Admitted

by Ralinde

When the famous Quidditch player Rolanda Hooch is admitted in the Hogwarts hospital wing for a concussion, Poppy Pomfrey finds that her symptoms indicate a different problem. While she tries to help her overcome her health issues, there is something sparking between them that either witch tries to ignore.

2. Chapter 2 - Rolanda

Rolanda had difficulties adapting. She had only agreed on the Quidditch Clinics because Albus was an old friend, but she had never intended to stay at Hogwarts for longer than a week. She missed the routine of training daily. The long days of nothingness in the ward made her feel tense en jittery. She knew she needed rest, needed sleep, but she just couldn't. Two-and-a-half hours, that was the maximum she made in one go at the moment. She could do with some Invigoration Draught, if only a sip, but Madam Pomfrey had carefully stowed away her supply. She had even, to Rolanda's annoyance, deemed it necessary to put the ingredients that would have allowed her to brew her own potion in a locked cabinet. Un unnecessary precaution: The potion took close to three hours to brew, and she was barely left alone for longer than an hour.

She had however made a conscious decision not to go to St Mungo's. There, the days would be just as dull, if not duller. There, she would have been treated as Rolanda Hooch, the famous-Beater-gone astray. At St Mungo's there would always be a chance that someone couldn't resist the amount of money one of the less scrupulous members of the press was willing to pay in exchange for an exclusive story on her downfall. She had meant what she had said, the other day. She felt she could trust the matron of the Hogwarts' ward. Madam Pomfrey treated her like she would any other patient, with a certain disregard for decorum that Rolanda found both annoying and refreshing.

She wondered how her team had done in the match against the Arrows, and whether or not Coach Wellington believed her story. He hadn't replied to her letter. She couldn't decide if that was a good or a bad sign. But no one at Hogwarts seemed to read Quidditch Weekly, at least no one currently in the hospital wing. She had checked their bedside tables when everyone – except her – was sleeping.

-0-0-

Two days after the match, Madam Pomfrey came in with a serious look on her face.

"You won't like what I'm going to tell you," she began straightforward.

"Good, no skipping around it, I like that," Rolanda remarked. "Tell me. Did the Wansps lose last weekend?"

"I wouldn't know about that," the younger woman replied. "Anyway, that's not what I meant. I've been doing some reading," she said and as to illustrate it she held up a small volume.

"Not much is know about your condition, but those that have written about it, describe a serious withdrawal symptom that occurs after ten to fourteen days. At some point in the upcoming days, you'll be getting hallucinations. They could last from an hour to an entire night, no one can tell for certain. They'll be quite forceful however, that much is sure. So, as of tonight, I'll lock the door that links your room to the ward."

"Why, because you're afraid I'm going to hurt your students?" Rolanda sneered, trying to hide the fact that this new information was worrying her. "And I thought you said I'd get hallucinations if I continued using the Draught, but now you're telling me I'll get them either way? Why did you not tell straight away? If I get hallucinations when I'm using it, and as well when I'm not, then what's the point in stopping altogether?"

"I never said I was an expert at this," Madam Pomfrey said softly. "I'm sorry if you feel you got wrong footed, I'm mostly learning along the way with the aid of what other Healers have described. If you wanted an expert, who maybe would have told you this on the very first day, you should have gone to St Mungo's as I suggested."

She took a breath and before Rolanda had a chance to retort, she said. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. You had your reasons for not going there, and I respect that. I would just ask of you that in return, you have confidence in me that I really am doing everything I can to help you get through this as smoothly as possible. I may not be treating you in the way the experts would, and I might make mistakes along the way, but together, I believe we can tackle this. But we need to trust each other."

Rolanda looked at the other woman, measuring her. She was oddly taken aback by the mention of mutual trust. She hadn't realised before that Madam Pomfrey was also taking a risk with treating her at Hogwarts. She knew enough about addicts – it was the first time she thought of herself as such – to know that her behaviour could have gotten unpredictable, violent even. And then this woman would be very vulnerable.

"You have my confidence," she said eventually. "And I hope I have yours as well."

"You do," Madam Pomfrey confirmed. "I wouldn't be treating you here if I didn't feel you were putting in your effort, of if I didn't trust you."

"As for locking the door, yes, I do need to think of the students' safety. But it's also for your own protection and privacy. Merlin knows what hallucinations you'll get or how you'll react to them, and any peculiar antics in the middle of he night are bound to have students contact the Daily Prophet."

"That's… actually very considerate of you," Rolanda admitted grudgingly. "Thank you."

