Chapter 28: Coming to Terms
Sirius stopped by the hospital wing after his last class on Wednesday to see if his girlfriend had woken up yet. He found Madam McKenna and Leanne have a whispered conversation near the door, and they both looked up when he walked in.
"Ah, Mr Black," Madam McKenna said, smiling slightly. "Good to see you."
Sirius was a little uncomfortable. "Yeah…you too?"
Leanne smiled. "Khyana's awake. You can go see her in a minute. But first, we'd like to ask you a favour."
Sirius looked from one woman to the other, confused. "Okay…?"
Madam McKenna looked at Leanne, and then back at Sirius. "We'd like you to tell Khyana about the Mora Menda."
Sirius gaped at the women. "You've got to be kidding."
Leanne hastened to explain. "We want her to understand that just because she has this illness, it doesn't mean people are going to stop loving her."
Sirius sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Alright, whatever."
"Great. Thanks, Sirius," Leanne said, flashing him a big smile.
"Whatever," Sirius said. "Can I see her now?"
"Sure."
Sirius made his way further into the hospital wing and saw Khyana, sitting up in her bed reading a book. He watched her for a moment, still trying to convince himself that she was sick. She didn't look sick…
She noticed him, and smiled widely.
"Hey!"
"Hey, baby. How are you feeling?"
"I'm great!" she replied. "I'll be out of here in a few hours, and we can just forget about this whole thing. You guys won the match, didn't you?"
"Yeah, we did," Sirius replied, ignoring the comment about her being okay. "Not by much though. Your team did really well."
"Oh well. I'm happy for you guys. Really."
"Thanks."
Khyana grinned at him, and he tried to smile back at her, but all he could think about was how sick she was. Her smile faded slightly.
"You're quiet. What's up?"
Sirius sighed. "I'm just thinking."
"About what?"
"The best way to say this."
"Say what?"
"What I have to say."
"Just be blunt, Sirius."
"Okay." He took a deep breath. "Have you ever heard of Mora Menda?"
"Yeah, sure. Alice's sister did her thesis on it for school. My great-grandmother had it, too, I think…she died of it."
"That explains a lot," Sirius muttered.
"Huh?"
"Nothing, never mind. So you know about it? About what it does and stuff?"
"Yeah."
"Good, then I don't have to explain it all to you."
Khyana raised an eyebrow. "Why are you asking me all this? Explain what?"
Sirius took another deep breath. "You wanted me to be blunt, Khyana, so this is it, as bluntly as I can put it. You're sick."
Khyana smiled at him. "Just because I fell off my broom does not mean I'm sick, Sirius. I'm fine, I've just been really tired lately. Like I said, I'll be out of here in a few hours, and this will all be a thing of the past."
Sirius was starting to get annoyed. "No. Khyana, listen to me. You're sick. You have Mora Menda. That's why you fell off your broom on Saturday."
Khyana's smile disappeared. "That's not funny, Sirius. I told you, I fell off my broom because I was exhausted, I haven't been sleeping well at all lately."
Sirius looked frustrated. "I'm not trying to be funny, Khyana! You're really sick!"
Leanne appeared around the curtain, sensing that this conversation was not going well.
"Hey, Yana."
"Hey Leanne. What are you doing here?"
Leanne shot Sirius a quick glance, and he gave her a relieved look.
"I'm here as a professional, Yana."
"Oh that's cool," Khyana said, not quite understanding. "Who's sick?"
Sirius pushed back his chair, his face red, and stormed out of the room. Khyana and Leanne watched him go. Khyana had a confused look on her face, and Leanne's was more a look of pity.
"What's with him?"
"You'll have to excuse him. He was even worse than you with the denial thing when he first found out, he's still processing everything."
"Everything what?" Khyana exclaimed, getting annoyed. "Will someone please explain what's going on here?"
Leanne sighed. "You really do have Mora Menda, Khyana, that's why I was called in. It's one of my specialties, I guess. Madam McKenna suspected that that's what you had, and she called me in to do some final tests. I'm sorry, Khyana, but you're very sick."
Khyana gaped at the woman, tears forming in her eyes. "What?"
Sirius reappeared around the curtain again, looking surly. "Madam McKenna wouldn't let me leave."
"Is it true, Sirius?" Khyana whispered, pleading with her eyes. "Am I really as sick as all that?"
Sirius nodded, his heart softening at the tears in her eyes. "Yeah. You're really sick, Yana."
Khyana, being Malfoy born and raised, swallowed her tears and refused to let them show, but Sirius knew she was upset.
"You're not too bad along," Leanne said, trying to comfort her. "There is medication we can give you to keep you at this stage, to keep the disease from getting more advanced. You'll need to take the medicine, and then you'll be fine."
"Then why does everyone keep saying I'm so sick?" she demanded, and Sirius could hear the tears in her voice. He grabbed her hand.
