Songs for this chapter: Riot by Three Days Grace and Dirty Little Secret by All American Rejects
I actually felt well rested in the morning, which was not a frequent occurrence as of late, and it allowed me to feel just a bit of curiosity about the boys even if I was still quite angry with Harry. I removed the sticking charm from my hangings and looked out in the dormitory to see if they other girls had gotten up yet. It appeared that I was the last to rise today, so I had privacy while I changed into my school clothes. I threw on my robes and ducked into the bathroom to contend with the tangled cloth mope masquerading as my hair. Thankfully my face wasn't as dull and lifeless today so I didn't have to worry about wearing makeup.
With my hair brushed and my teeth clean I went back into the dormitory and fetched my bag. I packed it full of books, smiling at the calories I would burn just walking around with this bag all day, and I headed off down stairs. There were still a few people milling about in the common room and I gave them a polite nod before I slid out of the portrait hole.
I was just entering the great hall when I heard the shouting. It boggled my mind, because I was certain I heard the name Ronald shouted and I did not recognize the voice yelling at all. I couldn't think of anyone other than myself or Hermione that would be yelling at the boys today so I found it a bit confusing. When I was inside the hall I better understood the situation. There was a bright red letter screaming in Ron's face. I remembered what a howler was from one of the books I had gotten when I first entered the wizarding world. I could just make out the top of Ron's head sunk down as far as possible in his chair. I thought about going over to offer him a kind word, but Harry was sitting next to him, and I felt my anger at being ignored all summer flare up again. Instead I walked over to the Hufflepuff table and sat beside Cedric who as just finishing up his toast.
"Good morning," I said with a smile as I joined him at the table.
"What's she doing here?" groaned Zacharias Smith from a few seats down.
"Good morning to you as well Zach," I said with a slightly strained smile, pretending that he didn't annoy me. "Woke up on the wrong side of the bed did you?"
"No, but I think you're on the wrong side of the hall this morning," he snapped at me. "The reckless and stupid are seated on the other side."
"Thanks for that Smith," Cedric said shortly. "Bianca is my guest, and I would appreciate it if you could be respectful to her."
"Don't worry about it Cedric," I murmured. "I don't seem to be very well liked here at Hogwarts, but I don't really care. Only some opinions matter to me."
"Like mine?" he asked with a chuckle, leaning in as if to kiss me.
"Yes yours," I said, turning my head to the side at the last second so he kissed my cheek.
I felt badly for it, but I wasn't quite ready to take that step with anyone, even as sweet as he always was to me.
"Oh you have got to be kidding me," Zacharias groaned. "She's like ten Cedric."
"I'm twelve thank you very much," I snapped at him, anger flaring up in my chest at his audacity.
"Fourteen and twelve aren't really that far apart," Cedric said in a voice that didn't sound as calm as he might have liked it to be.
"Almost fifteen," Zacharias pointed out rudely.
"Not quite yet," Cedric said with forced calm. "And still not an insurmountable age gap."
"Not only are you taking a Slytherin's sloppy seconds, but you're meddling with a little slut! What's wrong with you," he scoffed as he got up to leave. "What would your father say?"
"That language is unacceptable," Cedric said in a steely voice. "And for your information my father thinks she is lovely."
"It's fine. He didn't say anything that wasn't true," I muttered as I abandoned my seat at the table, painfully aware of the fact that my past would always ruin my present. "I think I'll go get my timetable now."
I hurried away before he could say anything else to me, only slowing long enough to snatch a piece of toast off of a plate on the end when I caught Cedric watching me with concern. I cut McGonagall off halfway through her rounds of the Gryffindor table and collected my timetable while fighting what felt like an epic battle not to cry. My timetable said that my first lesson was potions, but that I didn't have to be there for half an hour so I left the great hall and went in search of a bit of privacy.
I tucked myself away in the girls' bathroom, in the furthest stall from the door, where I munched on my toast and cried over the fact that I really did care what other people thought of me. I cared that the age difference between Cedric and I seemed to be an issue for some people. I cared that someone thought I was a slut. I cared that I hadn't been able to just let Cedric kiss me. I think I cared most of all that I had been referred to as someone's sloppy seconds, particularly Malfoy's. He had taken a lot of things from me, but I was only now beginning to understand that he had taken my reputation as well.
