minnow // sirius black

eighteen

18 : silence

Dumbledore had waited around for me to wake up, and when I did, the sun was starting to set, and Madam Pomfrey was worriedly fretting to Dumbledore about my foot.

"Headmaster?" I said quietly. He turned towards me, and smiled softly. His clear blue eyes met mine, and he moved towards my bed. He took a seat on the end of the bed, on the left side. He looked at my right foot, bandaged, and raised an eyebrow.

"Was it you who shattered the windows near the Great Hall?"

"I didn't mean to," I whispered. I felt the tears building in my eyes, and I coughed. "I was angry. I was so, unbelievably angry. On the train, I caught James' pant leg on fire because I was angry at him. I was angry, and yelled, and the windows shattered. My wand was in my pocket."

"Sometimes, your magic acts wild, without permission. Mostly when we are angry. Things may explode, catch fire, melt. It is quite normal."

"Is it normal for me to be able to wilt a flower? By just looking at it?"

He hummed, to himself, and looked behind him. There was a vase of flowers on the table at the end of the bed. It had been lively when he sat down, and was now limp and dead.

"My wand is next to the flowers."

"It is possible that you magic is intensifying due to your poor health. It is possible, as well, that you can do wandless magic. Or, perhaps, it is a bit of both."

I closed my eyes, hating the way he spoke as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"I'm so tired, headmaster, I'm so tired."

I couldn't stop the tears anymore. I covered my face with my hands, trying to push the tears back into my eyes.

"Your father informed me of the current situation," Dumbledore said, placing a hand on my shin. "Maybe you should consider letting your friends in? Allow them to support you the way they did in fourth year."

I shook my head, my arms falling.

"I don't want to do this," I cried quietly. "I don't want to lay here, dying, while my friends try to comfort me. I don't want to see them crying while I'm fighting the inevitable. I can't watch their faces as I slowly die."

Dumbledore smiled softly.

"You do not have to do anything that you do not want to do, Jemina," He said, raising an eyebrow. "But you cannot give up just yet."

I didn't reply.

I'd already given up.

By mid-October, it was clear to everyone that I was not okay. I spent too much time crying, too much time sleeping. I couldn't walk on my own, and my breathing was constantly labored. Pomfrey instructed James to move into my room, to ensure I didn't stop breathing in my sleep.

I developed an extreme case of sleep apnea, my breathing would stop for minutes while I was asleep.

My exhaustion, both mental and physical, was negatively affecting my schooling. I could barely sit through a class without feeling so ill that I needed to be excused to go vomit. I couldn't eat, and I was losing weight as such a quick pace that Madam Pomfrey had to start forcing nutrients into my body. I learned from my mistakes last year, and would put multiple silencing charms on the bathroom when I would sit in there, vomiting and sobbing.

I broke three toothbrush holders against the wall, and James never asked why.

I started neglecting to spend time with any of my friends, even Lily. I would spend all of my time in the Astronomy tower, alone. If Sirius even tried to come up, I'd give him a bat-boogey hex.