Miracle
She didn't want to sleep; Meadow fought the sleep. But her eyes grew heavier. The world blurred and spun faster out of control until she was forced to shut her eyes down. Her whole body tingled. At least her ribs didn't hurt nearly as much. . .
Chapter 11: New Scars
It seemed like just a dream. The troll attack. Meadow's slow reactions seemed sluggish and uncalculated. She watched the troll grab her around the waist, pinning her arms down against her sides as it squeezed. Shane rushing over to her limp body, surrounded by mirror shards. Cupping her face and neck with his scarred hands, telling her it would be okay. That someone would be there soon. Ron mastering Wingardium leviosa and using the troll's own club to knock it out. Harry heroically jumping on its back and shoving his wand up its nose.
Meadow woke with a start, gasping and upright in a sitting position before she realized it. The hospital wing, large, arched windows around the whole room that was lined with hospital beds. The room was light with the morning sun. Tearing her eyes away from the intricate details of the window arches, she saw her father staring at her with intense eyes from his seated position on the edge of her bed.
"Dad," She let out softly, and threw her arm around his neck. This was the first she noticed she had a neck brace on. It was shocking, not being able to move as well as she was used to. And her left arm was bandaged up and strapped to her body.
The response was immediate, he wrapped his arms around her body gently and rushed. "I was worried about you," he said quietly and put a slight pressure on her before releasing.
"I'm sorry," Meadow responded, tears jumped to her eyes. "I didn't ever mean to be in a hospital like this." She hugged him tighter, emotional. Even as an eleven-year-old, Meadow didn't want to see her father suffer watching another family member lying in a hospital bed, unresponsive.
"It's not your fault," Dad replied, his voice tight. "It's not your fault," he repeated.
Tears followed out of Meadow's black orbs. Despite being humiliated from her father the last time she saw him; Meadow would always allow for her love to overrule any other emotion for her father. He had been through so much pain in his thirty-one years of life; more than half of that trauma Meadow didn't even know about. Did that agony excuse some of Severus Snape's behavior? Of course not, but as a kid, there are some things that aren't understood until later.
"Meadow," Dad said quietly and gave her another squeeze before grabbing her shoulders and looking into her eyes. "It is not your fault," he was stern and soft at the same time. "You cannot control everything that happens to you."
The words, as comforting as he wanted them to be. Meadow was unable to control her tears as they fell over her cheeks. She had a large fear of ending up just like her mom, trapped in unconsciousness, unknowing if she'd ever be fully functioning again. Severus also said: 'You cannot control everything that happens to you,' a reminder to himself as well as a life lesson that went right over Meadow's head.
However, Meadow nodded, regardless of being upset and mad at herself for passing out, she knew her father needed to hear that she understood. As she looked at her father, Meadow noticed he turned more serious now. "There is something, Flower, that you will need to realize. . . but, let me take this off you first," he unbuckled the neck brace and took it off.
Meadow felt freed from the miniature prison. Relief flooded her body, and she moved her neck from side to side, stretching it. "So, what is the damage? I assume Madam Pomfrey fixed me up, else I'd also be in St. Mungo's," she joked, trying to lighten the mood. Yet, she was also trying to prepare herself for the bad news.
Dad looked uncomfortable and seemed thankful when Madam Pomfrey came bustling over with a tray of potions and breakfast. "Oh, Miss Snape, you're awake. Good. I'm glad to see that."
"How long has it been?" Meadow asked, worry laced in her voice. Unsure if she even wanted to know the answer or not.
"Only two days, dear," Madam Pomfrey replied as she set down the tray of porridge, toast, and orange slices. "You're healing remarkable well. You woke faster than I anticipated."
"Is that supposed to be comforting?" Meadow asked as she looked at the healer, analyzing her.
The matron gave her a patronizing look, "I assume your father did not tell you then?" She looked between both Snapes. "I presumed as much," Madam Pomfrey sighed, shaking her head at her father. "Meadow, dear, your injuries were extensive. You took quite a beating from that troll. You had four broken ribs, a dislocated knee, internal bleeding—very minimal, but still evident. You received whiplash along with a concussion, and of course, the worse in physical appearance. . . your arm will be permanently disfigured; along with the many cuts and bruises you were given." She paused as she let the information sink in.