"Of course, the door to my quarters remains unlocked at all times. I'll check on you regularly, but otherwise I'll be sleeping and you can just knock on my bedroom door. I sleep lightly."

Rolanda's respect for the matron grew. It would have been just as easy for her to let Rolanda handle her own mess. Especially since Rolanda knew she must not be the easiest patient in the ward. She felt she owed her an apology.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I know I'm not an easy person to work with." She let out a laugh. "Never have been, really. So forgive this grumpy old woman her manners. I never intended to doubt you or your methods."

"You're not old!" Madam Pomfrey protested.

"Oh, just grumpy then?"

"You're going through a difficult time."

Rolanda grinned, the heavy atmosphere of only moments ago was gone. "Ever so diplomatic. You'd make a great spokeswoman for the Wasps. 'We didn't lose, we just gave the other team the opportunity to showcase their new talent'."

"I'd be horrible at it. Honestly, I just know the difference between a Quaffle and a Bludger."

"Really?" Rolanda couldn't believe it. How could anyone not know such basic details?

"No, not really," Madam Pomfrey shook her head, amused. "I used to be an aficionada when I was still a student."

"What happened?"

"I dated someone on my House team for a while. It didn't end well." She shrugged. "I kinda lost interest after that."

"That's a shame," Rolanda said. She felt there was more to the story but she didn't pry. What right did she have, after all? They didn't know each other all that well. "You know what? Once this is over, and I'm fully recovered, I'll take you to a match," she promised. "A proper one. How about the England-Norway qualifier for the World Cup? That's in six weeks. No, no, I insist," she said when Madam Pomfrey wanted to object. "I want to repay you for your kindness. And if I can reignite your interest in Quidditch at the same time, that's just a bonus. Wait, I'll be recovered by then, won't I?" she added, suddenly doubtful.

"I have every reason to believe you will," Madam Pomfrey said. "And thank you, it would be nice to go to the match with you." She smiled; a warm, open smile that put a soft glow on her face. The sudden flutter in Rolanda's chest was surely just a coincidental withdrawal symptom.

"Well, I'll need to continue my rounds. I'll be back later."

"I'm not going anywhere," Rolanda said with a laugh.

-0-0-

She woke disorientated. She was hungry, and thirsty, and very, very groggy. She opened her eyes, but the brightness in the room made her head ache. She closed her eyes again.

"I see you're awake," a friendly voice somewhere near her feet said. The voice was vaguely familiar.

She tried to sit up but that only made her dizzy.

"Easy now," the voice instructed her. "Don't go too hasty. Take your time."

Rolanda tried to determine where she was whilst keeping her eyes closed. She was not at home, that much was sure. She also wasn't in some hotel, because no hotel she ever knew of posted room service in the room. Slowly, she regained figments of her memory, enough to recall where she was and why she was there. She tried speaking and succeeded on the third attempt. Her throat and lips were dry.

"Why do I feel so run over?" she whispered. "Why am I so hungry and thirsty?"

"That might be because you slept for about thirty hours," the voice replied. "Here, I brought you a glass of water. With a straw, so you don't have to get up just yet."

Rolanda eagerly drank from the proffered straw. That felt better.

The voice, she now remembered, belonged to the matron of the ward, Madam Pomfrey. Silly actually to call her Madam, she's about half my age, Rolanda thought.

"Would you like something to eat? Some toast perhaps?"

Rolanda nodded. "That would be nice."

"Good, I'll get you some. I'll be back in a blink."

When she had left the room, Rolanda tried once again to open her eyes, one eye at a time now. She blinked a couple of times. Once her eyes were fully adjusted to the light, she tried getting up. First on your side, Rolanda, she cautioned herself. Finally she sat upright. She drank more of the water and she felt a bit better. Then the questions came. However did I sleep thirty hours on end? She was up to two-and-a-half, three hours of consecutive sleep last thing she remembered. Did Madam Pomfrey give me a Sleeping Draught? As soon as the thought arose, she dismissed it. No, Madam Pomfrey had been very explicit about that from the start, Rolanda should not take Sleeping Draught. Then what happened? And what on earth am I wearing? she thought as she realised she had an old-fashioned nightgown on.

Madam Pomfrey re-entered the room, carrying a tray. On it was a plate with hot toast, a small dish of fresh butter and a jar of honey. Next to the plate was a small porcelain vase with cornflowers. The smell of the food was mouth-watering and Rolanda decided that her questions could wait.

