Year II: We need Bill Weasley

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His dark eyes took me in, and I wondered what they would look like if he fell in love.

― F. Scott Fitzgerald, "The Love of the Last Tycoon"

A strong aversion to the Hospital Wing gripped me, spreading through me like a contagious virus

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A strong aversion to the Hospital Wing gripped me, spreading through me like a contagious virus. The air was heavy with the mingling scents of mint and healing potions, underscored by an unnatural antiseptic tang. The beds felt hard, and Rowan's hands were icy to the touch. I tried to warm her fingers by gently blowing on them until Madam Pomfrey shot me a puzzled look.

What did she expect? I was restless, anxiety gnawing at me while Ro lay unconscious. I spent hours observing Madam Pomfrey and her stern, yet gentle face. She went about tending to Ro, rubbing her body, applying bandages, and performing a barrage of diagnostic spells. I longed to assist, but vials and flasks slipped through my trembling fingers.

"She's gonna be alright, isn't she?"

Either Madam Pomfrey didn't hear me or chose not to respond, sending a shiver down my spine. This wasn't the same Rowan we all knew. She was like a mannequin, unmoving, expressionless, and paler than the Grey Lady. As Madam Pomfrey turned to a nearby cabinet, I clung to Rowan's shoulders as if they were a lifeline. I rested my head against her chest, listening to the steady beats of her heart. Ba-bump, ba-bump! It was oddly soothing.

Ba-bump!

Ba-bump!

Ba-bump!

The rhythmic thumping gradually lulled me into a fitful sleep. My dreams were filled with images of the icy armor from the corridor, hypnotic snowflakes, and the echoing sound of Rowan's cry. I couldn't tell how much time passed, whether it was mere minutes, hours, or even half a day.

At some point, Pomfrey gently pulled on my cloak, rousing me from my slumber. Next to her, Penny hovered impatiently, her fingers nervously twisting through her hair. I rose to my feet, my legs feeling wobbly, and stumbled out of the Hospital Wing, with Haywood following closely.

"Mia!" Penny exclaimed, her voice laden with questions. I wiped my damp face and managed a strained smile. It was difficult to meet her gaze.

"Y-yes, it's all my fault. We found the entrance to the Vault of Ice. It's on the fifth floor."

"Merlin's beard! What do we do now? What's our next step?"

Honestly, I didn't have an answer. Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey saved me from the need to respond. She appeared in the doorway, her expression somber, marked by deep wrinkles. A tall hat adorned her head, with a few stray graying hairs peeking out from underneath.

I wondered if she had ever had to heal Jacob or, more likely, bring him back from the brink of death. I had a strong suspicion she had.

"Miss Khanna wishes to see you."

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