For the "Women To Look Up To" Challenge.
"Fueled by Ashes"
The first thing that Katie really registers is pain. It's all consuming – she doesn't know her own name, or why this is happening. All she knows is pain. Every single fiber of her being cries out in agony.
The second thing she registers is the sound – someone is screaming. It's a terrifying sound, and Katie fervently hopes it isn't human. It doesn't sound human; it's too primal, too animalistic.
The third thing that penetrates her currently raw and fragile mind is the fact that she's the one screaming. Her throat is torn from overuse.
The fourth thing is a voice, barely rising above the verbal expression of her agony.
"Katie? Katie, can you hear me?"
Katie's wounded consciousness is just starting to kick into gear, and she wonders detachedly who this Katie person is, and why she doesn't just answer. The voice sounds worried.
Suddenly, ice dribbles through Katie's charred, ashy veins. It burns as much as it soothes, but her terrifying screams taper into a pained whimper anyway, because at least this is a good burn.
Her mind begins to reboot, finally able to focus on something besides the anguish.
"Katie?" the voice whispers. The person – who Katie's sluggish brain eventually identifies as her mother – sounds afraid.
Katie can only whimper in response.
"Is this normal?"
Another voice, male, foreign, soft, answers. "This entire situation isn't exactly normal, Mrs. Bell. There isn't a precedent. We're doing what we can for your daughter, ma'am. I know you're worried, but believe me when I say she is getting better."
"It's been over five months! My Katie has been nearly vegetative for over five months but for agonized screams, and all you can tell me is that you're 'Doing what you can?' That's not good enough!"
Katie tries to speak, tries to tell her mother to calm down, that it isn't the Healer's fault, but the word gets stuck in her throat.
The Healer's calm voice comes again. "I'm very sorry, Mrs. Bell. I know this isn't easy for you."
Katie has never heard her mother's voice sound as cold as it does on her next words. "No. It isn't. And sorry doesn't fix my girl."
Katie swallows, her throat dry. Still, she forces the single word out. "Mum."
She can tell both of them are immediately beside the bed. "Katie? Katie?" Her mum's voice is frantic.
The Healer, on the other hand, keeps his tone perfectly modulated. "Miss Bell, I need you to try to open your eyes for me. The lights are dimmed, so you should be able to."
Her eyelids are glued together. Gradually, she peels them apart, though only slightly. Even the dim light burns her long-dormant retinas.
"There she is," the Healer murmurs. "My name is Healer Kent. Can you tell me how you're feeling, Miss Bell?"
Katie tries to speak, but the words stick somewhere. Healer Kent seems to understand immediately, as he conjures a glass with water. "Sorry," he says. "You're probably terribly thirsty. Katie nods weakly, her neck muscles trembling from disuse. He helps her sit up and drink.
"Thank you," she says first. The Healer nods, setting the glass on the table beside her bed.
"It's there if you need more." Katie nods. "Now, Miss Bell, can you tell me how you're feeling?"
"Katie," she says. "Everyone calls me Katie."
Healer Kent nods, smiling. "So your memories are intact, then?"
"Yes," Katie says softly. "Or, most of them. What happened?"
"Well, yes, that can happen. Under times of extreme duress, memories don't form properly – they aren't stored. You'll likely never get them back."
Katie purses her lips, frowning. That doesn't sit right with her, that a chunk of her memories are just gone. It makes her feel unusually vulnerable, which she doesn't like.
"Katie?" the Healer says, jolting her back into the present. She looks at him inquiringly. "I really do need to know how you're feeling."
Blushing lightly, Katie curses both her pale complexion and currently wandering mind. "Sorry." Katie assesses her current state and decides on, "Burnt."
The Healer raises an eyebrow. "Burnt?"
Katie nods. "Yes. Burnt. Like, fire went through ravaging everything and left a pile of ashes behind."
"And you are that pile of ashes?"
"Yes."
Healer Kent looks like he's trying not to laugh. "All right. And how is your pain?"
Katie is impressed with his ability to maintain an even tone of voice. "Not too bad, at the moment. I just feel… raw."
He nods. "I'm not surprised. That was a very Dark curse you suffered, Katie. You're lucky to be alive right now."
"But what happened?" Katie asks, curious.
