Have you ever just laid in bed, drifting in that awkward state between being asleep and being awake where you can't move a muscle, but without even opening your eyes you know what exactly is going on around you? Hear every noise and sense every movement?
Since I took the potion and collapsed, until maybe an hour ago, the world was black. I had no recollection of how I ended up where I currently am or who brought me here. All I knew was that I didn't feel sick anymore. I didn't feel scared anymore. It felt as if an elephant had been removed from my chest and placed on the opposite side of the world so it could never be near me ever again.
And now I was laying in a sterile smelling room, listening to the steady beeping of the machines monitoring every function of my body. I could feel the slight tug of tape where the IV had been stuck into my wrist, and the stiffness of the sheets tucked tightly around my legs.
People had been rushing in and out of my room and still were, filling out charts and refilling bags of whatever they had hooked up to me. It felt as though eyes were constantly on me, although I couldn't open my own to check.
But the feeling of mobility eventually came back, a slight prickling working its way up from my toes.
"Have you gotten a hold of her father yet?" the stern voice of Professor McGonagall had gone soft, her voice cracking slightly.
"We've been trying all day, but still no word" a voice I hadn't heard before answered calmly, professionally.
"Well we must inform someone!" McGonagall insisted, dropping down to a whisper.
"We may only contact immediate family, and seeing as her father is the only one listed in her emergency contacts, he is the only one we may inform" the person, who I believed to be a man, answered.
"She's been seeing the same boy for nearly two years, surely we could-ˮ
"That decision will be made by her father once we get a response from him" and with that, one of the two left the room.
It appeared that McGonagall had stayed behind because she sighed, frustrated, and said to herself, "Well if you won't let him know, I will!" and left the room as well.
Assuming that the coast was clear, I lifted my heavy lids and surveyed the room, taking in everything from the spotless white floors to the equally spotless white ceiling. I was obviously in a room at St. Mungo's, but I couldn't tell what ward or what hallway, or even what time of day it was.
Before I could draw any conclusions, the sound of footsteps came from the opposite side of the door and I shut my eyes quickly. It creaked open and someone slid inside, careful to close the door as quietly as possible. They slowly made their way around to the foot of my bed and stood there for a brief moment before clearing their throat.
"Open your eyes, Ms. Connors. You are fooling no one. And besides, we have more important matters to attend to" the voice of Albus Dumbledore grumbled from mere feet away. The typically whimsical tone was gone, a reprimanding boom left in its place.
Dumbledore actually sounded ... angry? Albus Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard alive, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sounded down-right angry at...me. It was enough to make me involuntarily sink lower into my pillows and want to pull the blankets up over my eyes.
But instead, against my better judgement, I slowly opened my lids and looked up at the old man. His blue eyes were narrowed down at me, causing his face to wrinkle up in the most unexpected places. He looked exhausted, his skin papery and dark under his eyes as his robes practically hanging off of him.
Was it possible that his beard was thinning?
"Hello Headmaster" I said meekly, barely audible to myself, let alone to him.
"Ms.Connors" he nodded politely. "Was your rest relaxing?" he asked, although something in his voice made me think that he didn't quite care how relaxing my near-death experience was.
"I guess you can say that" I pulled myself up higher onto the pillows just as he sighed and sat down on the foot of my bed. I tried, to my fullest extent, not to let him know that I was absolutely terrified.
He knew. He knew that I knew that he knew. What I also knew was that there was about a ninety percent chance that he was here to tell me that I had been expelled and could kiss my dreams of ever becoming a healer, goodbye.
"Well I would expect that you would be, Ms. Connors, as you have been magically sedated for six hours while the Healers have been removing the Memoiré Floue from your system" his tight lips pursed themselves and he looked past me.
I didn't know how to respond. There was no way I could deny it. But how exactly was I supposed to explain the fact that I had been taking illegally acquired, and highly addictive potions in order to forget about a band of death-eaters hell-bent on killing me and everyone that I loved?
Well, maybe the last part... but what would be the use, lying to Dumbledore? He would spot the lie in a second. But what would happen then?
He would find out, and someone would die.
"Acelynne." Believe it or not, his voice became even graver, grave enough to make me actually cower in fear. The worst part of it all was that he spoke with such coherence, which most people (myself included) lost when they became as angry as he was. Each word that came from his mouth was so utterly clear, it cut through me a thousand times over again.
"What you did was irresponsible, illegal, extremely dangerous for yourself and everyone around you. You actions should and could set grounds for your immediate expulsion....." his piercing eyes bore into mine, refusing to relent and making it impossible to look down in shame.
I braced myself for the worst, for the blistering news that I was kicked out of Hogwarts, effective immediately, and was to be sent to Azkaban. Even though I was bracing myself for the blow of it all, I was forced to look into his eyes and see the anger and disappointment that flowed through them, even when my own eyes clouded over with tears.
