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HP Chapter 124: Conversation
🕑 Added 2025-10-09 14:00:40 +0000 UTC"Anne? Anne? Anne!?"
Anne's eyes flew open. Her body was drenched in cold sweat, the blanket tightly wrapped around her, but she was no longer in bed.
Fanny was crouched beside her, visibly shaken. Pansy, Milis, and Thalia were also kneeling around Anne, all in their pajamas, faces pale with worry.
Anne clutched her head in agony, curling up into a tight ball. Her skull throbbed as if it were splitting open.
"Anne?" Fanny called softly, but Anne didn’t respond.
“We have to take her to the school hospital!” Fanny turned to the others urgently.
“Yes! Absolutely!” The three girls agreed in unison, clearly frightened themselves.
Anne bit down hard on her tongue until the sharp tang of blood filled her mouth. She tried to speak, but her throat was painfully dry.
Milis, towering and strong, effortlessly lifted Anne over her shoulder despite their size difference. Fanny threw a thick coat around Anne’s trembling, sweat-soaked body to keep her warm. “Let’s go, I’m really worried about her.”
The others nodded firmly and rushed out together.
Still dazed and half-conscious, Anne was carried into the school hospital. It was early Saturday morning, and Madam Pomfrey was startled by their dramatic entrance.
But upon seeing who it was, she immediately directed Milis, “Set her down on the bed, gently now. You can’t just carry her like a sack of potatoes!”
Milis nodded and tried to lay Anne down as gently as she could, but Anne curled up even tighter the moment she touched the mattress, shielding her head.
Madam Pomfrey waved at the girls. “Give her space, don’t crowd around. If you don’t mind, go back to your dormitories, get dressed, and then come back.”
Pansy glanced down at her pajamas, let out a little shriek, and bolted from the room. Milis and Thalia hesitated, each giving Anne a concerned look before following.
Fanny remained. She sat down in the chair beside Anne’s bed, worried. “Madam Pomfrey, please, can you check what’s wrong with her?”
“I’ll examine her right now,” Madam Pomfrey replied. But the moment she touched Anne’s arm, Anne flinched violently and pulled a pillow over her head.
Frowning, Madam Pomfrey turned to Fanny. “Miss Charles, tell me what happened.”
“I woke up to the sound of Anne falling out of bed,” Fanny began, shivering slightly at the memory. “She was having a nightmare, drenched in sweat, mumbling something like ‘gun’? I think that was the word. I shook her awake, and when she opened her eyes… they were bloodshot.”
Madam Pomfrey's brow furrowed deeper as she glanced at Anne. “Alright, I’ll fetch a calming draught.”
She wheeled over a wooden rack filled with potions and opened a glass bottle filled with pale blue liquid. “Help me sit her up.”
Fanny gently removed the pillow and propped Anne up. This time, Anne didn’t resist as much. The headache had eased slightly, and the pain from her tongue had grounded her a bit. When the bottle touched her lips, she drank a large gulp, but immediately choked.
Cough cough,
Much of the potion came back up, splattered with blood and staining the white sheets. Both Fanny and Madam Pomfrey were alarmed.
“Madam Pomfrey!” Fanny’s voice trembled.
“I-I’m fine,” Anne rasped, swallowing the rest. “Just bit my tongue…”
The tension in the room eased visibly.
Madam Pomfrey gave her another dose, this time instructing, “Slowly, sip it.”
Anne obeyed, drinking in small, measured sips until the bottle was empty.
“There. That should help.” Madam Pomfrey put the bottle away. “Anne, does anything else hurt?”
Anne sat up straighter, squinting. Her voice remained hoarse. “My head hurts. And my tongue.”
“Headache?” Madam Pomfrey examined her carefully and found a lump at the back of her skull. She touched it gently.
“Ow, ”
“Just as I thought, you hit your head when you fell.” She peered into Anne’s eyes again. “What time did you go to bed last night?”
“Uh… three a.m.,” Anne admitted.
“Three?” Fanny gasped. “Anne! You stayed up until three?!”