"You touched a cursed necklace. What's the last thing you can remember?"
Thinking back, Katie remembers Hogsmeade. Leanne. She remembers going to the Three Broomsticks ladies' room, and then nothing. She tells Healer Kent this, and he seems pensive.
"I wonder," the Healer says pensively, "if perhaps your memory loss isn't entirely due to stress."
"What do you mean?" Katie asks.
Healer Kent shakes his head. "I'm no Auror," he says.
"And this isn't a court," Katie replies. "Please, Healer." She looks him straight in the eye – his are brown, like hers, but a softer shade, and kind. He has an interesting face, she thinks absently. Smooth, but speckled with an unusual number of moles. He's young for his profession, which would normally make her doubt his skills, but from what she's seen so far, he seems competent, with a clever mind.
"It's only that… I mean, I've not heard the entire story, but episodic memory loss combined with what your friend said about you acting strangely… I wouldn't be altogether surprised if you'd been Imperioused beforehand."
And fury begins to course through Katie's veins as she thinks about that fact. Katie has always been strongly independent, always pushing off any offers of help. She wants to do things by herself, because it's the only way she truly feels like she earns them. She doesn't like giving control to other people and it's infuriating that someone would ever attempt to take it. Not to mention succeed.
The Healer seems to see the burning in her eyes. "It's just a theory," he says quickly. "Only a possibility."
But he's too late to put out the blaze his theory ignited. She lost over five months of her life to some idiot who decided to play God in her life? No. That is not okay with her. And Katie vows, in that moment, to find out who did this to her and to make them pay. Whoever did this will pay dearly.
Just under two weeks later, Katie's back at school and really sick of everyone asking. She understands Leanne. Leanne's honestly concerned. She understands Harry – he has the weight of their world on his shoulders, in his own mind, and he feel like he has to be everyone's champion, so of course he wants to know. But everyone really just needs to mind their own business and let Katie get back to trying to catch up. It's fruitless, she knows. She'll never be prepared in time for her N. E. W. T.s. She missed almost six entire months of her seventh year – another thing that the SOB who hexed her took. She won't graduate with her class, she won't be able to start the working world with all her friends next year. She'll always be lagging a year behind the rest of them. It isn't fair.
Katie hears the rumors. Harry's convinced that Malfoy did it, but Katie's not so sure. Harry hates Malfoy, and she knows he probably wants it to be him just so that Harry has something to blame him for. It's a mentality Katie can predict but will never understand.
She learns things, though, being back at school. Some things that she thinks might actually be fact. Leanne mentions that no one else seems to know the necklace wasn't meant for her, but Harry seems to think it was intended for Dumbledore. This feels instinctively right to Katie – as though, even though she can't consciously remember, some part of her knows what happened that day. In some ways, this is even more frustrating. It doesn't quite seem fair, because it's as though her mind knows something, something important, something that could matter, but she just can't get to it, and that's just not fair. She feels helpless, used. She hates feeling this way. At the same time, too, she feels guilty. As though, if she were stronger, she could've prevented it. As though she should've been able to.
But it's over now, and Katie doesn't really see the point of guilt. It's not going to change anything. All it means is that now, she's got to do whatever she can to make up for it. And that becomes the force that drives her life, this intense need to make up for letting herself be used. It's not logical, and it's not coherent, but it's how she feels, and that's what matters.
Katie throws herself completely into everything she does. She plays Quidditch with a ferocity never seen before. She trains herself, honing her instincts and practicing spells over and over again until defensive magic is second nature to her and she fights like a warrior. She starts pulling all Os in her classes, something she's never done before – not that she was ever a bad student, but never exceptional, either.
And when it all reaches a head nearly a year later, and her Galleon burns saying Harry's at Hogwarts, Katie is ready. She's ready for this, bouncing with anticipation, because this is her chance. This is her chance to make amends.
During the battle, Katie is as unstoppable as a force of nature. She whirls one way then another, throwing spells out like a machine. She loses count of how many Death Eaters fall at the end of her wand as she acts on autopilot.
And when it's all over, when the ruins of Hogwarts lie around them, Katie finally, for the first time, feels really good. She feels like she's done something worthwhile.
And she makes sure to get one good hex off at Draco Malfoy, too, just in case Harry was right.