Darcy noticed that Elizabeth had become increasingly agitated in the past week. He tried asking her if anything was amiss, but she only curtly thanked him for his concern and sent him on his way. She was not well, he knew, and he desperately wished she would let him help her with her burden. As with her books, however, she stubbornly resisted his assistance, so he only watched and took advantage of whatever opportunities he could to offer his friendship.
After seeing Elizabeth snap at Lydia, something he had not witnessed since the first month of school, Darcy became well and truly concerned. He even tried applying to Mary, slim though he knew his chances were.
Mary had sighed deeply and looked at Darcy with frustration and what might be described as pity. "I still will not break my sister's confidence, Darcy," she had said firmly. "I do, however, believe you are acting wisely by not trying to force her. As much as we both may wish she behave differently, the best current course is to allow her time and space to process."
Finally, Darcy thought to try prying Bingley for information, an endeavor that had born much more fruit. Bingley confided that Jane had been sent a letter by Mrs. Bennet in which the woman had failed to acknowledge her second daughter. Jane had subsequently sent a lengthy missive to her father and, as of yet, received no answer.
Darcy's heart ached for Elizabeth. He was consumed by the desire to show her that the opinions of her parents were not shared by all, but painfully held himself back with the knowledge that he would not be met favorably by Elizabeth yet, if ever, and his assurances would only drive her further away and increase her discomfort.
As one week turned into two, Elizabeth's very physicality began to reflect her inner struggle. The sparkle had dimmed from her eyes, which had slight bags under them. Her shoulders seemed stooped. She sometimes stared blankly ahead for several minutes, even during class. She became consistently pale. Many of her fellow students thought she was simply succumbing to too many responsibilities again, and Darcy was grateful for their being so mislead, but he knew better.
The final straw in Darcy's resolve to leave Elizabeth completely be came one day after Transfiguration. He had been taking his time packing his things, as McGonagall had asked Elizabeth to stay behind a moment. He made a fuss of rolling his parchment, and, even though he knew he should not, kept a keen ear trained on Elizabeth and the professor.
"Bennet, you are worrying me," McGonagall said plainly. "Is there something going on that I should be made aware of?"
"It is not a matter you can assist with, Professor," Elizabeth answered, "therefore I will not burden you with it. I will be well with time, and truly appreciate your concern."
McGonagall regarded Elizabeth with thinned lips for a few moments. "I think I should like to catch up with Mrs. Gardiner further. Perhaps you would do me the favor of asking your aunt to come to Hogsmeade this weekend or next."
Elizabeth gave a weak smile. "The Gardiners have only a little more influence in the matter than you, Professor," she said. "If you are truly only wanting to socialize with Mrs. Gardiner, I am certain a letter from you would be well received." She then quit the room.
Darcy heard Elizabeth leave. Just before he followed her out, he looked back at McGonagall to see that the woman had crossed her arms, half-collapsed against her desk, and was looking at her retreating student with unfiltered sadness and concern.
His mind made up, Darcy hoisted his bag over his shoulder and followed Elizabeth through the halls at a distance. She would not accept his help directly, but he would be damned if he was not there if the time came that she needed someone. Delicately balancing protecting her and not smothering her, Darcy barely let Elizabeth out of his sight from that moment on.
Practice was not going well. Lizzy thought she might as well just tack it onto her growing list of frustrations and let practice out early, saving herself some bother. Obligation staid her desire, however, and she took a deep breath to try working with her teammates again.
"You keep falling for my feint, Siobhan!" Lizzy said. Octavius was behind the goalposts retrieving the Quaffle that had sailed through Siobhan's attempts to stop it. "You know the signs. Observe them!"
As Octavius threw the Quaffle back to Lizzy, Siobhan made her reply. "I'll get it soon, I promise! Give it another go, Lizzy. We know full well Higgins has his team practicing this all over the place. I need to get used to it."
Lizzy barely restrained from snapping that Siobhan had plenty of time to get used to the Chasing tactic, both from their scrimmages with Ravenclaw and her own use of it for the past thirty minutes. Siobhan was trying, she knew. She also knew that Siobhan's difficulty was not the ultimate cause of her foul mood and that taking her anger out on her teammate would not go over well. If anything, she ought to be grateful for Siobhan's continued determination.
