Chapter 21
After bad things happen there is a brief and glorious moment when all is forgotten. I woke the next day feeling rested, peaceful, and blissfully unaware. For a few seconds I laid in the bed, wondering what I was doing in the hospital wing. Then the realization of what had happened all came rushing back. I suddenly remembered why my eyes felt so scratchy, why my head felt as though it was going to explode, and why I was in the hospital wing.
Franco is dead. Franco's mother is dead. Franco's father is dead. But mostly, Franco is dead. Poor, sweet Franco, who loved me no matter what, who was willing to wait for me to come to my senses is cold and dead and I will never see him again.
I could not cry any more. It was worse than that. I felt a pain that I had never felt before. It was empty, gnawing feeling that I thought would never go away.
"Miss Cockerham?" An unfamiliar voice came from behind the white curtains surrounding the bed. "Could I have a word?"
"Yes."
"Oh, good," Albus Dumbledore peeked his long, white beard into the small enclosure and pulled back the curtain. "I thought you might be sleeping still."
I sat up and unconciously attempted to flatten my hair, but it was no use. Even though I was in my seventh year at Hogwarts I had never really spoken to the Headmaster. Of course there were a few words exchanged here and there. I was one of the few who stayed home during the holidays, so he had seen me at Christmas dinner and had spoken to me a few times, but I had never had the chance to get to know him, and vice versa.
"So," Dumbledore said as he took a seat in a chair next to my bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine," I said roughly.
"I'm sorry, that was an insensitive question for me to ask." His blue eyes sparkled and stared right into mine, but I did not feel uncomfortable as I often did with Snape.
"No, it's all right," I said, finding my voice at last. "I think I will be okay." I said it to make him feel better.
"I hope so. If you ever need to talk, I'm always here." His eyes smiled a warm but not overly sentimental smile.
"Thank you." I tried to smile back, but the muscles in my face did not seem to want to. I only managed a slight upturn.
Dumbledore nodded his head and gracefully pulled the curtain closed again.
"Ah, Severus," I heard him say from the end of the room. "Good Afternoon."
"Afternoon, Headmaster," said Snape's cool, silky voice.
I pulled the curtain back just as Snape was reaching for it. He cleared his throat and sat down slowly in the chair that Dumbledore had been occupying a moment before.
We both began to speak at the same time.
"Pr-"
"Me-"
"Sorry," I said. "Go ahead."
Snape cleared his throat again. Is he nervous?
"I know this isn't the best time, but I have something to say that desperately needs to be said." He paused, and when I didn't reply he continued on. "I feel terrible about this entire situation, and I know you might not want to hear this..." Another moment of silence. "I hate myself."
I looked up at him in shock, but he did not meet my eyes. He stood up quickly and almost knocked over the chair.
"I have so much... self-loathing. I hate myself and so I take it out on others. I treat them badly. I treated Franco badly, I've treated you badly." He began to pace the floor. "I blamed it on my father, on Shue, on my mother, but really, it's all my fault." He turned his back to me. "I don't deserve you."
"I know," I whispered, and he spun around, as if he had forgotten I was there. I took a deep breath, and let the words flow out. "but I don't care."
After bad things happen there is a brief and glorious moment when all is forgotten. I woke the next day feeling rested, peaceful, and blissfully unaware. For a few seconds I laid in the bed, wondering what I was doing in the hospital wing. Then the realization of what had happened all came rushing back. I suddenly remembered why my eyes felt so scratchy, why my head felt as though it was going to explode, and why I was in the hospital wing.
Franco is dead. Franco's mother is dead. Franco's father is dead. But mostly, Franco is dead. Poor, sweet Franco, who loved me no matter what, who was willing to wait for me to come to my senses is cold and dead and I will never see him again.
I could not cry any more. It was worse than that. I felt a pain that I had never felt before. It was empty, gnawing feeling that I thought would never go away.
"Miss Cockerham?" An unfamiliar voice came from behind the white curtains surrounding the bed. "Could I have a word?"
"Yes."
"Oh, good," Albus Dumbledore peeked his long, white beard into the small enclosure and pulled back the curtain. "I thought you might be sleeping still."
I sat up and unconciously attempted to flatten my hair, but it was no use. Even though I was in my seventh year at Hogwarts I had never really spoken to the Headmaster. Of course there were a few words exchanged here and there. I was one of the few who stayed home during the holidays, so he had seen me at Christmas dinner and had spoken to me a few times, but I had never had the chance to get to know him, and vice versa.
"So," Dumbledore said as he took a seat in a chair next to my bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine," I said roughly.
"I'm sorry, that was an insensitive question for me to ask." His blue eyes sparkled and stared right into mine, but I did not feel uncomfortable as I often did with Snape.
"No, it's all right," I said, finding my voice at last. "I think I will be okay." I said it to make him feel better.
"I hope so. If you ever need to talk, I'm always here." His eyes smiled a warm but not overly sentimental smile.
"Thank you." I tried to smile back, but the muscles in my face did not seem to want to. I only managed a slight upturn.
Dumbledore nodded his head and gracefully pulled the curtain closed again.
"Ah, Severus," I heard him say from the end of the room. "Good Afternoon."
"Afternoon, Headmaster," said Snape's cool, silky voice.
I pulled the curtain back just as Snape was reaching for it. He cleared his throat and sat down slowly in the chair that Dumbledore had been occupying a moment before.
We both began to speak at the same time.
"Pr-"
"Me-"
"Sorry," I said. "Go ahead."
Snape cleared his throat again. Is he nervous?
"I know this isn't the best time, but I have something to say that desperately needs to be said." He paused, and when I didn't reply he continued on. "I feel terrible about this entire situation, and I know you might not want to hear this..." Another moment of silence. "I hate myself."
I looked up at him in shock, but he did not meet my eyes. He stood up quickly and almost knocked over the chair.
"I have so much... self-loathing. I hate myself and so I take it out on others. I treat them badly. I treated Franco badly, I've treated you badly." He began to pace the floor. "I blamed it on my father, on Shue, on my mother, but really, it's all my fault." He turned his back to me. "I don't deserve you."
"I know," I whispered, and he spun around, as if he had forgotten I was there. I took a deep breath, and let the words flow out. "but I don't care."