"What do you mean 'permanently disfigured'?" Meadow asked hesitantly, glancing down at the white cloth thickly wrapped around her arm, held up by the sling. "Does this mean I'll be permanently disabled?"
"No," Severus spoke up, his voice hoarse. "You will not be disabled. You will be able to return to life just fine, in time."
"What Professor Snape means to say, Dear," Madam Pomfrey said, her blue eyes flashing at the older Snape. "Your arm was shattered. There were mirror shards embedded throughout your whole arm. Miss Granger held your arm together on the way here. Unfortunately, despite my best attempts, your arm will be scarred from your wrist to your shoulder." The healer took a breath and turned to the potions she brought over along side the breakfast that Meadow hadn't touched.
Meadow trailed her eyes upon the vials and bottles of potions the matron set in front of her. The smallest vial was filled with a shimmery turquoise blue. One of the bottles was made out of a pale cream color with the exterior looking like a spine and ribs. A second small vial with a stopper on top of it, it too was blue in color, with a heavier brown liquid at the bottom. A deep green bottle with a small wax gold seal on it. A jar that held an ugly yellow liquid. And a capped purple bottle that swirled around the inside.
"Draught of Peace, Skele-Gro, Calming Draught, Deflating Draught, Wound-Cleaning Potion," Madam Pomfrey listed off. "You've already received a Blood-Replenishing Potion, given you lost a lot of blood on the way here."
"Why would I need the Draught of Peace?" Meadow questioned, slightly annoyed as she looked at a potion that relieved anxiety and agitation.
"It will calm you, your wounds are still tender," Madam Pomfrey replied, with a harsh yet soft voice. Stern and caring. That's what the woman was. "Now, take this," she picked up the shimmery turquoise blue small vial, The Draught of Peace, and opened it. A light silver vapor expelled from the bottle, the scent of a forest wafted through her nose.
"Do I really have to?"
"Unless you want to make Madam Pomfrey's job harder, then yes, you have to," Severus said to her sternly, giving her a hard look.
Meadow sighed, only to flinch at her sore ribs. "Fine," she held out her hand for the correct dosage from the healer. She took the small sip, and the effects of the potion began as soon as the liquid touched her tongue. Peace inched across her skin, the feeling of relaxation pulsed through her and her body tingled before becoming heavy.
"Deflating Draught," Madam Pomfrey said as she handed the next glass next, the deep green liquid.
"Why?"
"You're still swollen," her father said with a pointed look that also said 'Do not question every potion.'
Meadow could hardly care, she took a swig of it, as the two indicated she should—it was probably for her internal organs that had been bruised and irritated. There was two ways to use the Deflating Draught, one by drinking, and the second by applying it to the visible swollen area. Next up the calming draught, despite already feeling relaxed and content. Madam Pomfrey insisted on Meadow taking a large swig of the blue and brown potion.
Feeling as light as a feather, Meadow's face had a semi-permanent smile upon it. Madam Pomfrey pulled the curtains and ushered Severus out of the enclosed area. The healer helped Meadow out of bed, one foot over the edge of the bed and then the next. Meadow felt the cool stone touch her feet as Madam Pomfrey gently pulled her up off of the bed; she cast away Meadow's white hospital pants, leaving the girl in the shirt and her underwear. Madam Pomfrey looked over her legs quickly, washing them off, applying the Deflating Draught and Wound-Cleaning Potion where she felt necessary, before helping Meadow with her new pair of white pants. Though Meadow felt as high as a kite, she was grateful that the matron cast out her father from this vulnerable moment.
The witch unfastened the sling from Meadow, allowing for her bandaged arm to be free, which hung at her side. Meadow's old white shirt was cast off and Madam Pomfrey busied herself with washing the top half of the girl. Even though Meadow assumed Madam Pomfrey got her all washed off the night of the troll attack, she was still grateful for getting a bit cleaner. Her skin didn't feel so dirty from sweat, and it was the first washing she remembered. Madam Pomfrey was careful around the bruised ribs, sensitive stomach, and sore back. Thankfully, it didn't hurt nearly as bad as the night of the troll; she did see a few stars during a particularly painful area, but nothing nearly as bad as the tunnel vision and echoing of voices. The two started to struggle with the new shirt to fit over the huge amount of bandages that were wrapped around her left arm.