"But what I would like to know is how a young woman as extremely bright as yourself, could get herself into a situation as troubling as this?" His voice softened but it didn't matter. I could hear the disappointment dripping off of every word he said.
I swallowed thickly and batted the tears out of my eyes, causing them to stick to my lashes and clouding my vision. "How do I even begin?" I whispered, looking down at my hands.
"I suggest, with the beginning" he said, and I swear I could see the tiniest, most minute traces of a smile cross his lips.
Finally, I shook my head, as if to clear out my muddled brain. "I guess it all began when I came home two summers ago....after, you know....."
"I know very well, indeed" he said softly. "Continue."
"They started out as nightmares. Horrible, terrifying nightmares that made me afraid to even go to sleep. Then there was the blackouts. Worse than nightmares, sure, but at least when I came back around, I knew that it was just a dream.
"And then I didn't even have that anymore. I was seeing things that weren't really there. One second I would be living my day to day life, and the next second I was being surrounded by the death-eaters. And worse than seeing them, I could feel them. It felt as if they were torturing me all over again.
"I dealt with it for a while, I really did. Or at least, I really tried. But they were getting out of hand. I didn't know what was real anymore. And I couldn't tell anyone. How could I? Seeing and hearing and feeling things that weren't there? I was afraid they would lock me up for losing my mind... And then Mr. Weasley ended up in the hospital, and I came here to come visit him. That's when I found the potion."
I stopped for a moment and looked back to Dumbledore. He was only half-looking at me, a glaze settling over his eyes as if he had been in some sort of trance. But I knew this wasn't the case, he wasn't dazed off. He was listening intently, registering every word I said.
"I only used a drop or two at first, and only when I needed it. It stopped the hallucinations, the nightmares, the blackouts. I thought I was really getting better...
"And that's when George left. The potion was helping, but it was mostly George that was getting me through everything. Of course, he didn't know anything about the potion, though. I felt abandon and alone and I just wanted it all to go away, so after he'd left, I began to take more of the potion. And it helped.
"I didn't feel scared or hurt anymore and that's how I wanted it to stay. But I knew that my dad or George would figure it out when I got home for the summer, so I stopped taking the potion altogether. But, of course, the dreams came back.
"I managed to last the summer, and even a bit into the school-year too." I stopped, biting my lip and taking a moment to think. I couldn't tell Dumbledore about the box.
"But when I came back, I didn't have George to help me, and now I had to deal with the stress of all of my NEWTs classes... I guess I sort of snapped. So I started taking the potion again.
"And I supposed you could piece together the rest. The potion was discontinued, and I eventually ran out so I tried to make it myself. That's how I ended up here." I closed my eyes for a moment before looking back at Dumbledore in shame.
"I realise what I did was incredibly stupid" I bit my lip and sucked in enough air to fill my lungs indefinitely. "So, I'm ready to face my consequences." As those words tumbled out of my mouth, I somehow managed to straighten out my shoulders and back so I looked as though I had a shred of dignity left.
Without breaking eye contact, Dumbledore reached his hand forward and patted my ankle through the layers upon layers of sheets. The action was somewhat apologetic, causing me to finally break our gaze, shut my eyes and turn away.
"Ms. Connors..." he sighed, his grip tightening slightly on my ankle. "Look at my hand." I shook my head but he persisted, his grip tightening in urgency, although not to the point where it hurt me. "Please."
Hesitantly, I opened my eyes and looked down at his hand. It took most of my self control not to gasp at the sight of the blackened appendage. "You need not know how this happened. What you do need to know is that everyone makes mistakes, myself included, and in desperate times we do desperate things.
"I too know how it feels to be haunted by the memories of my past and although these memories may cause us great pain, they make us who we are. You do not think that I have accomplished all the things I have in my lifetime without pain and suffering?" He stopped for a moment and, with pain in his eyes, looked past me once again.
"Memories can cause us great grief, but they can also cause us great joy. Of course, at the time a bad memory can make it seem as though the world will never be bright again. They can cripple you, and hurt you more than anything in the present ever could." He focused on me once more, the pressure from his fingers drawing back from my ankle. "My dear Acelynne, can you recall some sort of protective spell?"
"A patronus?"
"Yes, a patronus. And what do you need in order to have a successful patronus?"
"A happy memory?"
"Indeed, indeed. A happy memory can shed light on the darkest of times; protect us from others and ourselves. Although they may be hard to recall, they will always be there with you." He gave me a small smile and stood up at the end of my bed.
"Memories make us who we are, and who we are is human. Humans also make mistakes. How can I possibly punish you for doing something that any one of us could succumb to? I can't. And this is why I have decided that you will not be expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
I had to stop for a moment and replay what he had just said back in my head. I wasn't expelled? Surely I hadn't heard him right.
