Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction created solely to satisfy my imagination. Harry Potter and anything/everything related to the novels belongs to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing in this fanfic that might be recognizable as belonging to the canon of HP.

Chapter 36: Letters in the Hospital

Worry not Birdie, Sirius' letter when on to say after a messy array of sentences filled with crude words that had been crossed out. We'll get our revenge soon enough. I'll kill the sodding bastard myself if Evans doesn't get to him first, of course. She's been looking for him. Her temper's been over the roof since she found out you were taken to the hospital and that tosser hiding in his snake hole doesn't make it any better. Prongs has gotten hexed seven times already. Doesn't know when to shut it. But that's nothing new.

Tell me when you'll be released. I have a bet with Moony you see; on how many more times James will get attacked by Evans before you get back. Help me win, Faraday! I'll split it with you.

Love, Sirius Black

P.S. I caught Peter crying in the tub the other night. Better if you healed faster so he doesn't lose what's left of his masculinity.

"Git," I muttered with a smile as I folded Sirius' letter.

My room in St. Mungo's was the same as always. The white walls and bedcovers shone brightly with the warm sun coming from a little window to the side. It was a pleasant day on the other side of the window, where a busy muggle street stretched. I had been looking at the passing people all morning before lunch and the mail had arrived.

Muggle fashion didn't hold much interest to me anymore when compared to letters from my friends.

I had gotten two that particular day, and I had jumped in my hospital bed just to read them in complete comfort. My food tray, levitating in front of me with a stubborn charm I would be able to break if only I had my wand, sat by my feet, as I used one foot to push it down. The tray would not stop until I ate everything on it, but my mail was more likely to satisfy me than the obligated food. It rattled under my foot softly, though I wasn't worried about spilling. It had a charm for that too.

An easy smile tugged at my cheeks when I read the names of the senders.

I wasn't surprised that one of the letters was from Lily. When I woke up for the first time since my fight with Mulciber, one had already been waiting for me patiently on the nightstand. Lily, in her amazing audacity, had given the letter to Dumbledore himself to deliver to me, when three days went on and I still hadn't opened my eyes. She had been startled by my sudden disappearance and the subsequent lack of information on me on those first few days. So she took matters into her own hands and imposed herself on the Headmaster.

She was brilliant.

More letters followed hers, and though a score were official Ministry reports on my situation, I also got mail from the Marauders. I was surprised. I had only been in the Hospital for four days and the boys were sweet enough to post me when they could have just asked Lily or something. I held Sirius' letter it in my hand a while longer, staring absent-mindedly at the way the flourish of his handwriting had made my name. It seemed particularly pretty, especially with the messy scrawl of his I was used to reading on his school assignments. Maybe he had no time for impeccable calligraphy in his school work, but clearly, he did in his letters. With a sigh, I placed it on the nightstand, where I had my read mail piled.

There was sound on the other side of my door. I waited for the shadows that I could see under it to come inside. Visitors had been common enough during my few conscious days in St. Mungo's. I didn't particularly enjoy the idea of entertaining a Healer or a Ministry official like McPhail, but I would if there was no other choice. When the door didn't open, I looked back to more interesting things. On my lap sat Lily's recent letter and I unfolded it as fast as I could without damaging it.

Dear Faraday,

How are you? I hope that you're better than when you wrote your last letter. I'm sure your new hate for bandages is well placed, but the Healers wrapped you in them for a reason. Don't be stubborn and let them do their job. But of course, you are welcomed to vent with me.

I am in serious need of venting. Mary and Dorcas are all but had it with me. I know we rarely ever talked about Mulciber, and I have noticed that he is a sore subject for you, but I am angry. I can't help it. I want to kill that git. I want to hex him into oblivion until he's begging for forgiveness on his knees. It has to be on his knees. Mary said I should try to control myself, but it's too much. You are in the hospital! You've been in the hospital for days and what has he gotten? The news of your duel was spread all over the school, but I haven't seen Mulciber. It's like he disappeared. And your housemates are eerily silent. Last night during dinner, no one was talking in the Slytherin table. There's obviously something going on there. Do you know? Would you be willing to tell me?