I had a good cry, and then I washed my face and waited a few minutes for the redness to clear from my eyes before heading down to the dungeons. Of course potions was with the Slytherin students again this year. I shook my head and went over to the end of the table Hermione was sitting at with the boys. I gave them a nod, but no more of a greeting before I started pulling out my supplies.
We were halfway through the lesson about an enlargement potion when a note slide across the table toward me. I picked it up, and immediately recognized Harry's handwriting. I thought about reading it, but I was still too angry over all the times he hadn't written. So instead I crumpled it up and threw it into the fire beneath my cauldron. I registered his shocked intake of breath, but I went right back to finely dicing my daisy roots.
There was soon a new note sliding across the table, but I immediately tossed it into the fire and continued what I was doing. When I heard his quill begin to scratch across parchment again I turned to face him, and with a scowl I set his scroll on fire before turning back to my potion and ignoring his quick shuffle to put out the fire. He seemed to get the point after that, and stopped passing notes over. I was relieve that we hadn't drawn Snape's attention to us, but I knew this wouldn't be the end of our fight.
The potions needed to be left brewing overnight, so we left them on the fires and left to head to herbology out on the grounds. I barely made it further than the entrance hall before I felt a hand close on my wrist. Panic immediately slammed through my chest, and I jerked my hand free, reaching for my wand as I lurched out of the open doors to the grounds. I barely managed to contain the urge to run off to Hagrid's hut, and the only reason a hex didn't fall from my lips was because I saw it was Harry that grabbed me as I turned. I might be mad at him, but I wasn't that mad. Instead I glared at him, slid my wand back up my sleeve, and turned to stalk off only to have him grab my wrist once more, this time too firmly for me to pull free.
"Let go of me!" I shouted at him.
"Not until you talk to me," he said tersely.
"Oh, now you want to talk to me? Ignore me all summer long, and just expect me to forgive and forget," I yelled, wrenching my arm painfully free. "Well you know what Harry Potter, I am all out of forgiveness. That well has run dry."
"Would you at least give me a chance to explain," he asked quietly, the fight seeming to go out of him rapidly. "Please?"
"You can talk until we get to the green houses. I make no promises after that," I muttered as I turned to walk to class.
"I didn't get anyone's letters this summer." He explained in a rush. "A house-elf named dobby showed up in my room trying to convince me not to come back to school, and he wanted me to believe that no one from Hogwarts cared about me. I promise I would have written back to you if I had gotten your letters. Well actually I guess I wouldn't have, since the Dursleys locked Hedwig in her cage, and I would have had to use magic to get her out."
"You could have used our owl for return post," I shrugged before his words really caught up with me. "Wait, they locked her up all summer? That's animal cruelty."
"It was dreadful," he agreed. "She was so miserable, but at least now she gets to fly around again."
"Maybe I can convince Albus to get a muggle phone, and then this next summer I can just call you." I sighed turning to face him. "Look… as long as you've got my back this year, I will pretend this summer didn't happen."
"I've always got your back Bianca," Harry said looking pensive. "Why are you worried though?"
"I don't know," I sighed, and it was only partially a lie. "Breakfast made it seem like I might not have a lot of friends this year. Maybe it was just a bad morning, but it just felt… unpleasant."
"Maybe," he said with a frown.
He went to say more, but he was interrupted by the arrival of Professor Sprout. She took us to greenhouse three and started her lecture on mandrakes. Hermione quickly answered several questions right out of the gate, and it occurred to me that I had spent all summer worrying about food, playing music, or spending time with Cedric. I hadn't bothered to look at any of my schoolbooks, and that meant as a friend of Hermione I was already behind. I turned my focus sharply back to Professor Sprout and the potted mandrakes that surrounded us.
After the first day, the beginning of term was fairly uneventful. Other than Zacharias no one seemed to take issue with my pairing off with Cedric. I thought Ron might have an objection based on some strange looks that crossed his face when he looked at the pair of us, but he never said anything for which I was grateful. Malfoy made it clear in two different letters that he sent me that he did not approve at all, but I cared very little what he thought. Even if his hex did begin to punish me through periodically throughout the day when I did not break it off with Cedric.
Things were good between myself, Ron Hermione, and Harry. It was nice to have them to spend time with in the common room and during lessons, when last year I did not always have that luxury. It was soothing to have friends when I had been so terrified of being without them this year. It was also a bit nerve wracking to spend so much time with Hermione when she was so observant and I still had a secrets to hide.