"Excuse me?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at the old man, smirking at the end of my bed.
"You heard me correct, Ms. Connors. You have not been expelled." He tucked his hand back into his robe and cast a glance at the clock on the wall.
"Of course, you cannot go unpunished. When you return to school, it will be expected that you catch up on all of your missed work. You will also be on probation for the rest of the year, and not allowed unsupervised in the Potions classroom. And you will have to come into the Hospital Wing daily for weekly tests to ensure that you are clean, do you understand?"
"Yes, Headmaster" I said, nodding eagerly. "Thank you."
He fully smiled and took a step backwards. "Now, if you will excuse me, I must be heading back to the castle. Get some rest, Ms. Connors. I expect to be seeing you very soon." He turned on his heel and headed towards the door.
"Headmaster!" I called and he stopped, looking at me inquisitively over his glasses. "If you don't mind me asking, how are you being punished for your mistake?"
His face suddenly turned grave and he raised his arm, revealing his hideous hand. "Pride, Ms. Connors, is a terrible sin. For that, I have been punished every day for a very long time. As for this punishment," he held his hand a tad bit higher "it will all be over soon enough. Goodbye Ms. Connors." And with those final, haunting words, he left the room.
And I was left in silence, with nothing but my scattered thoughts and a dumbfounded look on my face. Before I could start asking myself the deep questions, the door was thrown open and wide two red-headed boys sprung into the room, the faint sound of chaos coming from down the hallway.
"ACE!" Fred yelled, jumping onto the foot of the bed. "YOU'RE ALIVE!" he threw his arms around my shoulders tightly before he made way for George, who tucked himself bedside me and pressed his lips to my forehead, each eyelid, the tip of my nose, and finally my lips.
"It would seem so" I said against his lips. They both seemed so relieved. This was definitely not the way I thought they would react when they got the news. Unless.... "Who called you?"
"McGonagall" Fred said, getting up and crossing over to the door. "But listen, we can't stay too long. Until your dad gets here, you aren't supposed to have visitors. And since we aren't family....."
"Yet" George whispered against my neck, which he seemed to rest on.
"We set off some fireworks on every floor, so the nurses will be too busy deal with that than to check up on you." His eyes flitted over to George for a moment before he opened the door a crack.
He yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "So, I have enough proof to show that you are alive, breathing and all that nonsense. I think I'll just leave you two.... alone" with a wink, he slipped out the door and ran down the hallway.
George finally removed his face from the crook of his neck and looked up at me with glassy eyes. "You," he reached his hands up and placed one on either one of my cheeks. "You beautiful, wonderful girl" he brought his lips to mine, and then proceeded to kiss every inch of my exposed skin in urgency. "You have no idea how worried I was when McGonagall called. She said that you were in the hospital and that we needed to meet her inside before we came to see you."
Carefully, he pushed a stray hair out of my face. "It took me less than a minute to apparate over here. Do you know how many horrible scenarios you can imagine in a minute? I.... I don't even want to think about it. I'm just so glad that you're okay..." He stopped and took hold of my face yet again, forcing me to look into his eyes. "You are okay, right?"
"Didn't McGonagall tell you?" I asked and he shook his head.
"No, she said it was something you should explain yourself" he said, searching my face. "You look okay. Are you....?"
I looked away, biting my bottom lip. "Yeah, I'll be fine" I shrugged.
George let out a relieved sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "Well! That's great!" He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him, yet again. "Now, how did you end up here in the first place? Did you finally fall down the Grand Staircase?"
I shook my head and looked down. George narrowed his eyes. "Well, did you get the flu or something?" Yet again, I shook my head. "Try flying and ended up in the Whomping Willow?" Yet another rejection.
Carefully, my fingers looped through his, against my cheek, and I slowly lowered them down to the bed. "No, no, it's none of that" I whispered.
"Then what is it?" he laughed. I shook my head and he laughed some more, holding our hands to his chest. "Ace, come on, don't be embarrassed!" he chuckled, kissing the back of my hand. "Plus, I hate to rush you, dear, but I'm sort of on a time limit."
I pried apart our hands and pointed to the clipboard that one of the Healers had left on tiny, wooden table across the room. George gave me a curious look before he got off the bed and crossed the room.
Those three steps he took were enough to make my heartbeat suddenly jump up to a ridiculous rate and my palms start to sweat. The air had seemed to be sucked out of the room because I obviously couldn't catch any.
And he picked up the clipboard, and my heart dropped.
His eyes flew over the page, his lips mouthing out the words as he read them. "Memoire Floue...Memoire Floue. Where have I heard that before?"
"It was in the Daily Profit a few weeks ago" I whispered. "It was made illegal because it was so.... highly addictive?"
George furrowed his brow and looked down at the paper. "If it's illegal... Then why was there approximately 100 times of the recommended dose in your system?" He sounded confused as he sat down on the tiny table and placed the clipboard in his lap.