I wish I could go visit you, I really do, but Professor McGonagall said it was impossible. I'm sure you're tired of reading the same thing over and over again. I'm sorry. I can't keep it bottled up. Not even hexing Potter's pompous arse makes me feel better these days.

Your notes are coming along swimmingly. I even borrowed Dorcas' from Care for Magical Creatures. It's not a bother so stop telling me to stop. Writing your copy by hand instead of using magic has been a good revising method. If you still want to be stubborn about it, just think of it as the price of not studying with me the time you've been away.

Write to me as soon as you can with the date you'll be released. Black has been saying that he was going to ask you. If he finds out before I do, I'll get madder. Might even hex him next.

Maybe I'll wait until you get back for that. I think it might be a good welcome for you.

Lily.

I folded the parchment and released my untouched tray of food. It glided up from under my foot, levitating towards me as I put Lily's letter on top of Sirius' on the nightstand. All I wanted to do was answer the mail I had gotten, but if I left my meal uneaten much longer, a Healer would most likely appear.

Grabbing a spoonful of the almost bland pudding, I leaned back on the bed. I don't know which I preferred best, helping Sirius win us money or making Lily feel better. Sure, I didn't want her to hex Sirius, but it could have been the only way for me to keep her and to an extent the Marauders from troubling themselves with my matters.

Anything to keep them away from Mulciber for as long as possible.

It was irksome to say the least, that there had been no sight of him. If Sirius claimed he was hiding in Slytherin House then that meant that he, and by he I mean the lot of the Marauders, had gone looking for him. They already possessed a grudge against him after the fight they had along with Snape, and I couldn't see that calming down if anyone of them found out anything of what happened in detail. That Lily was not hiding that she was invested in the seeking of revenge made things worst. No doubt James had enjoyed seeing her fuming at someone else than him, no wonder he was getting hexed so many times.

I mulled over what to reply to the letters I was sent. In no way would I mention Lorcan Mulciber. Though Lily had asked in every single letter, I had no intention of telling her the truth. Not to her, not to the boys. How could I even begin to get over the embarrassment of having to speak of how my first love and boyfriend became my worst enemy? With what face could I tell anyone that angry banter resulted in desperate snogging? Or how that had escalated to one of the most horrendous acts of violence that I had ever taken part in?

Definitely, I would keep quiet for as long as possible, at least until Lily cornered me at wand-point.

As to when I was going to be let out of the Hospital, well I had no clue. I wished I could be let out on the afternoon, but that was completely impossible. My surprise visit to St. Mungo's was barely over a week old, and probably Head Healer Pyek, ever in charge of my health and all that, would want me to stay a bit longer. All my external wounds were already healed; the last of the annoying bandages that I'd been covered in were taken off that very morning. Surely that meant I could go back to school soon. There was nothing more I wanted. There was a week's worth of work that I wanted to sink my teeth into.

Figuring that my best option was striking a deal with Dumbledore and Pyek -something along the lines of visiting Madam Pomfrey every day for a score of days- I finished my pudding with two large spoonfuls.

The rest of the meal floated against me, patiently waiting to be eaten when a groan got caught up in my throat as I resisted the urge to let it free with great difficulty. The door of my room had been pushed open, announcing the arrival of company I had no desire to entertain. But even if my aversion to a visitor had shown in my face, Trainee Healer Alessia Green let herself inside like she owned the bloody place.

Her eyes went to the tray floating in front of me, her eyes narrowing for a second before she relaxed it to her previous expression. It was a face of blissful positivity, the kind I would give to Lily or Peter because they were my friends. Unlike Alessia and I. Though, I don't know, maybe she thought we were friends with all the time we had been forced to spend together during my hospital stays. Or she had been forced by Head Healer Pyek to get into my friendship group. Probably that. Regardless, I didn't consider her anything but a Healer and it would always remain that way. Not even when she settled on the end of my bed with a deck of Exploding Snaps and an assortment of sweets she probably got from the lunchroom.