-0-0-

About half an hour later, Madam Pomfrey returned again. "So, do you feel a bit better?"

"Yes, I do actually," Rolanda replied. "Thanks. The combination of toast, butter and honey was just what I needed apparently. And the cornflowers were a nice touch. How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"They're my favourite."

"They are? I did not know that." Madam Pomfrey smiled. "They are my favourite as well. I love this hue, there are only so many blue flowers and this one is so bright and beautiful… They might be considered a weed by some but I disagree."

Rolanda nodded. "I know. There isn't enough appreciation for them."

She was pleasantly surprised to learn that they shared the same favourite flower.

"Could I ask you some questions?"

"Sure." Madam Pomfrey seated herself on the foot end of the bed. "You probably want to know what happened?"

Rolanda nodded. "How did I sleep for so many hours on end? And where did this come from?" she pointed at the nightgown.

Madam Pomfrey blushed. "The gown is one of mine, actually. What? I know they're not exactly modern, but they're comfortable and they are the most practical when I'm making rounds, especially in winter," she said defiantly.

Rolanda's disbelief surely showed on her face. She tried to picture the woman opposite her in this old fashioned gown, but failed. "O-kay," she said at last. "But that still doesn't explain why I'm wearing them."

"You don't remember anything?" Madam Pomfrey asked carefully.

Rolanda shook her head.

"Oh dear," Madam Pomfrey muttered.

"Oh Merlin, did I do something embarrassing?" Rolanda groaned. "Do I even want to know?"

"Do you remember I told you you'd get hallucinations?"

Rolanda nodded. "As if I'd forget."

"Well," Madam Pomfrey continued. "You woke from a short period of sleep around two am. I reckon you had slept about one-and-a-half hour, shorter than what you usually sleep in one go. You were … panicked. You run around, in your room and in my quarters, yelling that someone had hexed your clothes and could I not see that they were shrinking? You said they were strangling the life out of you, that you could feel them getting tighter and tighter and that you were afraid they'd break your bones and eventually suffocate you. You tried tearing them off, but you were unsuccessful. You then found a pair of first aid scissors and tried cutting your clothes up. I had to pry them from your hands to keep you from harming yourself."

Madam Pomfrey paused for a moment and Rolanda tried to picture it in her mind. She didn't like the sound of it.

"It sounds like I made a complete idiot of myself," she said.

"Don't say that!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed. "It's not your fault. Anyway, once I had taken the scissors away, you attacked me." She subconsciously touched her temple and Rolanda noticed she spotted a blue-ish mark that had been mostly concealed with make-up.

"Oh Merlin, I'm so terribly sorry," she said. She buried her face in her hands. "I'm so ashamed. Please, forgive me."

"I take it it's not your habit to hit the people who care for you," Madam Pomfrey replied and tilted her head a little.

"No of course not! I may be a Beater, but that's only my profession, not my nature!"

"I know. I know you weren't yourself at the moment. Apologies accepted, nonetheless."

"Why didn't you stop me?"

"I did," Madam Pomfrey said drily. "So if your shoulder is sore, that's my doing, I'm afraid. And you might have a bruise or two yourself."

"I feel awful," Rolanda confessed. "You don't deserve that after being so kind to me."

"It's okay. We're okay," Madam Pomfrey emphasised. She touched Rolanda's arm. "Honestly, don't fret about it. It's all water under the bridge. I'm just glad you didn't have the scissors anymore."

"How can you joke about it?"

"I told you, it's really not an issue. Do you want to know me to continue?"

"I don't know," Rolanda groaned. She glanced between her fingers at the other woman. "Do I?"

"That's up to you. It's okay no to want to hear the rest of it. I could always tell you later, if you feel more up to it then."

Rolanda hesitated. On the one hand, she didn't know if she could handle more embarrassment. On the other hand, she thought it was necessary to know the truth. And the nightgown was still a mystery to her. In the end, curiosity won. "Tell me."

"After I had secured your hands around your back, you quieted down a bit. You were still panicking about your clothes suffocating you, so I helped you out of them, sure that that would make you feel better. It did, for a while, as did the hot cocoa I gave you. Then you suddenly jumped up, scratching your arms. You said ants were crawling under your skin. Apparently, the itching got worse and worse and you scratched until your arms were raw. I really didn't know what to do. Nothing I said or did helped."

Rolanda tried to picture it in her mind but failed. I must have had it in really bad, she thought.