"Alright, we'll try ten more times, but then we really ought to move on to something else, for all our sakes," Lizzy said.
What else Lizzy would have her team move on to, she was not sure. Ezra seemed to be flying slower than usual. He had yet to catch the Snitch through practice, and he usually managed to do so at least twice by now. Levi and Julian were hard at work, practicing their aim by trying to alter Phoebe's flight path as she zoomed back and forth across the pitch, but they also seemed to be not at their best.
Suddenly, a crack and a pained shout rang out across the pitch, and Lizzy knew practice was over.
"What happened?" she demanded, flying over to Phoebe, who was holding her brother up on his broom.
"I didn't mean to, honest!" Levi said in a panicked fashion.
"It's not your fault, Levi," Phoebe said as she wiped her brother's suddenly sweaty face with her sleeve. "Julian mistimed his swing by just the wrong amount. The Bludger caught him full on in the elbow, probably shattered it."
Lizzy sighed, then grabbed Julian's broom handle and directed him toward the ground with Phoebe's assistance.
"Come on, Julian, let's get you to Madam Pomfrey," said Phoebe, addressing her brother more gently than she usually did. "She'll fix you right up. You can be back on your broom tomorrow, I bet."
"Well, Lizzy, what now?" asked Ezra, the last of the team to come to the ground, as the Weasleys started back toward the castle.
"Just go back to the dormitory," Lizzy snapped. She quickly realized her error and managed to smile at her team and say more politely, "This just isn't our night. We'll try again next time, after we all get some sleep and have a good meal or two. Everyone's got to have a bad night sometime or another, right?"
Her teammates somewhat placated, everyone put their things away and bid Lizzy goodnight before beginning to trek across the grounds.
Lizzy considered walking back with her team, but thought her presence might not be appreciated at just that moment. She collapsed on top of the crate of Quidditch equipment and buried her face in her hands. For several minutes, she simply sat and thought.
Lizzy was absolutely furious with herself. She knew she was acting completely out of character and ridiculous, yet she could not manage to snap herself out of the prevailing mood she had been stuck in since Jane got that letter from Mrs. Bennet.
She tried to reason with herself anew. Her foul mood was affecting all her relationships, she knew. Lydia had all but ceased asking for help on assignments and, with many of the other younger Gryffindors, had started tiptoeing around Lizzy and finding whatever excuses possible to give her ample space. Josephine, Phoebe, and Zebulon stayed close to her, but they did not speak overly much and seemed instead to simply act as a barrier to keep Lizzy from lashing out at others. Worse than being avoided, however, was being pitied, as Lizzy knew she was. She could see it in the eyes of her professors. Jane felt sorry for her, also, as did Bingley, though the couple tried to hide it.
Lizzy was altogether sick of it. That she could not simply shrug off the fact that her mother had cut her was excessively bothersome. Mrs. Bennet had never particularly cared for Lizzy, so why should it matter so much that she now failed to acknowledge her daughter?
Thoughts that were becoming annoyingly frequent came next: that Lizzy was not truly so bothered by her mother's behavior as she was by her father's. Before going to Hogwarts, she had shared a special bond with her father and felt confident in his care. Their relationship had changed when she went to school, certainly, and she even came to recognize that he was not as attentive as he could have been. To have him leave her to her mother's impulsive vindictiveness, however, was something Lizzy had not expected, and it tore at her greatly. She supposed she always knew her issues with her mother would come to a head, but had thought she could depend on her father to protect her. Being proved wrong left her feeling empty and alone. Perhaps he had not cared for her as much as she thought.
Letting out a frustrated growl, Lizzy shoved herself up from the trunk on which she had sat and stowed it away properly before beginning the journey back to the castle. She did not want to think about her father. She would rather cling to anger than become despondent.
As she stomped across the grounds, Lizzy began running through her list of assignments in her head. She had begun to relax somewhat when she heard a shuffle in the shadows of the castle.
"Hello?" she asked irritably into the darkness. Briefly, she wondered if one of her teammates had stayed back to execute a marvelously poorly thought out prank. Belief that her teammates could not be so abysmally foolish, however, won out, and Lizzy exposed the handle of her wand from up her sleeve as a precaution when her inquiry went unanswered.