Madam Pomfrey, however, remained calm. “No serious issues. I’ll apply ointment to your tongue and some drops for your eyes. You’ll need to stay overnight for observation.”
“Do I really have to?” Anne’s voice trembled. “I… I don’t want to stay overnight. I’m afraid I’ll have another nightmare.” Her voice quivered on the word "nightmare."
Madam Pomfrey gave her a sympathetic look. “How about I change the sheets and blanket to sky blue again, like last time?”
Anne shook her head quickly. “No. No sky blue.”
“Then what color would you prefer?” she asked patiently.
“Do I have to stay?” Anne asked pitifully.
“I’m afraid so,” Madam Pomfrey said firmly. “Head injuries are serious, you must stay one night.”
“Alright, then I want gray. With patterns.”
“Deal.” Madam Pomfrey nodded, then turned to Fanny. “Miss Charles, keep Anne company while I get the ointment.”
Fanny nodded and sat down again, letting out a breath. “Whew… I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“I’m sorry,” Anne murmured, eyes dark and unreadable.
“There’s nothing to apologize for! It’s not your fault you had a nightmare,” Fanny said, shaking her head. Then she smiled gently. “What do you want for breakfast? I’ll bring it over.”
“I want hot milk, potato-meat cakes, blueberry toast, a veggie sandwich, and a donut. Oh, and don’t forget, ”
“Pudding, right?” Fanny grinned.
“Mm-hmm.” Anne smiled faintly. “Also, could you bring my bag and the stack of parchment from my desk? And my History of Magic assignment.”
“Seriously? Anne, you’re in the hospital.”
Anne tugged on her sleeve pleadingly.
“Fine, fine. I’ll bring them after I change. Ah, and should I tell?”
“No, ” Anne quickly interrupted.
“Alright, alright. I won’t.” Fanny stood up. “I’ll be back soon!”
Anne nodded.
Madam Pomfrey returned with ointment, applied eyedrops, and spread a sweet-smelling white salve across her tongue wounds.
“Madam Pomfrey,” Anne said with difficulty, “I don’t want to see anyone else today…”
“Of course. You need rest. After breakfast, take a nap. Want a sleeping draught?”
Anne nodded, and after breakfast, she took a small dose and slept until noon.
By afternoon, golden autumn light streamed through the hospital’s large windows. Dust motes floated lazily in the air, and everything glowed soft and quiet.
Anne sat up, her headache lingering, a vein in her head pulsing visibly. She checked the time, it was past one.
On the bedside table was a paper bag, lunch, she guessed, from Fanny. But when she opened it, she froze. Inside was a sheet of parchment with familiar handwriting, she recognized those notes from years of Transfiguration class.
Anne, I’m really worried. Are you okay? Madam Pomfrey said you needed rest, so I wrote you this note instead. Oh, I grabbed a bunch of food for you from the Gryffindor table. Please rest well. — Hermione
Anne’s nose stung, and she stared at the full paper bag in silence.
That afternoon, she didn’t go back to sleep. Instead, she finished her History of Magic and Ancient Runes assignments. Then she reviewed and updated the thick stack of parchment she’d brought.
Fanny returned at dinnertime with food. They chatted briefly before she left again. Alone, Anne buried herself in Intermediate Transfiguration Explained until 8:30 p.m. Then she glanced at her watch, got out of bed, and slipped on her Hogwarts robe, this one adorned with the prefect and Roland family crests.
She removed both badges and set them on the table, picked up the stack of parchment, and pulled a pair of black-rimmed glasses from her bag.
On a blank parchment, she quickly scribbled:
Out briefly. Will return tonight. — Anne
With a glance around the hospital wing, Anne quietly slipped out.
By the time Madam Pomfrey emerged, Anne was gone. Reading the note, she muttered, “Honestly… and why did she take her badges off to leave?”
On the eighth floor, Anne stopped across from the tapestry of the Troll hitting Barnabas the Barmy. She paced back and forth three times. A smooth door appeared, with an ornate brass handle.