I had taken to dressing in my bed, with the hangings closed each morning because she seemed to linger while dressing as if she were trying to catch a better glimpse of me. She hadn't been doing it at first, but then one night I had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and I hadn't bothered to cover up my form revealing pajamas before slipping out my bed. I had assumed that everyone would be sleeping and I wouldn't have to worry.
Imagine my surprise when I spotted Hermione sitting her bed with the hangings open and her wand tip illuminated so she could read. I had run into the bathroom to take care of my needs, and then commandeered one of the robes that was hanging on a hook in the bathroom to hold awkwardly around myself on the trip back to the bed so she couldn't see how fat I had been getting this year. She'd been visibly suspicious of me since then. It was nice that she cared about my health I guess, but I really didn't need anyone else to point out how big I had gotten so I was avoiding that conversation with her.
Harry and Ron were still completely clueless so I knew she hadn't brought it up with them. Thankfully Cedric seemed to be equally oblivious. He had seemed to notice that as my lethargy grew from all the workouts I did trying to kill off the last of the weight I became slower walking through the corridors, but he simply matched my pace and occasionally asked if I was getting enough sleep. I just smiled instead of trying to explain that no I wasn't, and that there were way to many reasons for that.
"You're looking peaky today," Hermione said casually as the pair of us stood in the bathroom brushing our hair. "Maybe you ought to visit Madam Pomfrey."
"I'm just a little tired, nothing to worry about," I assured her, wondering if I should see her about why not matter what I did I always seemed to stay fat.
"You've seemed tired a lot late," she pointed out delicately. "It could be something simple, like needing a vitamin supplement, or it could be more serious. You shouldn't take risks with your health."
"I take vitamins every day," I lied with a dismissive roll of my eyes to sell it.
"Oh, what vitamins are you taking?" she asked, her eyes scanned me, and rather pointedly lingered on my mid section.
"A multivitamin," I shrugged, fighting to keep from compulsively crossing my arms over my stomach and drawing further attention to my failures. "Albus got them for me at a muggle store. They're chewable."
"Hmm," she said, and I could see that she was torn about if she should believe me. "Maybe you need a higher dose."
"I think I just need breakfast," I sighed as I walked out of the bathroom leaving her staring after me with a strange smile on her face.
I resolved right then and there to put a little distance between Hermione and myself. I couldn't tell if she had actively been trying to make me feel bad, or if she was just genuinely concerned for my health. I hoped it was the latter, but it still frustrated me to be confronted with my failing to get thin quickly enough. I started taking all of my meals, the ones I ate at least, with Cedric and staying out of the common room for as long as I could before curfew rolled around. I was spending more time in the library than I ever had before and my grades were showing a marked improvement. Not that they had been bad before, but I hadn't really been trying before, now while I was in need of something to occupy my time, and keep my secrets safe I was trying quite hard.
I heard through the grapevine about the dramatic entrance of Malfoy onto the Slytherin Quidditch team. I wasn't present for the actual event, since I was trying to keep Hermione at bay, but from what I heard it sounded like Malfoy's prejudices were still firmly intact. I sat angrily in the library wondering if I ever should have stood up for that boy after everything he had done. I found my hand resting on my bruised ribs while I contemplated the idea of evil. Was it possible for an evil child to be redeemed or would he always be the spitting image of his father in more ways than one?
His letters still kept coming, and I still suffered for every non-answer I gave him. It was hard to hide what was happening, but at least he was smart enough to send his letters so they arrived later in the day, and typically when there were not any witnesses around. I wondered if he had cast some sort of spell on his owl to facilitate that, but I wasn't about to ask him. Somehow I was managing to balance my flight from Hermione, my relationship with Cedric, my studies, and my subservience to that evil little prick. In one way I was proud of myself for it, but in others I was just disappointed that my life was still not quite my own. I channeled my frustrations in to working out harder and trying to drop more weight. I had ordered a scale through the post and I new that with my growth spurt that had me at five feet five inches now that my weight had also gone up to 110 as well. I was frustrated that it was so high and knew that I had my work cut out for me trying to get it down when I was still hovering there despite the fact that I had reduced my meals so much and was working out everyday.
Halloween snuck up on me, and I was rather surprised to find the great hall decorated with jack-o-lanterns and spider webs. I sat at Gryffindor table, wondering why I was sitting by myself. Where had the other gone? I had heard there might be a death day party taking place down in the dungeons, and I wondered if they had gone to that. If they had I was glad they hadn't invited me, spending the day around rotten food and cold specters did not sound at all appealing to me. I tried to enjoy the feast with Neville and Lavender, but it wasn't quite the same.