Putting Lily and Sirius' letters and what I was to reply to them from my mind, I settled with Alessia. We played the game for some mindless minutes, the air filling with sound and smoke. I could have stayed silent like that for hours if needed, but the Healer had other ideas.

"What did the Minister say to you?"

"Why should I tell you?" I said pushing a card down and watching it pop in smoke on top one the Healer had played. The Minister for Magic had visited me early in the morning with Mr. McPhail, the Ministry official in charge of my case, to clear up some minor details of the duel at school. I had already given them a detailed narration of the events, for the first time not keeping as many secrets. Obviously, I made no mention of my previous romantic relationship with Mulciber, or that the reason he –a Prefect- had caught me out way after curfew was because I had been running all night with a pack of animagi and a werewolf. However, none of that mattered was that Alessia, for some reason I couldn't even begin to understand, thought that I would talk to her about something that didn't concern her. I found it rude and forward and looking up at her, a glare set, I could tell that she hadn't thought anything from asking.

"I just thought you might want to talk to someone." Her eyes were down to her hand of cards as she planned her next move. From her face, pretty and pleasant looking like all the rest of the Healers was more so the same as always. Pretty and pleasant under that strange white Healer hat she wore."You've been stuck in here for a week. I'm sure it must be hard after getting used to life in a dorm."

I didn't say that she was wrong. That would be talking to her truthfully and at that moment I didn't feel like it. If I did, Alessia would be extremely surprised at how wrong she was. Life in my Slytherin dorm was solitary and I was more used to it that I cared to admit. Of course, I would take my dorm before St. Mungo's any time of the day. There was nothing more that I wanted than going back to Hogwarts as soon as possible. Maybe, I had a chance with Alessia, to get her on my side. "I'll tell you everything Minchum said if you get Pyek to let me out tomorrow."

"There's no hurry. Your body needs abundant time to heal." She gathered the cards with a natural caring expression, eyes on words deflated every ounce of patience I had left toward her, and I had no more desire in playing anymore. I'm sure my frustration was evident, for Alessia kept looking at me, speaking again with a concerned furrow of her forehead. "Do you even know how beaten up you were?"

I shrugged.

Alessia took that as a challenge for some reason. Jumping off the bed, her green robes blazing slightly as she walked to the door to open it. With one leg out of my room and giving me her back, she grabbed something that had been hanging next to the door.

Coming back with a satisfied smile after kicking the door shut, Alessia set what I could clearly see as my medical clipboard on her lap when she took her unwelcomed spot at my bed. She skimmed through the papers with the expertise of a soon-to-be professional Healer and brought her eyes to me. I stared back, trying to be unimpressed by her, which I was, as I waited for her to deem the moment worthy to tell me things Head Healer Pyek had already told me.

She went on to read an impressive list of wounds, which somehow, the Healers of St. Mungo's were capable of healing in less than three days. My duel with Lorcan had earned me a dislocated arm, shattered right shoulder, and a snapped leg. I had three broken ribs that did no one the favour of puncturing my spleen and one lung, and a couple of dislocated disks that would have rendered me immobile if Pyek wasn't an expert at fixing them. There was also a fracture on my skull that resulted in a concussion that still required potions to calm the bugging pain. I had a large burn on my belly, from where I was hit with a lightning spell, and I had all sorts of both deep and shallow cuts over my body. Thanks to those I arrived at St. Mungo's with a desperate need for a blood replenishing potion.

I would have been impressed with my own resilience if the whole getting those wounds hadn't been so damn painful.

