The Brothers Black

Chapter 3

My eyes slowly fluttered open, and the shaky world around me fell into place. I was in a bed, in a room, that looked strikingly alike to my own. It was my own. But how did I get here? The last thing I remember was leaving Hogsmeade and then... nothing.

A musical tune hit my ears. There was someone sitting next to me on the bed, humming along to a song. Their voice was off-key and deep, but it sounded like the tune of "Hogggy-Warty Hogwarts."

"James," I murmured in a sleepy manner, stretching into a sitting position. I didn't have to fully retain my vision to know who was making that awful sound.

"Addy!" he said excitedly, tackling me in a hug.

"Were you just singing?" I asked mischievously.

"No, well, you were unconscious and I just...," he mumbled in embarrassment before standing up and walking out of the room. "Whatever, Mum and Dad, Addy's awake!"

Seconds later, a whole crowd rushed into the room. It was Mum and Dad, smiling with glee, and another woman in a lime-green coat.

"Thank Merlin!" Mum said, kissing my forehead. "We've been worried sick."

I recognized the other woman as my healer from St. Mungo's, a tall brown-haired witch that I only remember giving me gross potions and bad news.

"I hope you are feeling better, Addy. You have only been unconscious for a few hours. Drink this." She handed me a purple potion that smelled like rotten eggs. I frowned at the cup in front of me; the healer was already living up to her reputation.

I plugged my nose and swallowed it all in one gulp. Bleh! I made a face and shook my head in disgust. The potion made me feel a bit better, though.

James started fake coughing to hide his laughter at my strange reaction.

I noticed him streak a hand through his hair to make it look messy, just like when we got off the Portkey.

"New hairstyle?" I asked with obvious disapproval.

"I liked you better when you were passed out," he said.

After everyone got over my miraculous recovery, the healer asked if she could run some tests on me.

My blood was drawn and I had to drink two more gross potions, along with a few other of the usual tests she did at my checkups.

When she was finished, I decided to maximize my time being pampered. I took out a book, had Mum bring me a glass of pumpkin juice, and relaxed.

It was harder than I thought it would be to relax, though. I kept thinking about how this whole affair was a major setback to my sickness. The few privileges I had were probably going to be taken away for safety concern. What if I couldn't go outside, or eat food, or read? Hogsmeade was supposed to be a big step for me – a sign that I was able to live in the real world. Since I obviously failed, I couldn't help but dread whatever was going to happen next. I was pretty used to this whole incurable illness thing, but I had been feeling so much better lately that this incident scared me. A lot.

Before I knew it, tears were streaming down my cheeks. The rest of my family was busy enough with their own problems, and I had already caused a lot. I didn't want to make their lives any harder, but I just didn't have anyone else. I felt trapped in this endless bubble of repetition, and I was losing the little hope I had.

I tried to forget all my worries and get a little nap in. After all, putting on exotic displays of unconsciousness is exhausting.

A few hours later, the healer returned.