The feast was uneventful, and frankly a bit boring when you aren't partaking in any of the candy or other sweet treats. I was glad to leave when we were released. I was tired, my back was aching, and my feet were sore. I just wanted to throw down my heavy school bag, and slip into a hot bath. Today had taken it out of me even without working out. Between a particularly painful letter writing experience when I refused to answer about whether or not Albus was still seeking out information on Voldemort, and a night filled with nightmares I was exhausted.
My plans for sneaking into the girls' bathroom and commandeering it for the evening were shot to hell when I couldn't even make it up to my room. The second floor corridor was clogged with traffic, and even standing on my tiptoes I couldn't see past the crowd to find out what all the commotion was about. I leaned up against the wall to keep other people from bumping in to me and jostling my pain-riddled frame.
Eventually the crowd parted to let Albus through, and I finally saw what all the fuss was about. Someone had painted; at least I hoped it was paint, a message on the wall outside of the girls' bathroom on this floor. It wasn't nice, and I could see what looked to be a dead Mrs. Norris hanging from the lamp on the wall.
I probably should have stayed to find out more about what was going on, but something about the cat hanging from the lamp like that had bile rising in my throat. I turned and hurried off down a side corridor with a short cut up to the next floor. It was a bit more exerting, but it got me to Gryffindor tower before I became sick on the floor.
After I had cleaned up, I went to be. I went through the now familiar routine of performing a sticking charm on my hangings and only then removing my clothes for the day. The longer I stayed so big, the more uncomfortable I was with the idea of anyone catching sight of me without many layers of clothing on. I actually found myself looking forward to the nighttime hours when I could simply hide away. I just had to remind myself that with each day of hard work I would get just a little closer to not having to put so much work into looking socially acceptable. I fell asleep without much thought, but my dreams were full of dead cats and ghostly messages on the walls.
The next morning I found out what everyone knew about the Chamber of Secrets. In reality they didn't know much, and our teachers seemed to be completely against sharing anything with us. That in and of itself was disconcerting. I was tempted to try and wriggle more out of Albus at our next family dinner, but I got the feeling that even he wouldn't want to tell me. The environment was chalk full of fear. What was lurking in our corridors? Would it only attack animals or would it move on to humans now? Was I in jeopardy since my mother had been a muggleborn? Was harry?
"Do you think there will be any more attacks?" I asked Cedric as we sat together on the edge of the lake; just enjoying the sunlight while it was still present.
"I don't really know," he admitted, casually wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me closer to him. "I like to think that our teachers will keep up safe."
"I think they will," I agreed, sighing as a tiny bit of tension bled out of me.
"I have faith," he said softly before planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.
He had taken to doing that frequently; kissing my cheek, or my forehead, sometimes my hand. He hadn't tried to kiss my lips. I think he feared another rebuke, but their was something different about his face today. He looked determined, and I was not at all surprised when his fingers appeared under my chin, gently tilting my head up toward his. He moved slowly, with clear intention, and I understood that he was giving me plenty of time to turn away if I didn't want this.
I found for the first time since we had become a couple, that I really did want this. I wasn't afraid of what might happen. His fingers on my chin tingled pleasantly, and his breath washing over my cheek as he leaned in closer caused excited goose bumps to erupt on my arms. His lips were incredibly soft when they finally met mine, and I did not hesitate to kiss him back. He tasted sweet, and I found I wanted to lick his lips to get a better taste, but I retrained myself. Instead I gave him another peck before I pulled back and beamed at him.
"Thank you," he breathed quietly before turning to look out at the lake once more.
The sweetness of that moment seemed to be swallowed far to quickly by the fear that was growing thick in the air. Passing through the corridors had become a very trying experience. As time moved forward, it only seemed to grow worse. Filch's vigil outside the bathroom only made it more intense. He was a constant reminder of what had happened, of what could happen again.
I tried to focus entirely on my studies so I would not let that fear take up residence in my own life. Not to mention dealing with Malfoy and trying to avoid Hermione. When I saw less and less of Harry, I began to suspect he was doing the same thing with Quidditch. Even if we weren't spending much time together at the moment, I couldn't help but think that we certainly acted alike. It was that very thought that had me wondering if there was something other than fear Harry was hiding. I couldn't very well ask him without tipping suspicion in my own direction however.