Lizzy had hardly paid it any mind, especially since her thoughts had been so much occupied by her parents, but she knew that Malfoy was still dreadfully upset that she had found favor with Lady Matlock, and she remembered Darcy's warning well. Each day, it seemed, brought more fury and hatred to Malfoy's pale visage, and Lizzy would not put it past him to come after her.
Quite suddenly, Lizzy was blinded by a brilliant flash of light. Instinctively, she threw up a Shield Charm, and was immensely grateful as the first flash was followed by several more, though they were dimmer.
Lizzy's dueling training quickly took over. She recognized her vision was impaired; it was dark, and her eyes had been overwhelmed by the sudden light. That would sort itself out with time, though she was not sure how much of the luxury she could expect. Lizzy also noted that she was at the bottom of a hill, and her assailant had the high ground. At least she knew the direction of her opponent. After taking a brief moment to collect herself, Lizzy lowered her shield and began her own combative assault.
It did not take long for Lizzy to recognize that her assailant, whom she was certain she could guess, was not playing by the rules of polite dueling. She was disturbed to find that she was struggling to defend herself and gain any ground against spells which she never practiced. They were not considered acceptable in most dueling circles. Lizzy quickly acknowledged that there was a great deal of difference between a duel for sport and a duel as a true fight, and she adjusted her strategy to accommodate the realization.
Lizzy had finally started to gain ground, moving her way up the hill as her vision started to become adjusted to the strange mix of darkness and flashing light. She had just begun thinking she might actually achieve the high ground and be able to put herself between the entrance of the castle and her assailant when pain suddenly exploded through her head and she stopped processing sound.
Lizzy gasped and thought her ears might even be bleeding, such was her level of discomfort. Her thoughts raced as she tried to find a solution. She relied on her hearing in a duel, she knew. Without it, she would have a great deal of difficulty tracking her attacker. One sense completely eliminated, and other hindered, Lizzy knew her options were slim.
She hurried to call upon her knowledge of her likely assailant. If Malfoy was on the other end of the wand, he would want her to see his face before he finished the fight, such was his arrogance. With such thoughts in mind, Lizzy allowed herself to double over and felt her chest convulsing as if releasing whimpers, though she was not able to confirm if she was actually making the appropriate noises or not. She clutched her hands to her ears, but kept a firm grip on her wand and a keen eye on the ground around her.
Finally, a pair of boots came into the edge of her line of vision. Lizzy took as deep a breath as she was able and braced herself to go on the offensive again, but the boots suddenly left the ground entirely. Light began flashing again.
Certain that her opponent was sufficiently occupied, at least for the time being, Lizzy rolled further into the shadows of the school, put her wand to her right ear, and began chanting. When she was at last able to hear muffled sounds around her, Lizzy declared herself ready to engage again and sought out her original assailant. Instead, she turned to find Darcy running toward her, wand in hand.
"What are you doing here?" Elizabeth asked. She knew she was being louder than necessary, but could not stop herself and figured it was at least an indication to Darcy that he would need to speak up.
"I saw all the lights and just knew," Darcy said. His voice sounded faint, but Elizabeth could see that his neck was strained from the effort of the true volume he must have been exercising. "You know who it was, I am sure. I made sure he went back – "
"What?" Elizabeth asked as Darcy's voice dipped below the volume she was able to hear.
"You're bleeding!" Darcy exclaimed.
Elizabeth looked down at her hands to realize they were indeed covered in blood, though there was not a cut on them. She brought a hand to her ear, then held it in front of her fact to see dark liquid reflecting off Darcy's wand light. "Oh," she murmured. She had thought she might be bleeding, but had not thought it to be to such a degree.
"You need to get to Madam Pomfrey immediately," Darcy said loudly, reaching out to take her arm.
Elizabeth batted him away, putting her wand to her left ear this time and beginning to chant again.
"What in the world has happened out here?"
Elizabeth whipped around to see her wide-eyed head of house approaching. She quickly put her hands behind her back and began trying to wipe the blood from them on her Quidditch robes. "Professor McGonagall!" she tried to say pleasantly.
"I demand answers, Bennet, not pleasantries," McGonagall said harshly.
"I was just on my way back from practice, Professor," Elizabeth answered. "I cannot speak for Mr. Darcy."