Here Madam Pomfrey hesitated a moment. "You had goosebumps all over and your teeth clattered, but you didn't notice you were cold. When I told you, you refused to put your clothes back on. They were still hexed after all. So I… eventually cheated. I took out one of my nightgowns that I knew would keep you warm. I told you they were treated with a special anti-ant solution and that you needed to keep them on in order for the ants to disappear. And that it also a carried a protection within it's fibres that prevented it from hexes and curses. You believed me and let me help you put them on. You were a lot calmer after that. You curled up in my fauteuil like a kitten and dosed off. I knew then that the worst of your episode was over. I managed to convince you that your bed was the safest place to be in at the moment and helped you back to it."

She paused again. "I'm not proud of what I did: I lied to you when you were at your most vulnerable. But I didn't know what else to do and you were in a really bad state. I'm sorry," she ended softly.

This time it was Rolanda who touched Madam Pomfrey's arm. "I know. It's okay. We're okay," she echoed the matron's words of earlier. This woman really is extraordinary.

Madam Pomfrey smiled. Rolanda returned the smile.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for believing in me and for standing by my side. I don't know what I did to deserve someone who cares for me the way you do."

Madam Pomfrey blushed. "I'm glad that I can help you."

They sat in a companionable silence for a moment.

"I'll get your clothes and your own nightwear," Madam Pomfrey said eventually.

"You know what? I think I'll keep it," Rolanda replied. "You're right, it is comfortable."

"I have some goods news for you as well," Madam Pomfrey remembered. "Now that you've slept for so many consecutive hours, we can start the rehabilitation trajectory. Your body has rested enough. You'll notice that you no longer have a tremor in your hands."

"You're right!" Rolanda said, baffled. "I hadn't even realised it, but now that you mention it, they're not trembling anymore."

"That also means that you don't have to be confined to this room anymore. I've arranged with Albus that you can give Quidditch trainings for the time being. That can be your guise to explain your prolonged stay at Hogwarts. The students really liked the Clinics you gave, and we even convinced Minerva to concede the training of her House team to you. And between you and me, that's saying something. She's really fierce about them," Madam Pomfrey grinned.

"Oh, she doesn't know the real reason you're staying!" she hasted to add. "Only Albus does. And you and I of course. But we didn't inform the rest of the staff. As far as they know, you help out with the Quidditch training as long as your concussion prevents you from flying yourself, to 'stay in touch with the game'."

"You really seem to have thought about everything," Rolanda said. She was impressed. No one had ever gone through so much trouble for her, apart from her parents.

"How many trainings are we talking about exactly?"

"We were thinking you'd best start easy, one per house a week in the first week. So that's four trainings in the first week. We can see how you feel then and we can always extend from there."

It was a good perspective. Rolanda was happy that she was finally sort of starting to get better. The past two weeks had been really difficult. But she had liked giving the clinics as well. It would be nice to finally have something to occupy her again.

"I won't be called Professor," she warned Madam Pomfrey. "That doesn't suit me. And neither does Trainer. That reminds me too much of Coach Wellington." She realised as she said, that she still hadn't heard him, not even a query as to how she was faring. After two weeks, that had to be bad sign, she decided and her face clouded.

"So what do you want the students to call you then?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"I'll just stick to Madam Hooch, I think."

"I'll make sure the students know about that. I'll also ask Albus for the key to your quarters. If he did as promised, they will be aired and well cleaned by now. It wouldn't surprise me if he has arranged for woodblocks near the fire place, even though it's summer."

"I get my own lodgings?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Yes. That better fits your guise."

"That's quite a bit of confidence you put in me. How do you know I won't go brewing my own Invigorating Draught there?"

"I know you wouldn't. You've come so far already, you'll not go back to how you were before. And if you were, I'd be terribly disappointed at not being the judge of character I think I am. You got this, Madam Hooch. You said before you had confidence in me. Now, I want you to have confidence in yourself."

"But, will I have to do the rest of the trajectory on my own?" Rolanda asked, incredulous.

"Of course not," Madam Pomfrey replied. "I wouldn't let you down like that. No, we'll continue your treatment but it won't be as intense as it has been the past two weeks. And you're free to walk the castle grounds instead of having to stay in the ward the whole time. It will help you in your healing process. Your body needs to get used to doing stuff without the help of the Draught before you can get back on a broom."

They talked through some more technicalities.

-0-0-

Once Madam Pomfrey had left, Rolanda let herself fall back onto her pillow. She knew she was making considerable progress and that it was a really good sign that she would be allowed to leave the ward. Why, then, did she feel so disappointed?