I took to watching Harry for signs of what his secret was as we drew nearer to the first Quidditch match of the year. While I didn't get any closer to discovering what he was hiding from me, I noticed excitement starting to override fear in the hallways. Talk turned from the possibility of monsters to bludgers and quaffles.
Aggression grew as well. The rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor grew to an all-time high, and a fight seemed to always be just on the brink. I had taken to using as many secret passageways as I could to avoid getting caught in the middle if something were to happen.
I also spent as much time in the library as I could to research alternative ways of getting the truth out of someone if the plot to use Polyjuice potions didn't work. I couldn't stomach being any further involved with the plan because it involved interacting with Malfoy. I wanted nothing to do with him, and yet somehow even with my time spent hiding in the library or with Cedric who acted as a natural buffer I found I kept seeing him near me. He refrained from speaking to me, or even looking directly at me if I took notice of him.
Until the evening I found myself alone in the library save for Madam Pince and Malfoy. She was seated at her desk flipping through a book with an ear perked up listening for trouble making, and I was only pretending to read my book about veritaserum while my heart raced in my chest at the realization that Malfoy was openly watching me. As I grew more upset I seemed to get dizzier and dizzier which had become more and more of a problem over the course of the last couple weeks. I found myself rubbing absently at my breastbone willing the feeling to pass.
That turned into some sort of catalyst for Malfoy, and he lurched up from the table he had been sitting at, likely only pretending to read his book as well and crossed over to my table. I dropped my hand into my lap, stealing myself as I looked up to meet his gaze. I had expected familiar anger, but I was shocked to see that his face was pale and his eyes looked somewhat panicked. He stood behind the chair furthest from me, and I could practically see the wheels turning within his mind. He wanted to say something to me, but he was terrified of finding himself in even more trouble with the school.
"I'd like it if you'd come for a walk with me," he said quietly, his hands convulsing rhythmically on the chair he was holding on to.
There was one agonizing second where I thought I might have lost my mind in the flood of hysteria that swept through me, but I managed to grasp some semblance of calm from deep within myself. I forced a laugh out of my chest that I was pleased to hear only sounded slightly crazed.
"You can't seriously be asking me that can you?" I scoffed, hoping it would hide how afraid that request made me.
"I know we've had our differences, but I'd really just like to talk," he said, running his hands agitatedly through his hair. "I won't take up much of your time. I promise."
"You're really insane," I said, disgusted to hear that it came out more like a terrified whisper than I meant it to. "You're luck I'm even talking to you right now."
"You're awfully brave now," he said, his face darkening. "It's as if you think you aren't alone."
"I'm not," I said with a pointed look over at Madam Pince. "And it easy to be brave when one word from me about any further attack from you would see you expelled and sent home to your loving father."
"You wouldn't," he quailed.
"Don't tempt me," I said, forcing venom I couldn't really feel into my voice. "Please get away from me."
"No, I don't think I will," he said, discretely drawing his wand and tapping it against his thigh. "I think you ought to come with me on a little walk so I don't have to demonstrate to you what else the hex I placed on that letter can do to you."
That was enough to make my blood run cold. I had tried to make myself feel better this summer by telling myself that it had actually been his father to cast the spell that had been subjecting me to such pain and heartache. I knew that this boy couldn't possibly care for me because of the way he treated me, but until this moment I had been convinced that he also couldn't really hate me. I knew now that wasn't the case, and even though I knew that should be the reason I didn't leave the library with him I couldn't seem to stop myself. In the back of my mind I almost believed that I deserved whatever was about to come.
"Alright," I sighed as I stood from the table. "We should exit separately though, unless you want to get into trouble."
I could see that he didn't trust me, but I just gathered up the books I had been flipping through and took them to where Pince liked us to leave them so she could reshelf them herself. She gave me a slight nod of approval when I put them down gently, and then I turned away from her. I wanted to call out to her for help, but I knew that would be close enough to revealing what the letters were about to unleash nasty spell work on me. So I kept walking toward what felt like certain doom.
I could hear his footsteps echoing behind me as I stepped into the deserted corridor but I kept moving forward. I was going on autopilot, not sure where we should have this conversation, but he quickly took the decision out of my hands. My heart leapt up into my throat when I felt his hand close painfully tight around my upper arm and I wondered how his fingers could be overlapping his thumb when my arm was so big. Had his hands always been so large? I shuffled awkwardly to stay upright when he jerked me quickly into the nearest classroom.