"I've been taking it to stop the nightmares" I whispered, sliding down against my pillows. "And hallucinations."
"You didn't tell me it had got that bad..." he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "And you didn't tell me that you got a prescription for this potion either? Why? Did you think I would judge you for it or....?"
I sighed, knowing the tears were going to come sooner or later. "That's because I didn't have a prescription for it." George opened his eyes, looking more confused than when we started. "I stole it, George. I've been stealing this potion every time I came to the hospital, starting when I came to visit our dad."
"Have you been taking this much potion the whole time?" he whispered, taking his turn to avoid eye contact.
I shook my head and looked past him, out the window and into the grey sky. "I started taking a higher dose around April last year..."
George snapped his head towards me suddenly and placed the clipboard on the table. "When I left?" his voice rose now, edging at mad. I nodded and he stood up, slamming his fists against the window before resting his head on the glass. "You've been acting so odd lately... I should have known something was wrong." He stood like there for several agonizing minutes before taking a deep breath and speaking again.
"And how did the potion manage to get into your system now, if its been discontinued?" he sighed. I couldn't see his face, but I could only imagine that he was tired, and confused, and had his eyes shut tight as he tried desperately to figure out what the hell was going on.
"I tried to make it myself." I was at a loss for words. No matter how I spun it, there was no way to justify what I had done. But I could handle these questions, I had answers for these questions. "I think I may have made a mistake somewhere when making it."
"You screwed it up because you are so utterly and completely horrible at potions" George sneered darkly. I wasn't quite sure whether he was trying to lighten the mood, or tear me down in order to make himself feel less guilty. He didn't need to feel guilty though, he didn't know about half of the things going on with me, because my main objective was to keep him in the dark.
Suddenly, he turned around and to stare at me with eyes filled with some sort of emotion that I couldn't place. The confusion was gone, but was slowly being overlapped by anger and, if I was reading him right, which I nearly always did, pain.
"If you've been taking it this long... does that mean you didn't feel a thing when we first had sex?" The anger dropped from his voice suddenly and he took a step back, as if to physically shield himself from the answer he thought was coming. "That every single time since then has meant nothing?.... Do you even remember any of it?"
But his words hurt me worse than a thousand Cruciatus curses. The fact that he thought that I cared so little about our relationship, that I was so heartless that a moment that special to me would mean so little? That that memory meant to much to him.
"I'll take your silence as a no" he whispered, taking a step towards the door.
With every single one of the stiff and aching muscles I had, I pulled myself up in bed, reaching towards him involuntarily, causing him to shrink back even farther. "You don't understand!" I choked out, the tears suddenly welling up. Or had I already been crying, and just hadn't noticed because I was so fixated on the look of betrayal on George's face.
"I had stopped. I stopped taking the potion over the summer" I whispered, trying to sooth him back to me. "I stopped taking the potion because I wanted to feel something when I was around you! I didn't need it because you heal me better than any potion, protect me from every memory."
But his face didn't waver from the expression of indisputable agony he displayed. "How would I even know if you're telling the truth to me, Ace? You've been lying for so goddamn long, I don't even know who the real you is anymore!" He made a noise of frustration as he looked me over.
"I'm still me..." I couldn't hear the words, but I knew he heard them loud and clear. His face softened, barely noticeable in the way that the corners of his eyes turned slightly down and his knuckles unclenched so they were no longer white.
"Then tell me why, if I was so good for you, why you started the potion again? And don't tell me its stress from school, because you're too proud to resort to something that low. It had to be something big. Which means that it probably involves protecting someone else, like always."
How did he manage to know me so well, as if he could perform occlumency without leaving any indication? He was so close, so close that I just wanted to shout the answer, and let him know the truth, and cry in his arms as he promised to make everything all better.
Or was he too close? Too close to knowing that he was in danger; that everyone was in danger? I had gone to all this trouble to protect him and he was too close to ruining it. If he figured it out, then I'd surely lose him forever.
And I would rather live without George Weasley in my world, rather than in a world without George Weasley.
Mustering up all of the courage I could find, pushing back all of the tears I knew I could save for later, I opened my mouth and spoke the words that I never thought I would have to hear. "You're right. The truth is that I never stopped taking the potion. That I haven't felt anything, sadness, rejection, happiness, or even love in almost a year. I didn't feel anything when I was with you, or when I was with you." I swallowed back the truth and tried to be as straight-faced as possible.
George, mimicking my stone cold expression, laid his hand on the door, and turned the handle. "Goodbye Acelynne" he said, slipping through the crack and disappearing down the hallway.
It took all of 5 seconds for the sound of his footsteps to die away, and it took all of 5.0001 seconds for me to completely break down, realizing that the most important person in my life would never speak to me ever again.