Anne reached for it, then hesitated. She withdrew her hand, stared at the door for a long moment, then shook her head and stepped away. She closed her eyes, and the door slowly faded from view.
Instead, she turned into a corner classroom. It was small, with a cracked window letting in a cold wind, but the view was beautiful. Pale moonlight poured in, reflecting the crescent moon onto the lake below.
Anne stood by the window, lost in thought. The wind howled through the empty room. Moonlight shimmered silver on the water.
At 9:15, a hidden door on the eighth-floor wall reappeared. Footsteps and hushed voices drifted out as people exited.
Anne clutched the parchment tighter. Once the last of the crowd had left, she opened the classroom door and stepped out. No one noticed her. She approached the door, took a deep breath, and turned the handle.
As she guessed, Hermione, Ron, and Harry were still inside. They had just gathered to check the Marauder’s Map.
Her sudden entrance startled them, but then Hermione’s face lit up in joy. She nearly leapt forward, running to Anne.
“Anne! Oh my gosh, what are you doing here? Aren’t you sick? Are you okay? I went to the hospital wing, but Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t let me in, so I asked Fanny, ”
She paused, frowning. “Wait, why are you wearing your glasses again? Actually, you look kind of cooler with them. But aren’t you supposed to be in the hospital tonight?”
Anne gently caught Hermione’s hand as she reached for the glasses. “Don’t take them off,” Anne said. Her voice, though improved, was still hoarse and startled all three of them.
“Anne?” Hermione withdrew her hand, clearly worried.
“I’m fine,” Anne said calmly, then looked at Ron and Harry. “Can you two give us a moment? I need to talk to Hermione alone.”
They exchanged a look and nodded, quickly stepping outside.
The room fell silent.
Anne stared at Hermione, unsure what expression to wear. She averted her eyes and handed her the thick stack of parchment.
“What’s this?” Hermione asked. Then she realized. “Is this…?”
“It’s everything I know that might help you,” Anne said. “I skipped the basics, I know you already know them.”
Hermione flipped through the pages. “This is amazing! Wait, what’s this? ‘Mirror Shield Charm’? I’ve never even heard of this!”
“That one’s for you,” Anne explained. “It was invented by a former head of the Roland family. If you cast it on an opponent, it reflects their spells. If you cast it on yourself, it creates a transparent shield on your back, useful against sneak attacks. It’s quite practical, I, ”
“Are there more spells like this?” Hermione asked, eyes gleaming with curiosity.
“There are. Based on, well, never mind.” Anne pulled something from her pocket, a gold Galleon. The one Hermione had given her.
Hermione’s face changed. She looked up, already sensing something was wrong.
“I’m giving this back,” Anne said. “I can’t do this. And you shouldn’t either. If, ” she glanced at the posted roster “, if they found out, not everyone would take it well.”
“But, ”
Anne shook her head firmly and set the coin on top of the parchment.
“And, ”
Their eyes met. Anne’s words caught in her throat. “I… I know…”
She took a deep breath, looked straight into Hermione’s eyes, and said quietly, “I’m sorry, Hermione. I’m not the person you think I am. I don’t know where I went wrong. Maybe I should never have come to Hogwarts in the first place. If I hadn’t, ”
Hermione reached forward and pressed her hand over Anne’s mouth. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “No. Don’t say it, Anne, ”
Silence. The fire crackled softly nearby.
Anne had no words. Her head throbbed again, a dull pulsing vein behind her eyes.
After a long pause, Hermione spoke in a trembling but composed voice. “Anne, thank you, for the notes, the spell, everything. I’ll keep them. As for the rest… let’s talk about it another time, okay?”
Anne met her gaze and finally nodded.
Hermione removed her hand. Her voice was steadier. “Will you go back to the hospital wing now?”
“Yeah.”
Anne didn’t remember how she made it back, or if she even said goodbye. Her head pounded, and her vision blurred.
Madam Pomfrey seemed to be talking at length, but Anne couldn’t process it. She was handed another potion, and after drinking it, everything faded to black.
