing how upset he'd become in the journals) to speak with Donovan about whatever he'd want to speak about.
Her hand went out to stop the doors of the lift from closing, "It'll start yelling at me in a moment if you don't get in," she said, a solemn smile twitching onto her face.
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