"On your way back from practice?" McGonagall asked shrewdly. "Is that why you are surrounded by evidence of a duel? I know you are both studying with Professor Flitwick and entered in a competition, but I was given to understand that it had been quite clearly stated you were not to practice without his supervision!"
"Miss Bennet was attacked, Professor," said Darcy.
Elizabeth felt her eyes widen drastically as she turned her head to glare at Darcy. He seemed not to take notice.
"I believe someone was lying in wait and hoping she would return from practice by herself," Darcy elaborated under McGonagall's stern gaze. "I was on my way back from tending my thestrals when I saw and interfered. The attacker made a quick escape to the castle."
"Is this true, Ben – Is that blood?"
Elizabeth had been so distracted by trying to show her anger to Darcy that she had forgotten about her blood-soaked hands, which were now balled into fists at her side.
McGonagall lit her wand and shone it mercilessly on Elizabeth before gasping.
"It's not as bad as it looks, Professor!" Elizabeth said quickly.
"Oh, Elizabeth, you cannot possibly believe that," McGonagall said sadly. She put a gentle arm around Elizabeth and began guiding her back to the castle, all anger abandoned.
McGonagall addressing and treating her in such a fashion broke something in Elizabeth, and she suddenly shivered and felt weak about her knees, her strength abruptly failing her.
"Grab her other side, Darcy," McGonagall directed as Elizabeth stumbled.
Elizabeth felt her feet leave the ground entirely, but could not find in herself the desire to object. Her mind suddenly flooded with pleasant memories of being carried about by her father and she set her arms around the neck of her transport. She heard a few more words exchanged, but did not care enough to try to decipher them. Instead, she allowed her eyes to close and gave herself over to her imagination.
Darcy looked at the precious burden in his arms with incredible concern. Under different circumstances, he might have been delighted that Elizabeth seemed not to object to being carried by him, and even more so by her arms settled around his neck, but the fact that her blood was soaking through his robes rather put a damper on the whole event.
McGonagall had given Darcy stern instructions not to be seen by anyone on his way to the hospital wing, which seemed quite manageable as curfew had started ten minutes ago, then rushed off to find Jane and consult her fellow heads of house and Dumbledore as to how the whole situation might be handled. She promised to be in the hospital wing in an hour.
When he had seen the telling flashes of light from the Forbidden Forest, Darcy knew Elizabeth was in trouble. He had pelted out of the forest toward the duel, and his heart had almost stopped completely at the sight that greeted him. The horrifying vision of Elizabeth curled up on the ground, face contorted in pain, hands pressed to her head, agonized moans escaping her, was something Darcy was sure would haunt his nightmares for years to come.
Rage had consumed him, and Darcy hardly recalled his ensuing duel with Malfoy, though he was sure killing him had been a near thing. Upset though he was at the moment that Malfoy still drew breath, Darcy knew he would come to see, with time, that the situation was greatly simplified because of it. Legalities, family complications, and his own guilt would have been quite a lot to deal with.
Guilt was not entirely escapable, however. Darcy felt keenly responsible for Elizabeth's pitiable and concerning condition. After days of keeping constant vigil over her, Darcy had allowed himself to be distracted by his thestrals, believing her to be safe with her teammates. He should have known, after seeing her do it so effectively with nearly everyone else over the past weeks, that she would manage to isolate herself from them. His negligence had given Malfoy the opportunity to harm her.
Darcy kicked open the door to the hospital wing and called loudly for Madam Pomfrey.
"Boy, can you not just enter politely, as is the cust – Merlin's beard!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, stopping short in her berating of Darcy.
"Miss Bennet was attacked on her way back from Quidditch practice," Darcy said. He did not break stride as he made for a bed to deposit Elizabeth onto so Pomfrey could set to work. "She did a basic counter curse on her ears, but they have continued to bleed."
When Darcy made to set Elizabeth down, her grip on his neck tightened. Pomfrey saw as much happen and impatiently kicked a footstool over so Darcy could sit on the edge of the bed with Elizabeth still in his arms. The well-practiced woman easily moved about, her wand flying through the air, as she inspected and began working on Elizabeth.
The door to the hospital wing burst open and Jane rushed in, Bingley following in her wake.