After some struggling, Madam Pomfrey stretched the material thin, making it wide and holey, the threads barely hanging onto each other. As soon as her arm made it through, the older witch pushed the material back together, where it looked like new and the shirt fit around her perfectly. Still feeling the effects of the Draught of Peace and Calming Draught, Meadow sat back upon the bed taking a drink of the Skele-Gro, which brutalized her taste buds and burned on the way down. Now came the moment of truth, what laid beyond the wrappings of her left arm. Meadow was distracted from the vile taste of the Skele-Gro as Madam Pomfrey undid the bandages.
A voice cleared his throat from behind the curtain. "Oh, yes, Severus. Please come in," Madam Pomfrey said distractedly as she carefully pulled away the bloody and yellow-oozed gauze.
Meadow smiled as her father came into the enclosed area and reached out her right hand for him to take. Severus was limping a bit as he did as he sat on the edge of her hospital bed turned towards her while able to keep an eye on her arm. "Hi, Dad," the girl said as she looked at her father's sharp face. She was feeling drugged from the two relaxing potions, and her eyes gave it away as they were smizing and dropping at the same time.
"Hello, Flower," He replied and met her gaze. Meadow normally got the sinking feeling that he would read her mind, but it didn't come this time. Either because of her altered state of mind, or that he didn't try to enter.
Meadow felt a tug from her skin and looked down. Madam Pomfrey was gently pulling away the no-longer white wrapping and there were a few places Meadow's skin had scabbed over intertwining the bandages with her skin. However, the sight that she took in was shocking. Her arm was covered in dark purple and blue bruises; there were a few ugly red road-rash looking bruises as well. It wasn't just the bruises along her arm, there were several, long, and deep atrocious cuts from wrist to shoulder. It wasn't just one line of a cut. There was one from the inside of her wrist to elbow. Another wrapped around her elbow. A third on the outside of her arm, running down her shoulder to an inch above her elbow. Additionally, there were many other minor cuts and scrapes, but those three deep cuts would be the ones that would scar over, permanently ending upon Meadow's body.
"Oh," she gasped. "Is this what you mean by disfigured?" Meadow was slightly relieved, she figured she'd have a bum arm for the rest of her life; of course, it was still upsetting that she had her arm torn up for the remainder of her days.
The adults grew silent, and Madam Pomfrey continued to clean up and then slather on the potions she needed to. Thankfully, with this round of potions and the healer's magic, the bruises were able to be sped up in the healing process, turning a gross yellow and brown. The smaller scratches were healed and all that were left was the silver-white scars that were barely noticeable. The large, open cuts were now closed, though pink and puffy, with the skin around it irritated. Meadow didn't feel so sore anymore, though, there still a fair bit of stiffness laying on her.
"Can you wrap it again?" Meadow asked, her voice high and soft. Her black eyes locked onto the blemished arm with distain.
"It doesn't need to be, Dear."
"Please," she pleaded with the witch.
Madam Pomfrey sighed and wrapped her up with a bandage. "Thank you," The girl cleared her throat as Madam Pomfrey gathered up the potions, letting Meadow and her father alone. Meadow grabbed a bit of the toast and ate it, looking at her father.
The Snapes watched the matron head into her office. "You can't keep your arm wrapped up all the time once you're released."
"I don't want to look at it," Meadow replied, shaking her head. "Everyone will make fun of me. It's one more thing that would give people to talk about me behind my back."
Severus fell silent and Meadow picked at her food. She pushed it away after a while, not caring to finish it. The two fell quiet, sitting together as Severus studied his daughter, who was looking out of the window. The fall sun felling so warm and so far away at the same time. Overtime, sleep took over Meadow's mind, having her fall into a deep sleep.
-.-.-.
The next day she woke up feeling refreshed and not as sore. Madam Pomfrey had breakfast floated over to her bed with the few potions she still needed. Which those potions ended up being only the Calming Draught and the Draught of Peace. Meadow was glad to see that she no longer needed the Deflating Draught, Skele-Gro, or Wound-Cleaning Potion.
"Madam Pomfrey, do I have to take these?" Meadow called to the healer.
The matron marched up to Meadow's bed and scrutinized her. "Take one of them. If any funny business happens at all, you'll be taking the other too." Those blue eyes pierced Meadow, signaling that the healer was very serious about that.