The door slammed shut with a loud reverberating song and with it my last hope that this wasn't going to get out of control slipped away. I resigned myself to what was coming and closed my eyes expecting the blows to rain down immediately. I was surprised when instead he simply wrapped his free hand around my other arm and pushed me into the wall with surprisingly delicacy for him.
"I need you to tell me everything he knows about the Chamber of Secrets," he said in a firm yet desperate voice.
"I-I don't know," I choked out, my eyes shooting open to see what his face must look like when he sounded like that. "We've never talked about that."
"Don't lie," he growled. "I know that he tells you these sorts of things at those little dinners that you go to."
"We do talk about things at our dinners," I told him, since he already knew from our letters. "I don't deny that. It's just this isn't something we talk about. I haven't asked. Maybe because I don't want to know."
"Well I need you to ask," he directed. "Sooner rather than later. For now however I need you to answer the question I've been asking for weeks now. I don't know why you chose a beating every time over simply telling me how he banished the Dark Lord last year."
"I'm sure he didn't," I whispered, my mind jumping back to those jumbled moments in which I fought with Quirrell. "I told you that already."
"You lied," he barked at me, jerking my arms and causing my head to slam painfully into the stone wall. "Just tell the truth already."
"I won't tell you what happened!" I spat, with my eyes squeezed tightly shut against the pain ringing through my head.
It was that pain that distracted me from giving a better answer. For nearly a month now I had been giving different variations of the lie that I knew nothing, but in a moment of intense pain I had slipped. I had let him know for certain that I had been lying and in doing so I had rekindled that fire that had burned so brightly in him last year. I felt his hands convulse on my arm before gripping me more tightly. It was much to tight and hurt to the point that I knew he was bruising me. I opened my eyes to look at him and I saw a familiar almost blind rage in his eyes.
"You swore to me you knew nothing," he whispered dangerously as he brought his face closer to mine. "I took several lashing on your behalf from my father because he did not believe you. What had you done to me? Tell me the truth now!"
"No," I whispered shakily, more worried about keeping my own story to myself and protecting whatever Albus had done after I had lost consciousness than I was about the thrashing that was surely coming my way.
He did not hesitate. For one second I was relieved to have his hands no longer compressing my arms, but then they were raining down on me. He had learned from last year. He did not touch my face, or any part of me that would show above my clothes. He hit my arms at first, but then it was like something clicked into place in his mind and he aimed for my ribs and stomach. I cried out in terrible pain when he hit fresh and healing bruises.
I tried to curl in on myself to protect my body from the blows but I couldn't stop him. I wanted to reach for my wand to defend myself, but I was in such pain that they didn't seem to be listening to me. I heard a sickening crack and I knew even without the following wave of even more intense pain that he had broken my ribs. The sound I made when he hit me there again could only be described as animalistic and that somehow brought some sort of strength back to me.
When he swung for me again I caught his hand, and despite the way the impact stung me I held on to it. I took pleasure in the slight panic that welled up in his eyes when he pulled back and I did not release his hand. I capitalized on the moment and I threw myself at him despite how every movement caused agony. We tumbled to the floor, and even though every movement of our bodies only increased my pain, I held tightly to him. I fought not to feel my own body as I instead rained down blows on him. I wanted to crow with pleasure when his nose began to bleed but my success was short lived.
He flipped us over and had me pinned to the floor. It was so reminiscent of last spring that I could swear my heart stopped in my chest. I was in an all out panic simply clawing at him trying to get free after that. He was shouting something at me, but I couldn't hear him. I couldn't think, I couldn't see. I couldn't do anything but dissolve into a panicked mess. I felt like I was going to rip right out of my own skin in an effort to get away from him.
It took to long for me to realize that he wasn't on me anymore because of that. I felt like I wasn't breathing right, like I was over heated. I felt a lot of things but eventually I realized I didn't feel him so I opened my eyes. To my surprise he was sprawled on the floor beside me, staring at his strangely red hands with tears in his eyes. I painfully shuffled away from him, rubbing my own eyes to clear them of tears I hadn't realized were falling, in order to see him better.