At least I couldn't remember the pain from when I landed in Diagon Alley, and by the time I woke up after that, my wounds had already healed. Not this time. When I woke up, I had been covered in bandages still. The stone steps of the stairs that led to Slytherin House did a horrid number on me, and I was lucky that I wouldn't keep any scars. I had not seen myself without bandages, but the soreness in my body, even still with all my wounds healed, was proof enough that I had been in a critical situation. Thankfully, the Healers had done their job well, and I was left to count the hours before I got to get as far away from them as possible. I grabbed a hand of cards that Alessia had put down for me. "What else does that say?"

"Basically, it has everything about you. It even mentions in detail your connection to your famous ancestors." At her words and face, both devoid of malicious intent or anything other than concern and care, my body stilled, freezing over. Sure, as my medical record, I'm sure the file had to contain all my information. My connection to my famous ancestors was a health matter that affected me constantly; it made sense to be there. But all I could think was of how Alessia had grabbed it from the outside of my room without a bother, and that bothered me. Most of my secrets were hanging off a wall on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's without a care in the world. I was probably overreacting, and that made me try to not glare anymore at the Healer in front of me. It wasn't her fault.

Annoyed, I put two cards down. They popped.

"I was supposed to start this time!" She said, more like whined really, as she put my clipboard aside to grab her hand of cards. "Don't cheat."

I did my best pureblood sneer before I succumbed to rolling my eyes. "Play already!"

We settled again unto mindless game.

"I see you got mail this time." Poor Alessia couldn't keep silent it seemed. Her eyes had dangled on my nightstand, and I knew it would only be a matter of seconds before she asked me about them. For this one time, I didn't mind as much as I would normally mind her snooping. Alessia had at least not asked me on her previous rounds or visits, not even to start a small conversation. "Your friends must miss you."

That I didn't mind did not mean I liked to be questioned. I took a deep breath, trying not to shake with exasperation, less she notice. "What's your point, Green?"

"Is it a friend or a boyfriend?" Alessia asked, her eyes shining with mischief. Her hat shifted forward with her, as she edged toward to me. I leaned back to my pillow, though she was nowhere near into invading my personal space. An answer to her sudden question popped into my head, but before I could even begin to open my mouth, the Trainee Healer jumped to her own conclusions. "It is a boy! I knew it. Tell me all about him."

Of course, she wanted me to talk about things that didn't exist and that most importantly didn't concern her in the slightest. I stared at her dumbfounded, trying to understand what about me brought her to think my letters were from a boyfriend. Sure, one that I got that very day had been from a boy, but that was just Sirius. Even if I was interested in him that way, I don't think he would go for a frumpy Slytherin. The rest of the Gryffindor boys had sent me letters too, so maybe Alessia had snooped around my mail and saw their names. James was a lost cause, he would never look my way while Lily existed, and I couldn't blame him. It would be weird if I fancied Remus enough to be in a relationship with him; to me -and sometimes I thought he got the inclination too- our connection through Morgana seemed too familiar. And Peter, well Peter had tried, but I rejected him. I knew no one else I could fancy, no one else approached me, and no one else mattered.

Because even if I did fancy anyone -went out of my way to try and pursuit him-, Lorcan Mulciber would loom over them and my heart in his vile way. Emptiness began to stretch from the core of my body to everywhere else, heavy and unforgiving as I sat there.

That I had a long way before I forgot Lorcan or that I might not be able to move away from him was heartbreaking.

"Come on!" Alessia's goodhearted playfulness brought me back from the darkest places of my mind, and for a slight moment, I actually wished I had something to tell her. Something nice and uplifting that shined with the promise of a pleasant future. But I had nothing of the sort, not in a romantic way, at least. Nothing that would satisfy Alessia Green. "I've told you all about my darling Julius. Now it's your turn."

"He's tall," I said resorting to starting a lie just to get her off my back. She had told me lots about her fiancé, and I had enjoyed every word she uttered. "Well-built and darkly handsome with long lustrous black hair."

"Really?" She ate the description up like it was Honeydukes' best chocolate fudge. Her expression, light, and believing was enough to make me chortle a bit. It came out of nowhere, I was surprised to feel it vibrating through me, but I somehow felt refreshed. And with that, my little white lie came crashing down.