"Yes, Ma'am," Meadow said and picked up the Calming Draught, it was less potent than the Draught of Peace. She downed it in front of Madam Pomfrey, which pleased the older witch.
With that Meadow was left alone to eat her breakfast in peace. Until Harry, Shane, Hermione, and Ron pushed open the doors—immediately, Shane picked up his pace when he saw Meadow awake. She moved her tray off to the side and kicked her feet out from under the white hospital blankets.
Shane engulfed her in a hug without even allowing Meadow to fully stand up and trapping her arm against her body. "Doe, I'm so glad you're okay."
"Course I am," Meadow whispered into his shoulder. "Thanks to you four." He let go of her and she looked around at the other three Gryffindors standing at the end of the bed. Harry looking at her arm in the sling, Hermione eyeing her worriedly, and Ron looking disgruntled at something.
"Good to see you're alright," Harry said with a smile. Meadow moved forward and the two hugged quickly.
After Harry and Meadow released each other, Hermione wrapped her arms around her. "We were worried about you," Hermione said.
"Well," Meadow blushed, embarrassed, "I'm alright, still a bit sore, but considering I would probably be dead without you all." She looked at Ron, who was still standing awkwardly. "Whatever you did was bloody brilliant." She held her hand out to shake Ron's hand, which he took with pink ears over the compliment.
"It's nothing."
"You cast your first charm!" Hermione praised. "It was anything but nothing! You saved us all."
Meadow sat back down on the bed, still sore and tired easily. Shane quickly helped her into bed, lifting her legs and adjusting the pillows behind her. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," Meadow said with a smirk, adoring the attention Shane was giving her. It was like they were back in Muggle school, best friends again. "Just get tired easy right now."
"We can leave you to rest," Harry spoke up.
Meadow shook her head and smiled, "It's up to you. I don't mind the company." Shane shimmed next to Meadow in the bed, Hermione sat at the end of the bed, and Harry and Ron pulled up chairs to sit and chat. The four told Meadow about all the rumors going around at Hogwarts about the troll attack. The five laughed together for the first time.
There were very few things that could bring a diverse group of people together and be friends. A troll attack was one of them.
-.-.-
Later that day, Daphne and Theo came to visit. Daphne brought Meadow her homework from classes and her notes for Meadow to copy. The two Slytherin girls embraced after Daphne dropped the bags off on the end of the bed.
"It's so good to see you," Daphne gushed. "We've all been so worried about you," those words echoed Hermione's from this morning.
"I'm fine, really," Meadow replied with a smile. "A bit sore still, but I'm fine."
"What did happen?" Theo asked as he took a seat on the stool next to her bed.
Meadow shrugged, "I can't remember much. You probably know more than me—"
"Oh please, we all know that Granger didn't go after the troll and happen to find it in the girls' bathroom where it was rumored you were hiding out all day," Theo said harshly. "Granger may be a Gryffindor, but she is as cowardly as Sally-Anne."
Meadow looked at Theo, unamused at his comments. Sure, he was right about Sally-Anne, the Slytherin girl with large eyes and equally large, thick, square-rimmed glasses and huge buck teeth. Sally-Anne, was the one Slytherin who stood out more than Meadow did, nobody wanted to be her friend. She was odd, stunk of unwashed socks, and said very bizarre things. She also never stood up to anyone, in fact, whenever anyone was getting bullied, she would flake and hightail out of it. Sally-Anne would never talk in classes and tended to get paired up with Millicent Bullstrode, despite being relentlessly picked on by Millicent and Parkinson.
"Don't be so rude, Theo," Daphne said softly as she patted Meadow's good hand. "I'm sure it was traumatizing. Imagine a Mountain Troll going after you." She narrowed her blue eyes at Theo.
He rolled his eyes in response, "Tell us what happened."
"Oh bloody hell, alright," Meadow said, letting out a breath of frustration. "I was in the bathroom since Potions—I'm assuming you knew that?"
"Well, we knew you were upset about potions," Daphne said. "We just didn't know where to look for you. We only just heard about the bathroom during the feast. Word traveled from Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown that you and Granger were both in the bathroom looking miserable."