I was shocked by what I saw. His face and hands were burned. His clothes seemed to be smoking as if they had tried to catch fire as well. He was clearly in a tremendous amount of pain. Had I done that? I patted myself down delicately to see if I was on fire while trying not to further injure myself. I felt warm but not burned. I knew instinctually that I must have lost control of my accidental magic again even if this was nothing like what had happened in the past.
"Get away from me," I whispered breathily as I tried desperately to stand up.
Surprisingly he did what I asked He spared me one terrified tear filled look before he fled from the room. I knew without a doubt that he would be heading to the hospital wing and with a sinking sensation I realized that I could not go. I wouldn't be able to go without drawing attention to us as a unit since he was going. It would obviously set off the spell and cause me further injury, as even the thought of simply trying to wait until he left and then go caused a sickening punching sensation to my already shattered rib.
So instead with shaking arms I drew my wand from my robe pocket finally. I waved it over myself whispering the spell Albus had taught me for mending my bag when it had torn from all the books I was carrying in it. I felt snapping and popping sensations in my chest that sent further ripples of pain through me but at least I could breathe with a little more ease. I ran my hand beneath my shirt and gingerly over my ribs. Clearly they hadn't mended all the way as I felt unnatural ridges that hadn't been there before, but it was the best I was going to get. I was more terrified of what further nastiness could be revealed in this horrible hex by my revealing what had happened to than I was of being disfigured and in this level of pain for the rest of my life. Yet somehow I was desperate for Albus to magically appear in this room and just know what had happened and save me. So desperate.
Instead of going to Albus though, I picked myself up off the ground, made my appearance as presentable as possible, and I snuck back to Gryffindor tower. Luckily it was late enough in the evening that the common room was mostly empty. I nodded to Fred and George when they waved at me with a smile, and then I slunk up to the dormitory. The other girls were thankfully asleep already so I could lock myself in the bathroom for a long soak in the tub without interruption.
I tried not to look at my body as I sunk into the water, but it could not be avoided. I was just one big bruise now. I could not find a bit of my torso that wasn't purple, black, blue, or yellow. There were many different staged to the bruises that gave it an almost kaleidoscope pattern. It was only made worse by the ridges in my skin where there should have been ribs, but the bones were all at the wrong angle and raised where they shouldn't be. I couldn't help but cry about that, but it only made it hurt worse.
When the water had gone cold I pulled my drained body out of the tub and gingerly dressed in my nightgown. I turned out the light before leaving the bathroom and then I tiptoed over to my bed. With great effort I slumped down onto my bed and curled into a fetal position. I had to use my wand to close the curtains and stick them shut. I even used it to raise my blanket up and over my body. The thought of moving to do it myself was unbearable at the moment. Just the small movements for spell casting were too much. I was so desperate in the moment that I tucked my wand beneath my pillow that I even considered calling out to Hermione for help consequences be damned. But I didn't because I knew it would be worse than what I was feeling now.
On the day of the match I considered going to the library once more, but there was still a bad taste in my mouth after my encounter with Malfoy. So I decided to go out and watch Harry play. I bundled up in a coat both for warmth and for added protection for my broken body. I was grateful for it when Cedric wrapped his arm around me and I had to fight to keep my mouth smiling when he inadvertently caused me such pain.
The game itself was a nail biter, but not because it was close. Our team outstripped the Slytherin team, but Harry was having the roughest game I had ever seen him play. I actually forgot my own problems for a moment to focus on my fear for him. I wasn't sure he was going to survive the match at this rate.
One of the bludgers had clearly been tampered with, and it was honed in on him. His flying was getting erratic as he tried to avoid being hit, and I was on the edge of my seat watching him. By the end of the game I was standing with my hands in my hair ready to scream. The bludger had already snapped his arm, and it still wasn't letting up.
He landed with the snitch, ending the game, but the bludger kept going after him. George flew out of nowhere to take a swing and save Harry. It worked, he knocked it clear of the target, but George didn't look where he was swinging, and the bludger came flying at me faster than I could react. Cedric grabbed my sides to pull me away, already causing more pain than he could realize, but he was not quick enough. I only had time to gasp before it crashed into my stomach.
For a second there was nothing, not even air, but the next second it felt as if my world erupted. I saw red as violent pain, worse than anything I had felt before tore through my abdomen. It felt as if my temperature had spike through the roof and the possibility of vomiting was very real. I cried out as I slumped over, but I felt Cedric catch me. I tried to listen to what he was saying in my ear, but all I could hear was the sound of my heart thumping in my ears.