"I don't have a boyfriend, Alessia," I told her with a smile, even though I made the mistake of thinking that having a boyfriend was what got me there in the first place. Two of my three visits to St. Mungo's after starting school had been because of Mulciber.

Alessia smiled back at me. "Tease."

It was past midnight and I hadn't been able to fall asleep. The least I had done in the hospital since I woke up from the coma was sleep. And that was completely understandable considering I had slept for three days straight after my duel in Hogwarts. Regardless, I barely slept, to begin with, burning most of my nighttimes away with school work, so I wasn't surprised that sleep eluded me in St. Mungo's. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that Pyek forbid anything related to my classes, to help me rest, but it only made me the opposite. My hand wanted nothing more but to feel crisp parchments, and to fill rolls of them with essays and assignments from top to bottom. I itched to get my hands on those notes Lily was making for me.

I had tons of energy and hours I wanted to burn with school work, as I normally did. Yet the ban that had been placed upon them left me with the longest days filled with a sluggish depression I kept telling the Healers would hinder my recovery.

So I tossed and turned.

I had just settled on a comfortable position when I heard a click. My eyes, not drowsy in the least, fluttered opened immediately. I could see shadows under the door, and I wondered if someone really intended to enter my room. It was the middle of the bloody night! And I wasn't scheduled at that hour for a Healer to check me over. Pyek had done so before she left St. Mungo's for the night.

Pushing myself up with an elbow, I watched the door open. I thought there was light outside in the hallway that led to my private room. I had seen shadows. But the light that entered was not blinding. It came from the tip of a wand, tricking my eyes from being able to focus on the visitor. A large figure loomed in the frame, imposing and not human in shape. My heart began to hammer slightly at the arrival. Healers did not make their night rounds like that so I had reason to start to worry. As I stared at the giant shape getting closer, the thought that maybe I would end up having to scream at some point would be unavoidable.A dash of relief flooded me as the shape separated into two humanoid looking figures, but that relief wouldn't last more than a second.

"Est-ce elle? Nolan?" Said the distinct voice of a woman.

A wave of nausea did flips in my insides, draining me of vital substances and energies. I had heard that voice before. Although I couldn't for the life of me place it on a face, I was more than certain that I knew who the woman was, and that she was someone I needed to get away from. Remembering that Nolan was my surname, my heart started to thrash inside of me. A little part of me had begun to hope that maybe the pair had the wrong room. No such luck.

Another wand rose with its tip lighted and the face of a man was lighted up. A shriek got stuck in my throat when I recognized him.

My hospital room suddenly got abysmally small, and shadows danced at the edges of my vision as I clutched at my bedcovers. I pushed back on the bed, jumping back into the headrest, trying to get as far away from Lorcan Mulciber.

I was an idiot to even begin to think that maybe I could have a normal life without him in the equation. He was a curse, pestilence incarnate and he carried the vilest of diseases. An incurable one. There was no safety or shelter, only fear of being caught and a hammering heart trying to break out of me. He glared at me as if I was the one that had committed wrong in walking away from him. Lorcan looked down from my face -letting me breathe- to look at a clipboard he held. That one act somewhat deflated everything that was coursing through me.

"Says here, Faraday Ambrosius." The man spoke and my heart managed to stop pounding inside of me long enough for me to have a cohesive thought ring through my mind. It wasn't Lorcan. Thank grandfather Merlin's socks, it wasn't Lorcan! I could breathe better now, as my eyes adjusted to the wand produced light. But only a little after I realized who the man and woman intruding on my hospital room in the middle of the night were, I began to sweat. Shit. Sod it all to hell. I didn't know what was worst, a visit from Lorcan or from his parents. "But she must be."

"You!" The woman said a familiar flavour of venom slipping from her mouth. "It was you who hurt my son."

