Chapter 14

Camellia woke late the next morning, sunlight peeking through the curtains around her infirmary bed. She curled up into a ball, squeezing her eyes shut.

So much had happened yesterday…Camellia sighed and opened her eyes. She may as well face the day with her head held high. Sitting up, she rubbed at her forehead, relieved that the pain was gone.

Frowning slightly, Camellia's thoughts returned to the previous day again. She had had so many flashbacks…she had been to Hogwarts before. But the Hogwarts that Camellia remembered didn't match up with the Hogwarts that she attended. Not only that, but no one knew her here. Not even Professor Dumbledore, she mused. But…he looked so much older in her memories…

The soft tapping of shoes on the stone floor drew Camellia out of her thoughts. Madame Jones drew back the curtains around the bed, letting in more of the mid-morning sun.

"Good morning Camellia. Feeling better?"

Camellia nodded. "My headache's gone."

"That's a relief." The mediwitch pursed her lips as she cast a spell over Camellia. Seemingly satisfied with the results, Madame Jones nodded and tucked away her wand. "Your friend, Miss Parkinson, stopped by this morning with your things. You're going to stay here and rest, dear. You'll be free to go tomorrow morning."

"But I'm fine!" Camellia protested, about to swing her legs over the side of the bed.

Madame Jones shook her head. "You collapsed yesterday. You aren't going anywhere, Camellia." With that, the older woman handed the girl her books and walked away, leaving Camellia alone with her thoughts.

Camellia spent the rest of her morning staring out the window near her bed, halfheartedly doing the homework that she'd had in her bag the day before. Sometime after lunch, she begged some books on healing off of Madame Jones, and started leafing through them. But whatever she did, her mind kept drifting off to all that had happened the previous day.

By the end of the school day, when she could hear all the students of Hogwarts chattering away and running off to who knows where, Camellia had accidentally snapped a quill in half, had spilled ink all over the sheets, had read the same sentence over and over, and had needed to restart her homework assignments several times.

Putting her head into her hands, Camellia somehow managed to refrain from screaming. She was no coward, she knew, but the idea of dealing with whatever memories had shown up left her feeling queasy and uncertain. A knock on the partially open infirmary door drew her attention.

"Rose? Margaret?" A smile tugged at the corners of Camellia's mouth as her friends walked into the hospital wing.

Rose sat primly on a nearby chair, looking through her bookbag, while Margaret plopped down at the foot of the bed.

"Malfoy's making us practice extra-long tomorrow, by the way." Margaret said petulantly. Camellia grimaced.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. He's never happy." Margaret tucked some hair behind her ear, frowning. "I just hope we don't get much more homework this week. I've already got a gazillion things to do for runes, and my uncle wrote and said I should do some sort of independent study to look more impressive after graduation…" She rolled her eyes.

"Speaking of homework—" Rose handed Camellia a stack of papers. "Here's what you missed today."

"…thanks." Camellia took her homework, not looking Rose in the eyes.

"Do…" Rose fidgeted, looking uncharacteristically nervous. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

Camellia stared at her books unseeingly. "Not really." She blinked and looked toward Rose. "I…I think that I just need to sort through things." She murmured.

Margaret leaned towards Camellia eagerly. "Did you—" Rose shot her a glare. "—remember anything?" She finished, backing up slightly.

"Bits and pieces…" Camellia rubbed her head, eventually looking up at Margaret. "I just…" She frowned. "I have to work through this on my own."

Margaret stared at Camellia for a moment before nodding. "Just don't let it affect quidditch." The blonde girl smiled impishly. "Malfoy might freak out, and he won't be nearly as handsome if he does. Right, Rose?"

"Margaret!" Rose looked shocked. And just like that, the dam of awkwardness between the three girls seemed to disappear as Camellia and Margaret started laughing.

"Right, you might not have heard!" Margaret gasped, pointing at Camellia. "But yesterday, someone offered to help a certain Miss Parkinson out in looking for you—"

Rose, moving faster than Camellia had ever seen, all but dove at Margaret, covering Margaret's mouth with her hand. She looked pointedly at them both, spine perfectly straight.

"He did offer to help look for you, Camellia, but that is hardly any cause for Margaret to be making these ridiculous comments about him."

Camellia failed to stifle her grin. "So why are you stopping her from talking?"

"Because," Rose looked a bit flustered. "there isn't any reason—I mean, our families have known each other for quite some time, of course he would help me." She frowned. "What neither of us need, though, is for rumors to start. Malfoy and I are friendly, but nothing more." Rose finally moved her hand from Margaret's face.

"Speaking of the rumor mill—" Margaret started, ignoring Rose's long-suffering sigh. "You might want to be ready for lots of staring tomorrow."

Camellia flopped back on the pillows, covering her eyes. "…great."

"I mean, it's not all too bad, I guess." Margaret reasoned. "Most people were shocked that you could make a patronus. One theory is that you worked for the ministry, keeping the dementors on Azkaban. Then they rebelled against your might and magic, but somehow couldn't completely get rid of the great Camellia." She grinned. "That might be my favorite."

Camellia huffed a laugh. "I guess I can deal with something like that. It'll just be irritating." She glanced at Margaret. "How much do you think everyone will be staring?" Margaret shrugged.