Meadow shrugged. "Rough day, anyway. So yeah, we were both in the bathroom before the troll. Sure Granger lied," she waved her good hand as if to say 'whatever'. "Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Shane all distracted it. Or tried to at least. It had grabbed me after going for Hermione. All I remember after that is seeing Harry jump up on it, Weasley wave his wand, and then I blacked out. Woke up unable to move with Shane holding my head and Hermione holding my arm with blood pooling out of my mouth."
"That's horrible," Daphne said, her lower lip trembled in a pout.
Theo's face had contorted into an uncomfortable and unpleasant expression. "So, it's true then. You had a lot of injuries."
"Madam Pomfrey listed a bunch off. Broken arm and ribs, concussion, whiplash, internal bleeding, cuts and bruises everywhere. . ." Meadow said, she wasn't sure if she liked Theo's tone of voice with her.
"Everyone had been saying you were dead," Daphne said quietly. "One of the Prefects saw you and the Gryffindors rush passed them with McGonagall and Snape. Said your eyes were closed, you were as pale as a ghost, blood falling from your mouth, and Granger and Lupin holding your arm together as Snape was preforming a few healing spells. Whoever it was said that the healing spells didn't look like they were working as more blood kept slipping passed your lips."
"I felt just as good as dead," Meadow said as she stretched her back and ribs. "Wonder who the Prefect was."
"Dunno," Theo said. "Rumors were already spreading like wildfire and then whoever saw you feed into them, and then it turned into 'Did you hear what so-an-so said?'"
The Hospital Wing doors opened again to reveal Draco and Terence, the two boys angerly whispering over something. Immediately, when they saw Meadow was sitting up and awake, they stopped and hurried over to her bed.
"Doe!" Draco exclaimed and rushed over to the other side of the bed, getting as close to her as he could.
"Hey," Meadow said meekly. She was starting to feel overwhelmed and tired.
"I'll see you later, Doe," Theo said and stood up for Terence to take his spot on the stool.
Meadow nodded, "Thanks for stopping by."
Theo left the Hospital Wing and Daphne watched him grimly. "I best go after him. I'll stop by later, okay?"
"I'll see you later," Meadow replied with a smile at her closest Slytherin girlfriend. The blonde got up and hurried after Theo.
"He's in a right bad mood," Terence said watching Daphne disappear after Theo. "Wonder what's got his wand in a knot."
"He's probably mad about the Gryffindors," Meadow muttered.
"Wouldn't put it passed him," Draco said, his steely gray eyes on the Hospital Wing doors.
Meadow's eyes snapped onto Draco's pale face. "How so?"
"He's got an issue with other houses. I'd be careful around him," Terence said. "He comes from a long line of dark wizards in his family. His parents were Death Eaters, in a close circle to You-Know-Who."
"Most of our parents were Death Eaters, Higgs," Draco hissed. "In case you forgot, your family isn't innocent either."
"Aye, my parents were no saints," Terence said. "My mother is in Azkaban the rest of her life for the crimes she did. It's not as though I'm alone in this, granted, I don't understand how your father talked his way out of Azkaban."
"He was under the Imperious Curse," Draco said scathingly.
"Alright, alright," Meadow said, putting her good hand up. "Enough talk about parents and family history. I don't even want to get into it."
"Tell us what happened!" Draco exclaimed excitedly.
Meadow did, except that she was in the bathroom alone, the troll came in and then Hermione, few moments later, Shane, Harry, and Ron came in and helped. And the rest was just the same as all the other rumors that were buzzing around.
Not long after Meadow was done telling the story, Madam Pomfrey came and ushered the boys out. Which Meadow was grateful about, as her eyes were becoming tired, she was yawning, and she still felt a bit overwhelmed with the amount of people who visited her today. Madam Pomfrey had her take a sip of the Draught of Peace, which put Meadow over the edge and she fell into a sleep.
-.-.-
The Friday after the attack, Meadow was released from the care of Madam Pomfrey, after being deemed well enough to attend classes. That, and Meadow had begged Madam Pomfrey to release her before the first Quidditch match of the season. Gryffindor verses Slytherin. On the condition that Meadow got through her classes with no trouble and she had to wear a sling still.