The allegation hit me, but not as intently as the repulsion on Mrs. Mulciber's voice. "I did—"

"Lorcan is a sweet boy! He would never do such an act. Zut alors!" I'm not sure she had come to speak to me; a little voice in the back of my mind said that all she wanted was to scream at me. She had parchment crumbled up in one hand, and I watched it suffer in her fist as she waved it in my direction. That her wand was pointed at my face didn't make me feel any better, either. "To think, to believe that he got expelled from that ridicu-lous school because of you. His wand was almost snapped!"

I couldn't keep silent. The news hit me like stone, and I found myself fighting the remnant of a gasp in my throat."Expelled?"

"Vous avez un sacré toupet! I know girls like you.Mon pauvre bébé, will suffer your kind all his life. It is not his fault to have been born beautiful and smart and in a powerful family. It makes him irrésistible to paupers and whores like you."Her words broke with the thickness of her accent, but they still cut deeply. Especially when her eyes came into my focus and the light of her wand let me see the color of them. Lorcan had inherited all his looks from his father to the point that I had mistaken him, but his eyes, those green fires of hell were his mother's.

"Lorcan was expelled for Hogwarts?" Even after all that she had said to me, all that her son had done to me, I couldn't believe it.

"You will do as I tell you, girl." Mr. Mulciber said, taking charge of the situation. I had no clue as to how they had gotten in my room without anyone noticing yet, but I had the inclination that Lorcan's father was the mastermind behind it. Or the one paying. "Tomorrow you shall write to the Headmaster and explain that you made a mistake. You will tell Dumbledore that my son had no part in your fall. He is innocent and I will not allow for our name to be tarnished by some mudblood tart."

"I am not a mudblood." The insults coming from him didn't bother me as much as his wife's. I was used to Lorcan's face vomiting pestilences. What I did not enjoy, what made my hands ball on my lap and my glare become set was his set of orders. I would be damned before I did what he wanted. "And he attacked me!"

Mr. Mulciber's faced pinched in anger, his forehead forming wrinkles that once more reminded me that he was not his son. His wife stared at me surprised that I had the audacity of speaking that way to an adult, but it only made me straighten my back. I was ready to receive their hate. "Merlin, quelle horreur! She's an ill-mannered child. A mudblood assuredly, even blood traitors and half-bloods teach respect to their brood. Ne la laisse pas te parler comme ça!"

"Arianne," Mr. Mulciber said with an edge and the woman who had demanded of him huffed next to him. She didn't say another word. He turned back to me, shadows marking his face. "Nolan, I will give you one change, only one. You seem like a reasonable girl; you are a Slytherin, Merlin only knows why. Speak up and do as I say. Lorcan didn't do anything."

I had listened quietly to his words, unable to believe what was going on. It was the mention of my House and ancestor that brought my resilience to the roof. Oh yeah, Merlin fucking knew why I was in Slytherin.

"He did this to me! I'm here because of him." I clutched my sheets again but it wasn't because of fear. No, I had had it with those two. I was angry; I was bloody livid and I had enough with a stranger trying to tell me what to do. "Your precious Lorcan is a monster. Believe me, I know better than anyone. And what he got, getting expelled from Hogwarts is a poor punishment for what he did."

"Do not test me, girl." He said pointing his wand at my nose. "I will destroy every inch of you."

I believed in his threat; that man could bring me to ash in a heartbeat, physically, mentally and socially. Yet I didn't care. A part of me wanted to smile, to smirk in a way that only reminded me of Sirius Black, but I didn't. My face was too set in the challenge to move. "If your son is anything like you, then I am not afraid anymore. I'll meet your fire with fire if I have to."

We stared at each other for what seemed like hours, neither of us wanting to lose. I liked the thought that I was making Lily proud somehow, meeting the challenge head-on and not backing down. Seconds after I had that thought, I got the feeling that I won, for Mr. Mulciber nudged his wife to turn in direction to the door. She looked at him incredulously, her lips pursing to speak, but she thought better of it and remained silent.