Everything felt crazy around me. The crowd was jostling about, it seemed that some were going down to Harry and some were rushing over toward us. It didn't really matter to me; all that mattered was that Cedric was trying to pick me up. He swept me up in his arms and took off running. I felt every step he took like a hot poker in my spine, but I bit the inside of my cheek to try and stop the sobs from breaking free. I could tell by the pained look on his face that I hadn't been successful even if I couldn't hear myself very well.
I knew he made it to the hospital wing when I heard Madam Pomfrey's voice. I forced my eyes open, and I saw her rushing toward us. She motioned for Cedric to put me onto the nearest bed, and she bustled over to stand near me. She was already conjuring a curtain around the bed as she questioned him.
"What happened?" she asked in a somewhat strained voice.
"She got hit in the stomach with a rogue bludger," he said, when it was clear I wasn't going to be able to speak on my own. "It must have hit her pretty hard."
"Oh Merlin," she sighed before getting right down to business. "Alright Mr. Diggory, head out on your way, I need to take care of this."
He gave me one last worried look before he stepped out of the way of the curtain she was pulling into place around the bed. I could still see his shadow on the other side though, so I knew he hadn't really listened to her. No matter what might come now, I was reassured by his presence nearby.
"Alright, Bianca, I am going to need to lift up your shirt and have a look," she said softly as she began unbuttoning my coat and delicately pulling it off.
"It hurts," I managed to ground out through clenched teeth. "Can't you just heal it like this?"
"I understand that it hurts," she answered with as little emotion as possible. "But I need to get a look at your injuries before I can heal them."
I knew my world was about to explode but I couldn't move even a finger to try to stop her. She quickly had me out of my jacket and then she lifted up my shirt. I heard her gasp and I forced my eyes shut waiting for the pain that would come when she asked me a question that I wasn't supposed to answer.
"Bianca your ribs are shattered," she said in a strangled voice. "This couldn't all have come from the bludger, nor could all of these bruises. What has happened to you?"
I couldn't even hear my own response over the shocked gasp I heard outside the curtain. It was clear that Cedric had heard what she said, and now he knew at least part of my secret. My mind became torn between worry about what he must be thinking, and worry about my own healthy. Honestly it was becoming more difficult to breathe by the second. I didn't have long to worry about it because Madam Pomfrey quickly set to work trying to heal me rather than waiting for an answer that I couldn't give.
I was panicking, but I tried to fight it off. I didn't want to make things worse by breathing to harshly, but I didn't know how to stop the irregular rattling gasps that were taking me over. In the end I found myself begging for Cedric to come back, and he did, though he seemed so far away. His eyes were focused on my extensive injuries rather than my face. I could feel it in my bones that he was going to leave me when this was all said and done, but I was far to grateful that he was seeing me through to the end to be upset with him for being shot of me. He was a gentleman to stay when I had lied to him for months on end. He still held my hand and whispered reassuring words, but I could see the questions in his eyes.
Madam Pomfrey was waving her wand over me and continuously murmuring in another language that almost sounded like a song. It was painful and I felt every tiny shift as my bones moved from their current positions to where they were supposed to be. In some cases they were rebreaking from how I had healed them, and I thought I heard her comment on this, but I was nearly delirious from the pain at that point so I couldn't be sure. Cedric reached out to wipe something from my mouth, his hand coming back red with blood, and I wondered just how much internal damage I had sustained before my body seemed to start giving up.
I felt shaking and dizzy and the room didn't really seem to be in focus anymore by the time she lowered her wand. There was one last quick jerking motion with it and then several bottles came rushing from somewhere in the ward to hover near her. I looked at her, aware of the fact that I could not sit up to take them, and saw that her eyes were bloodshot. Had she been crying? To my surprise she conjured a strange looking clear package with a tube coming out of it and started pouring the potions into that. My confusion was outweighed by my exhaustion and my ailing body, and though I wanted to find out what she was doing I gave in to the darkness that had been looming at the edge of my vision.
My body went blissfully numb as I drifted away from consciousness. I was vaguely aware of Cedric being shuffled away once more as Madam Pomfrey brought that mixed bag of potions over to me. The last thing I knew before my world disappeared was a slight prick of slight pain in the back of my hand and then the heavy weight that could only be felt from the combination of a pain potion and a sleeping potion. Not that I understood how I could be feeling such a thing.