But, Quidditch had brought up an idea for Meadow to feel more comfortable about her giant scars on her arm. A lightweight Quidditch sleeve. She was glad to no longer be coped up in the hospital wing, but she still was upset about her arm, pleading with Madam Pomfrey to wrap it so the large, pink, puffy cuts were hidden away from people's staring eyes. Meadow also doubled the wrapping with long-sleeve shirts and jumpers since the air grew colder. The mountains around the castle became icy gray, the lake like chilled steel. The surrounding grounds had frost covering it every morning.
During Double Potions, Draco stepped up his game, he still let Meadow study the instructions and oversee the steps he was taking. During the brewing break the white blonde turned to her.
"Are you okay?" he asked, cautiously. Daphne's and Theo's eyes snapped up from their seats on the opposite side of the table. Apparently, during the week, her father had decided that Crabbe and Goyle benefited off Meadow and Draco too much. Snape moved the two and put them with Sally-Anne and Millicent, which then moved Daphne and Theo to their table, as they had been brewing passing grade potions.
"I'm fine," Meadow responded, looking into his gray eyes. "Really."
"You were attacked by a troll," Daphne spoke up, her voice harsh with worry. "It's not a secret on what happened to you."
"Madam Pomfrey gave me the okay to go to classes today," Meadow leveled. "She would have never let me out if she didn't want me out. Look, I know you are all worried about me, but really, I'm fine. I've got a sling, Draco's doing all the cutting and smashing. . . You three won't even let me carry around my backpack." This was true, for the most part, Daphne and Draco were being overprotective of Meadow, not allowing her to carry anything and being sure they took detailed notes the whole week she missed. Theo still kept his distance, but that was perfectly fine with Meadow; he was treating her like normal, which is what Meadow wanted.
They were brewing the Forgetfulness Potion yet again. As practice makes perfect. It was fine, her father had been around to their table, briefly telling them that their Valerian sprigs were too small. "Well someone has to watch out for you," Draco muttered quietly to her.
She gave him a pointed look, "What does that mean?"
"What were you doing with the Gryffindors again?" he lashed out at her.
Meadow's face became unimpressed. "I wasn't with them. I had been in that bathroom all afternoon. I see that no one else came to look for me."
"We tried," Theo interjected, speaking up about the issue for the first time since their conversation the first day they had during the hospital wing visit.
Meadow look into Daphne's ice blue eyes, searching for the truth. "We did try," Daphne reassured her. "But Sage caught us trying to sneak away."
"Only because Parkinson told on us," Draco added, a disgusted look upon his face.
"So, Parkinson told Sage that you three were trying to go find me?" Meadow mused, a smirk across her face. It was slightly funny, the amount of jealously Pansy Parkinson held against Meadow.
"Something like that," Daphne said. "So much for 'Us Slytherins stick together.'"
Meadow shrugged, feeling better that her Slytherin friends did try to warn her about the troll, even if they didn't succeed.
After class, Meadow went up to her father's desk.
"The potion was much better this time, Miss Snape," he said roughly as she approached.
"Good to know my involvement in Draco's potion wasn't necessary," she snapped back at her father. "Not why I came up at all. I actually had an idea for my arm."
"It'll heal up and soon become unnoticeable, Meadow," Severus sighed as he watched the last student disappear from the classroom.
"Except right now, it's very noticeable," she replied. "I don't want people to see it and look at me differently."
"Then what do you want to do about it? You'll only be in that sling for another day or two before Madam Pomfrey fully releases you," he was bored or uninterested. Granted, it wasn't that long ago they had this talk in the hospital wing.
"A Quidditch sleeve. Like one the chasers sometimes wear when they overuse their elbows, the kind that goes from shoulder to wrist," Meadow replied matter-of-factly.
"You don't need one," her father pointed out.
"I don't need one for durability, just one so I can wear it like a long-sleeve shirt without wearing the long sleeves," she argued. "A simple sleeve, just the material where it's skintight but not beneficial in anyway apart from to cover up my arm."
"I'll think about it," his voice was hard and low, clearly over this conversation.
Meadow took it as it was time for her to leave, so she turned and gathered her things up and walked out of the classroom. Sighing she headed towards the Slytherin Common Room to rejoin Daphne and Theo.