"Watch your back, Faraday Nolan," He said as he turned to walk behind Mrs. Mulciber through the door.

My heart swelled as I watched them go. Before the light of their wands was put out, I was still able to see that Mr. Mulciber carried my medical clipboard. Outside the door, I heard it clatter on the floor.

I couldn't read Peter's letter properly.

Faraday,

Yesterday, James and Sirius used the last of our dungbombs. The plan was to hide them in Slytherin cauldrons at Potions, but it backfired. I don't think they intended for them to explode in our room, though. It did cheer me up. But it made Remus angry. He gets mental when he's angry.

A smile tugged at my cheeks, but it disappeared as soon as my mind was allowed to roam pass Peter's words.

It was inevitable for me, for my thoughts to circle back to Lorcan Mulciber. I wanted to say that I was glad. I was glad. Getting expelled, like I had told Mr. and Mrs. Mulciber was a poor punishment, but it was something drastic that was sure to hurt him and his family. I wanted Lorcan hurt for the things he did to me, regardless of how it had seemed to anyone else. There was no question in my mind that Lily, Sirius and James would agree with me and maybe even protest that they didn't get the chance to hex the seventh year Prefect. Well, Lorcan wasn't a Prefect anymore if his parents had spoken the truth. A sort of giddiness overcame me whenever that crossed my mind.

I put away Peter's letter on my nightstand. I would go back to Hogwarts and there would be no Mulciber. Counting out of the equation the retaliating from my housemates, Slytherin House could very well become a less stressful place to live. I could go about my school days without having to worry about an abusive ex living in my house and tormenting me every few days. Maybe, just maybe I could live in peace, if only from him.

But then I would forget myself, and sport qualities that Slytherins would find appalling considering all that happened. There was regret, shame, concern and a scorching sense of responsibility. Because of me, Lorcan Mulciber had lost his education.

March had barely started! There were still way more than two months of classes left. And Lorcan, expelled from school would never graduate from there. He would never get the payoff of the seven years he studied in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. All I could think of was of my months in the castle and the mountains of reading, studying and writing I had done for my classes to be in the position I was now. For all my hard work to come crashing down, even if I myself was responsible, was atrocious. I could wish a thousand horrible things to befall Mulciber, my one true enemy. I wanted Mulciber to pay, but not at the cost of his academic education. Sure he was rich and his family name could probably get him whatever job he desired without finishing school, but it was still somewhat horrible.

I felt bad. No matter what happened between us, all the evil he had done, and how inadequate of a punishment being expelled was for him, my gut bothered me for hours.

It still was throbbing after lunch, when Professor Dumbledore arrived. He announced his presence with a single knock, one that I knew to be his signature, and let himself in to sit by my side. Our positions were ones we had assumed many times before, he on the chair and me on the bed, and the familiarity of it all was a bit comforting.

Dumbledore came with wonderful news. Before knocking on my door, he had been conversing with Head Healer Pyek, arranging my release from St. Mungo's. They agreed on the following afternoon, so for me to not only return at night to school but also at the beginning of the Easter Holidays. I would have daily meetings with Madam Pomfrey for two hours, and the rest of the day I would be allowed to work on catching up on my missed classes and assignments. All I wanted was to be delighted, to ignore the old wizard and start preparing my letter to Lily with the news. However, I couldn't. Not when the memory of the previous night didn't even let me smile at the prospect of getting out of the hospital finally.

"Was Lorcan really expelled?" My words were calculated, though out of the blue. I had to ask.

The eyes behind the half-moon glasses narrowed, though he didn't immediately ask me how I had come by that information. "He was."

"Is there something I can do?" It pained me to push the words out, it was hard, but if I didn't my body wouldn't stop aching. As much as I decided to will myself about forgetting my feelings for Lorcan Mulciber, I couldn't help it. As much suffering as I wanted to give him, there was one line for me, and only one. Surely Dumbledore as a teacher wouldn't blame me for trying to defend the education of another, as stupid as it might seem. I pushed the words out, my teeth grinding, but I knew it was necessary for my well being. "I know he didn't mean for me to fall down the stairs. Maybe I can talk to someone."