"That isn't the only thing that caught everyone's attention, though." Rose said slyly, leaning forward. "Apparently Riddle was the one who found you, Camellia. Care to tell us about that?"

The black-haired girl sighed, rolling her eyes. "I wasn't…I didn't really have my head on straight at that point." She started, not looking at her friends. "I was just going wherever my feet were taking me and not paying attention to where I was going and he was there all of a sudden." Camellia rambled. "Then…he brought me here. And I passed out." She looked up at Rose and Margaret. "That's all."

Rose looked at Margaret smugly, apparently glad to tease someone else about a boy. "Well, apparently some student was out of bed after curfew, and saw Riddle carrying you in his arms like some helpless princess."

Camellia snorted. "Right, I'm a princess. But actually, from what I can remember my feet were on the ground." She paused for a moment, thinking. "They weren't great at holding me up, though. I was probably leaning on him…a lot." She fought down the blush that threatened to rise at the memory as Margaret started snickering.

"What's that rhyme the muggleborns chant? Cammy and Riddle, sitting in a—"

Camellia lobbed a pillow at her.

Rose and Margaret ended up staying and visiting for nearly an hour, chatting and laughing with Camellia. The green-eyed girl smiled to herself after her friends left the hospital wing. School had been so hectic that the three of them really hadn't had time to just sit and talk lately. Maybe getting stuck in the infirmary wasn't too awful, she thought to herself, if it let them all hang out a bit.

Camellia's moment of contentedness didn't last long, though, as her mind circled back to what the girls had talked about. She shook her head, burying her blushing face in her hands as she tried not to think about Tom all but carrying her all the way down from the seventh floor. He always seemed to find her when she needed help…Camellia shook her head again, more forcefully this time, and drew her knees up to her chest, staring at the foot of her bed. She didn't need to be thinking about Tom right now.

Camellia blew her bangs out of her eyes. She'd been putting it off all day, but she knew that she would have to deal with what she had remembered. And it would be better to start sorting through her memories in private, Camellia reasoned…and it seemed easier than dwelling on a certain dark-eyed boy…but if the inkling of the idea she was forming about her memories was true…

A hearty laugh drew Camellia out of her thoughts. Here came Professor Slughorn.

Followed by none other than Tom Riddle, carrying vials of potions.

Camellia tensed, and she was suddenly acutely aware of her appearance. Looking away from the approaching pair, she frowned at her reaction. After all, Tom had already seen her looking much worse, she reminded herself.

Slughorn gave a great start, although it was painfully obvious that he had been well aware of her presence in the hospital wing.

"Camellia, m'girl!" Slughorn boomed, beaming at her. Camellia hid her grimace with a smile. She should have expected Slughorn to be curious.

"Hullo," The girl murmured, eyes darting between Tom and Slughorn.

"Just who I was hoping to see!" The rotund man proclaimed, absentmindedly waving his wand to summon a trolley. "Here, m'boy, set the potions down here." He gave Tom a hearty pat on the back. "Keep the lady company while I hand these off to Ethel, then." Slughorn laughed as he pushed the trolley towards Madame Jones, standing in her office doorway, having heard all the commotion.

"Er…" Tom and Camellia looked at each other for a few moments. "So…you've been helping Professor Slughorn?" Camellia asked, not quite meeting Tom's eyes.

"Not exactly." He replied, shifting his weight slightly. "He mentioned that he was bringing up new potions for Madame Jones, and I offered my assistance."

Camellia scratched at the back of her head. "Oh."

"You've been laid up in here, then?" Tom asked, somehow managing to sound both curious and apathetic at the same time. Camellia made a face.

"I'm fine, Madame Jones is just being fussy." She muttered, fidgeting with the hem of her blanket. "I thought I was going to go mad in here."

"You always say you're fine." Tom grinned slightly, and Camellia couldn't help but to mirror him.

"I am, though."

"Even after yesterday?"

As frustrating as she could find his endless curiosity about her condition, Camellia found herself grateful that there wasn't much beating around the bush. He was always so direct.

"I will be. As soon as I can get out of here, anyway." Camellia glanced towards Slughorn and Madame Jones. "Sorry, by the way."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"…skipping out on tutoring." Camellia muttered. "How…how long did you wait?"

"Not long." For someone not trying to be especially reassuring, Tom somehow was in his offhandedness. "Your friends let me know you'd wandered off, and I figured when you didn't show up on time that you were still hiding somewhere."

"Camellia Wheatley!" Slughorn had apparently finished handing off the potions to Madame Jones. "How fortunate that I found you here!"

Camellia glanced at Tom out of the corner of her eyes, barely managing to not roll them at Slughorn's transparency.

"—Why, a nearly fully-formed patronus, and at your age. What a marvelous accomplishment! You know, I'm hosting a party soon, just a few promising students—"

Camellia found herself struggling to pay attention to Slughorn's long-winded invitation to his 'Slug Club'. Ultimately, Tom came to her rescue again, noting that it was time for dinner, and shouldn't the two of them let her rest?

As the two of them left, Camellia found her gaze lingering on Tom. When he glanced back, she offered a small wave and a weak smile. He nodded before once again engaging Slughorn in small talk, directing the larger man to the Great Hall and disappearing from sight.