-.-.-
Later that day, Meadow found herself catching up with Harry, Hermione, and Shane in the courtyard. Although, she was grateful for Ron Weasley during his part in the troll attack, Meadow was glad he wasn't there around the jar of blue fire Hermione had conjured up. The four had their backs to the fire, warming up and catching up. They moved closer together, assuming that the bright blue fire was forbidden, to block it from view.
Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eye and he limped over to them. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.
"What's that you've got there, Potter?" Meadow's father sneered.
It was Quidditch Through the Ages. Harry showed him the book. Snape snapped the book out of Harry's hand.
"Library books are not to be taken outside the school. Five points from Gryffindor," Severus said sharply and limped away.
"He's just made up that rule," Harry muttered as they watched Meadow's father make his way slowly into the castle. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"
"Dunno," Shane said softly and bitterly. "Whatever it is, no offense, Doe, but I hope it's really hurting him."
"Given what he just did, I don't take offense," Meadow replied before turning towards the bright blue fire. Her hands and cheeks were getting cold. "Besides, whatever it was, we know for sure it wasn't the troll."
"What else could have been though?"
The four glanced anxiously around at each other, they knew exactly what could have done the limp to Severus. Meadow was later confirmed that the three-headed-dog was the culprit. She agreed to ask for Harry's book back. As Snape was more likely to give the book back to her than Harry.
She knocked on the door to the staffroom. No answer. She knocked again. Still no answer, figuring that no one would be in the staffroom, she pushed the door slightly ajar and peered inside—a horrible scene met her eyes.
Her father and Filch were inside, alone. Dad holding his black robes above his knees, one of his leg was bloody and mangled. Filch, handing Dad bandages and thick, salve potions.
"Blasted thing," Dad scorned, "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"
Meadow knew she walked into something she shouldn't have, trying to shut the door quickly and quietly—
"MEADOW!"
Dad quickly dropped his robes to hide his leg, and his face was twisted in fury.
"I was just wondering if I could get Harry's book back," she said quietly, eyes on the floor in front of her face. "You should use Skele-Gro on that, and a Deflating Draught. It's not like you couldn't brew them yourself."
"Watch your tone, Meadow," her father said harshly.
She shrugged. "Can I have the book back or not—"
The lime green cover came flying at her, she ducked, stumbling over her feet. Meadow fell, losing her balance since her left arm was still stuck to her side with the sling. A shooting pain ruptured up her arm from falling on her elbow. Surprise and pain ripped across her face as she looked up from the floor to her father's angry face. Tears appeared in her eyes and immediately Severus's face softened.
"Flower," he said delicately. "Are you okay?"
Meadow's jaw unhinged and she shook her head. Her eyes wide as they met her father's black orbs. She closed her mouth and went to open it again to say something. Anything. But her jaw snapped shut. Instead, she scrambled up to her feet awkwardly, clutching her arm, she turned on her heel and sprinted away, not even stopping to pick up the book next to her.
"Meadow! Meadow Lilium!" Her father voice called after her.
It didn't matter, the damage was done. Meadow saw everything she needed to. Her father was trying to get passed the three-headed dog, to get to whatever was being guarded below. How was she to trust her father? All of those Sunday tea meetings, and he never once mentioned trying to find a way to get passed that dog? Why? Why did he want the package from Hagrid? Or well, the possibility of the package that Hagrid brought from Gringotts. What was even in the package?
Before she knew it, she was back upstairs on the seventh floor. Meadow found herself by a large, stone arch that sat in the near distance of a large woman in a pink silk dress, rosy cheeks and black hair. She looked like a kind and stern woman, passionate about food and drinks, and also serious about protection. Just then the portrait opened up, swinging in to reveal Harry.
His face lit up when he saw Meadow, and then immediately turned into confusion. "Doe? What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry," she blubbered out, "I'm sorry—"
"You didn't get the book?" Harry asked, confused. "It's fine. I'm sure he wouldn't have given it back to me either."
Meadow shook her head, tears started streaming out of her black orbs. The red blood-shot whites made her irises stand out more than normal. "I'm so sorry I didn't believe you before. . . about my—about Snape. You were right. He—he tried to get passed the three-headed-dog. That's why he's limping!"
She slid against the stone and slid to the ground, trying to choke back her sobs, she started to hiccup. Harry looked around wildly. "Doe, it's okay—you just were trying to stick up for your dad. You didn't know—it's okay."