"Your wounds claim otherwise. Do not try to fool me Faraday; I saw the wreckage the two of you left. I saw how the duel left you both." His voice seemed hard to me, harder than he had ever been to me, but considering the situation it was justified. As much as an experienced wizard as he was, I'm sure seeing me half dead at the bottom of some stairs wasn't pleasant in the least. "There's nothing you can do for young Mr. Mulciber. This was pushed by the Minister himself."

I grabbed my sheets, bringing them close as I looked down. The information made me feel worst. "All because of whom I'm descendant of?"

"He attacked you," Dumbledore stressed calmly. "More than once already, in school. It was his fault that you fell. He left you there. If Merlin and the other paintings hadn't yelled excessively for help, we wouldn't be talking right now."

The image of the painting of Merlin flashed in my mind as fresh as ever. Had he seen me coming down the stairs? Did he think I was dead and he cursed to see the end of a family line he hadn't even known still lived? "Is grandfather worried?"

"As much as a painting can be."

I accepted the Headmaster's words, though I decided to keep it at that.

"I would keep the matter of Mr. Mulciber from your mind." Dumbledore went on to say. "Professor Slughorn has it in good authority that he has been accepted to transfer to Beauxbatons. He'll graduate from there."

And just that was reason enough to keep Lorcan from my mind. I would do as the Headmaster said, if only for that matter. It was easier than before with that information.

Dumbledore stayed a bit longer to explain in full detail the arrangements Head Healer Pyek had demanded and the compromises made with help from Madam Pomfrey. We also talked a bit about my classes and the topics I had missed. In a way, it was mindless talk, and repetitive. I knew by heart St. Mungo's protocol with the Hogwarts matron. I could already picture the hours I would spend with her in the Hospital Wing and all the questions and vitals she would record to send to Pyek. Of school work, I knew all that I had missed, even when I hadn't learned it yet with blood knowledge. My obsession with catching up to the curriculum had let me to memorize them by heart. But since Dumbledore was in no hurry to get back to school and I had nothing better to do, we humoured each other with the other's company.

That mindless chatter was interrupted with two visitors. One of them a surprise, really. The door opened and Head Healer Pyek entered. Her face sported a pleasant smile as the old woman went to hover around the desk that was still kept in my room. She didn't speak as she let herself in. There was little point, really, as she had spoken to me at length in the morning. Behind her came the surprise visitor. The Minister for Magic, Harold Minchum.

His face was grave, his pointy hat askew on his balding head and I knew that shit hit the fan somehow. It always fucking did.

"Everything alright Harold?" Dumbledore, I knew picked up on my train of thought. I was certain, even more, when I knew that the two wizards were old friends. They knew each other. My eyes darted to the Headmaster of Hogwarts. His solemn expression was indication enough that something was indeed wrong.

"Albus, Faraday," Minchum said and the tone of his voice was enough to get me to glue my eyes to him. He shook his head, fishing into his robes. From them emerged a roll, and when he straightened it, I recognized it as the Daily Prophet. "We have a problem."

I watched intently as the Minister presented to us the fresh looking parchment, his wrinkled and spotted hands holding it like it was delicate. It made me think it might be cursed or that it would explode if held wrong. I edged forward to see the paper more clearly, though there was really no need. What I needed to read was written in large bold letters. It read:

Revealed! A descendant of Merlin and Morgana in Hogwarts.

AN: Ah yeah.

So when I began writing this chapter I realized I forgot how to write Faraday, not in the dream. Took me a while but I think I managed it. Next chapter will feature the Prophet's article. Let's see how I manage that lol.

There's still no electricity or phone signal in my house. I'm getting frustrated. I can't even look for new fics to read.

To all that previously commented, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You guys rock!