"Oh, Lizzy!" Jane cried upon catching sight of her sister.
"Make yourself useful, Bennet," Pomfrey ordered before Jane could begin spiraling. She sent Jane for several potions, waved Bingley out of her way, and continued tending to Elizabeth.
As Jane and Pomfrey continued fluttering about, Darcy allowed himself to simply gaze at Elizabeth. That she was uncomfortable was clear, but she kept her eyes firmly shut. As the women tending her began thinking aloud on how to best address going about stopping the continuation of the curse in effect and aiding the healing, Elizabeth turned her face fully into Darcy's shoulder. Unable to resist offering some form of comfort, Darcy bent his neck to quickly plant a kiss in Elizabeth's hair before drawing her closer to himself.
At hearing a pointed clearing of the throat, Darcy turned to see Bingley at his side, a basin and a washcloth in hand. Darcy gave a nod of thanks before adjusting Elizabeth slightly so he could hold her with one arm, then used his other hand to take the washcloth and begin carefully wiping at the blood still progressing down her neck.
Eventually, McGonagall came to the hospital wing with Dumbledore. Madam Pomfrey was greatly relieved to see the headmaster and asked he look Elizabeth over as he was much more proficient at dealing with curses of such magnitude than she was. Dumbledore wasted no time obliging, and pronounced the curse broken after no less than ten minutes spent in agonizingly tense silence.
Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Free of the obligation of acting as a healer, Jane began crying and, ignoring any awkwardness in the arrangement, hugged her sister still ensconced in Darcy's arms. She wrapped her hands gently around Elizabeth's head and managed to expose her sister's face. Though Elizabeth's features were smeared with the blood that had soaked into the shoulder of Darcy's robes, Jane littered them with kisses and started whispering endearments.
Loathed though he was to release her, Darcy worked with Jane's unconscious efforts and carefully transferred care of Elizabeth's person over. Before long, Jane was cradling her sister's head and stroking her hair as she encouraged her to lie down.
"I should like to hear your recollection of the events leading to our current predicament, Mr. Darcy," said Dumbledore.
Darcy set his lips in a grim line. He looked to Bingley, who gave a firm and understanding nod. Confident Bingley would not leave Elizabeth unattended, Darcy dutifully answered the headmaster, "Yes, Professor." He followed Dumbledore out of the room, trusting Elizabeth to the care of her sister, future brother, and head of house. Madam Pomfrey had retreated to her office to prepare a report on the incident.
His interview with Dumbledore was to the point, which Darcy appreciated. He chose to hold nothing back. In addition to stating the facts of the evening, Darcy shared the ongoing animosity Malfoy displayed toward Elizabeth and his firm belief that it was Malfoy that had made the attack with a great deal of premeditation.
"You are certain it was Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked. He had been silent through Darcy's entire tale. Though Darcy believed Dumbledore to be well and truly upset by what had happened to his student, he maintained his objectivity and seemed determined to see the issue through to the bitter end. Darcy appreciated the man's steadfastness.
"I fought him off, Professor," Darcy said through his teeth. The image of Malfoy's smug satisfaction in response to Elizabeth's pain was not one he would be quick to forget. "I know Malfoy's face well enough to be confident."
Dumbledore simply stared at Darcy for a few moments, seemingly contemplating his next step. "I know you are eager to return to the hospital wing, Mr. Darcy, and I should like you to be able to do so as soon as possible," he said. "Before any more time passes, allowing recollections to be reworked and sullied, however, I will need you to write down everything you have told me."
"Am I to assume you will pursue some sort of legal action?" Darcy asked as Dumbledore set a scroll of parchment and a quill before him.
"I can hardly do otherwise," said Dumbledore. "Even if I wished to, I could not ignore such a savage attack on Hogwarts grounds. No Mr. Darcy, I will be sure this incident goes through all the proper channels."
"And Malfoy's punishment, sir?" Darcy asked, perhaps a little too eagerly.
Dumbledore silently regarded Darcy over his connected fingertips for a few moments. "Your statement, Mr. Darcy."
Understanding the discussion to be closed, Darcy picked up the quill with a sigh and began writing.
Author's Note
So, who's surprised? Share your reactions with me! I'm very curious what you think.