Meadow shook her head. "It's not—I believed he wasn't bad. But I knew… I knew there was something wrong. He's been so mean to—to everyone here! Why—Why wouldn't he try and do something else dark and go behind Professor Dumbledore's back?" The book being thrown at her replayed in her mind. Falling, watching the ceiling fly into her eyesight as her butt and arm connected with the solid floor. The huge shot of electric pain racing up her arm, sending a numb feeling up her spinal cord.
"It'll be okay—we don't even know for sure that Snape's behind it! He just seems like the type. . ." Harry said, patting her good shoulder. "Can I do anything for you?"
Meadow shook her head, "It doesn't matter. It never mattered. Nothing matters." She buried her face in her hands. Not noticing that Harry was looking around bewildered before dashing away into the Gryffindor Common Room.
Meadow wiped her eyes and nose, clearing away the liquid on her rosy cheeks. Unbeknownst to her, that certain redhead sat himself by her. "Rough day again?"
"George!" Meadow gasped. "I didn't even notice you."
"It's Fred," he said seriously. "Honestly, woman, how can we be friends if you keep getting my name wrong?"
Meadow's eyes became wide, horrified that maybe all along she had been calling him the wrong twin's name all along. "I'm only joking, I am George."
She let out her breath and clapped a hand over her chest, "You really got me this time."
"I could tell," George cracked a smile.
Silence fell between them. The fat lady portrait opened up again to show Harry, Shane, and Hermione pushing through. Meadow locked eyes with Hermione and very slightly shook her head. The girl grabbed the two boys' arms and whispered something to them. They halted in their tracks, watching her.
"We should really stop meeting like this," Meadow whispered as she wiped off her eye again.
"Aye, but then we wouldn't talk," George said. "Don't you want a Knight in the night?"
Meadow shrugged, "Does that always work?"
"Honestly, I don't know why I said that," George replied. "It just kind of came out."
Meadow snorted, before giggling. "Maybe we could talk about your day instead?"
"Oh," George exclaimed. "Well, you know. Plotting and planning tricks. Busy, busy, busy."
She laughed slightly, "What about classes?"
"Classes as normal," George shrugged. "It's a bit hard to pay attention to them sometimes. The only things I like to pay attention to are those that would help me and Fred for making pranks."
"So, you'd have an interest in Transfiguration and Potions?" Meadow asked curiously. The Weasley twins certainly did have a prankster reputation at Hogwarts. Everyone at Hogwarts knew the twins, they were overall good and kind boys. But they also had their mischievous status as well; fair friends with Peeves the Poltergeist.
George shrugged again, "Transfiguration is okay. Not the biggest fan of Potions, but it'll be helpful later with certain things, like creating a fake nosebleed or boils. . . or swelling tongues. Charms is something more interesting to me."
"Not something I would have pegged you for," Meadow said lightly, trying to tease him. She looked up again and saw that Harry, Hermione, and Shane were no longer standing outside the portrait of the Fat Lady.
He cracked a smile, "Glad to be a surprise."
Meadow let out a breathy laugh, "You always are. I never know if I should talk to you or not."
"Dunno why. I'm not too scary, am I?" George replied with ease.
"Not at all," she said and wiped her face with the sleeves of her robes. The left one slipped up, exposing half of the ugly, puffy cut that started to scab and scar over. George noticed. Meadow saw that George noticed. Quickly she shoved her sleeve back down and held the material over her wrist with her right hand.
"Is that from—"
"It's nothing," Meadow interrupted. "Still healing from the troll attack." She got up and pulled the sling under her arm so it was back in the 'proper' position that Madam Pomfrey wanted. "I'm sure it'll be gone by next month."
George looked at her the way Meadow hated to be looked at, with pity. Before he could say anything, Meadow locked eyes with his blue ones, mustered some strength, courage, and sternness, "I'm fine. I best be off. Good luck tomorrow."
She walked away, still sniffling, leaving the older boy sitting on the floor baffled. Meadow's head spun as she walked down all those steps towards the dungeons. She didn't really know why the troll scar bothered her so much. Was it the way it looked? The embarrassment from being the only one caught and hurt by the troll? Either way, Meadow did know that she hated that scar with a burning passion.
-.-.-.