Leanne sighed. "Because you are sick. We're going to have to do some tests and you're going to have to take this medicine probably for the rest of your life."
"Will I be able to have children?" Khyana asked, her voice very quiet.
"Yes, of course!" Leanne replied, nodding vigorously. "It will not affect your children."
"But the disease is hereditary…"
"And it's unlikely that any of your children or their children will get it. Your great-grandchildren may get it, but it may never show up again. It's a very unpredictable gene."
Khyana shot Sirius a helpless look, and he looked at Leanne.
"Can you two go?" Khyana asked very quietly. "I just want to be alone."
Leanne nodded, and she grabbed Sirius' arm and pulled away from Khyana's bed. "You've done all you can for her, Sirius. Now you just need to leave her be."
Before Sirius left the hospital wing, he looked back at the curtain surrounding his girlfriend's bed and saw her silhouette. She was doubled over on the bed, and he could hear her sobbing.
Khyana finally went to sleep, and when she woke up, she had convinced herself that everything that had happened was a dream. She didn't really have Mora Menda, and she was going to be fine.
To prove this to herself, she grabbed her wand off the bedside table, pointed it at the water glass and said, "Auguamenti."
The water glass immediately filled up, and she felt none of the exhaustion she had felt on the Quidditch pitch. She really was fine.
"Ah, good, you're awake," a voice said from beside the curtain. "How are you feeling?"
Khyana reached for her glasses on the bedside table, found them and put them on. She smiled at Professor Dumbledore.
"Hello, sir. I'm feeling much better, thanks. When am I allowed to leave?"
Dumbledore frowned, looking confused, and came to sit in the chair beside her bed. "Didn't they tell you you're sick, Khyana?"
Khyana scowled. So much for her illusion. "I'll take that as a "not for a long time"."
Dumbledore sighed. "Leanne has some final tests to do, and Madam McKenna is making up the potion for you right now. Once they both feel you're ready, you can leave."
Khyana flopped onto her stomach and turned her head so she was facing away from the professor.
"Khyana, we have to talk."
"What?" Khyana asked, her voice muffled by her pillow.
"Khyana, this disease is very serious. I'm sorry to be the one to have to tell you this, but you know all the properties of the disease. You won't be able to do any advanced magic without getting extremely tired. I'm sorry, Khyana, but you're not going to be able to be an Auror."
This announcement left Khyana winded. Not be an Auror? No, that wasn't possible. She'd wanted to be an auror her whole school career. Dumbledore must be playing some kind of sick joke. She decided to confront him on it.
"Sir, I know from Leanne's research that this disease usually shows up around age 10 or 11. So how come it's just showing up in me now?"
Thankful that the professor couldn't see her, Khyana smirked. It was true, what she'd said, and she wanted to see how the professor would get out of this one. This question alone might be enough to prove her point.
She heard the professor sigh. "It's a very unpredictable gene, Khyana. It usually shows up around age 10, but not always. In some people, it can show up as late as age 30. And from what I understand from Miss Song, I believe it was your lack of sleep that triggered the attack on Saturday."
Khyana scowled at the wall. Well, she had another question. "Sir, I just filled that water glass on the bedside table, and it worked fine. I'm not even a little bit tired from it."
She couldn't see Dumbledore, but she could still hear him. He picked up the water glass and took a sip. He immediately sprayed water all over her bed.
"Hey!"
"My apologies, Khyana, but taste this water."
Khyana rolled onto her other side and faced the professor. Then she tasted the water in the glass and immediately spit it back into the cup.
"Yuck!"
"Yes, yuck is right," Dumbledore agreed. "You see, Khyana? Even though you didn't get tired performing this spell, it didn't turn out correctly."
Khyana could feel the tears forming in her eyes again.
"This can't be happening," she muttered angrily. Dumbledore didn't say anything. "Why me, Professor?"
Dumbledore sighed. "I don't know, Khyana. I just know we need to accept the lot we're given and run with it. No one's life is going to be perfect. Be thankful they have medication you can take for it."
Khyana sighed. "Can you just leave me alone, Professor?"
"Certainly," he replied, standing to leave. "Your friends are worried about you, Khyana. They want to see you."
Khyana sighed and turned her back to the professor. "Tell them to come back tomorrow."
A/N: Well...that's that. Poor Yana...But don't you worry, I've got big plans for this girl. Hehe. The next chapter will be a while, prolly, because I'm going away for the weekend tonight...again. I hate work. That was random, but I really do. Especially annoying managers. Ugh. Anyway, I'll shut up now and go work on chapter 29. Maybe I'll get it up before I go tonight, since no one's on msn...OH! But I'm reading this book, called "The Black Donnellys"...it's good so far, it's about more mass murderers...yeah. Well, that's what you get when your writer is going to be a criminal lawyer...lots of criminal stories. So yeah, now I really will shut up.
