Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of those much richer than myself.
Author's Note: I proofread this at about three am, so please endure with any mistakes. It was either update now or in two days.
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Chapter 14
Returning and Recovering
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Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.
~ George Satmayana
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A feverish haze enshrouded his mind the entire train ride back. He was very surprised he was even able to get on and off at the right stations. He sat against the hard plastic seat with his head in hands the entire time, occasionally muttering to himself. Quite a few Muggles shot suspicious glares in his direction, but he ignored them. He didn't care about Muggles, didn't care where he was, didn't care what was going on. Everything had a dreamy blur and cloudy fog veiled his brain. He didn't remember anything about what seemed like a short, uneventful trip home, and his thoughts refused to dwell on that subject. At one point, he remembered waking up and noticing a thin scar trailing across his palm. 'What was that from?' he wondered idly, gazing at the healed gash. A small voice in the back of his mind told him that question wasn't important, and in his very exhausted state, he obeyed the voice.
The train finally pulled to a slow, rumbling stop in a snowy white Hogsmeade. Cesare clutched his bag with one hand, and staggered off the Hogwarts Express. He squinted to see through the swirling snow. He focused his attention on the blurry outline of a huge man.
"Ya got yer bag wit ya? Good. Les' go then," the man said and opened the door of a waiting stagecoach.
Cesare stared at him through uncomprehending, glazed eyes. "You're ....... you're Hagrid," he said stupidly.
Hagrid looked peered closely at him. "You don't look so well, lad. Perhaps I bes' ......."
He was interrupted when Cesare suddenly stumbled forward, and collapsed to the snowy ground. Hagrid immediately hurried to the crumpled figure and helped him to his feet.
"Yes. Yes, I believe ya bes' be going straight ta Madame Pomfrey!" he said anxiously and helped Cesare aboard the stage coach. The ride back was bumpy, and as they passed the stone gargoyles guarding the entrance, Hagrid let out a sigh of relief. The young wizard next to him was getting greener with every passing moment.
As Hagrid helped him into the castle and to the infirmary, he couldn't stop himself from asking, "What 'APPENED ta ya?"
Che looked up at him. His eyes were startlingly blank. "I don't know. I don't remember," he said honestly.
Madame Pomfrey was busing measuring out Pepper-Up potion when they entered. She took one look at Cesare's feverish face.
"Help him to a bed, Hagrid," she ordered and swooped over Che. She peered into his eyes and felt his forehead with the back of her hand. A perplexed expression twisted her features.
"If I didn't know better, I would think you simply had the flu, but something ....... something is not right about your look." She looked lost in her thoughts for a moment, and then went to a cabinet behind her desk. She pulled out appeared to be a thermometer, but instead of degrees, it read in numbers from one to ten.
"I think you may have reacted badly to a spell. Do you have any magical allergies that you are aware of? Boomslang? Rat hearts? Dragon scales?"
Cesare shook his head weakly. She stuck the thermometer under his tongue and waited. After a few minutes, she read it.
"I was correct. Mr. Jalil, have you performed any strange curses or made any unusual potions in the last twenty-four hours?" she asked in a stern voice.
"No, I just remember waking up on the train and feeling this way."
He could tell from her cross face that she didn't believe a word he said.
Madam Pomfrey walked Hagrid out and Che heard her mutter, "Probably just doing some spells he wasn't supposed to and it backfired. I'll keep an eye on him. Thank you for helping him here."
Hagrid left and Madame Pomfrey came back with a smoking goblet. "You're obviously exhausted. You need your rest. This sleeping potion should help."
Cesare drank it quickly and immediately felt his eyelids close.
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Hermione and Harry walked down towards Hagrid's small hut near the forest, their boots crunching into the newly-fallen snow. He had told them to stop by for an after dinner chat. Harry knocked on the heavy door. He heard Fang howling inside, but there was no other answer.
"Hagrid?" he yelled at the window. Hermione looked perplexed. She shivered and pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders.
"He did say we could stop by now, right?"
Harry nodded. He started to bang on the door again, but a loud voice from behind stopped him.
"Hey, Harry. Give the door a rest ther'," Hagrid said with a smile as he walked towards his home.
"Hullo, Hagrid," Hermione said warmly.
"Sorry I'm late. Jus' helping Cezare aJail' back inta tha school."
Hermione's eyes lit up. "He's back already?" she asked anxiously. "I thought he wouldn't be back for a few days?"
Hagrid shrugged. "Beats the heck outta me. Looked a bit off-color so I took him ta the infirmary wing. Tha's why I was late meeting yer."
Hermione paled as Hagrid let them into the cabin. "He looked sick, though?"
"Yeah. Bit dazed too. Madame Pomfrey thinks he was doing some magic that backfired on 'im."
Harry and Hermione exchanged dark glances, each thinking the same thing.
Their visit with Hagrid wasn't as enjoyable as usual. Hermione kept looking longingly towards the door, but Hagrid didn't appear to notice. He was talking excitedly about dragons.
"We haven' done much wit 'em in class. Thought I'd speak to Charlie Weasley about bringin' one fer a lesson. Dumbledore seems ta think it be interesin'. Course I'd need some more handlers for safety."
Harry smiled at Hagrid, trying to ignore the fact that he never wanted to be up close to a dragon again after the Tri-Wizard Tournament. "I bet the class would like that," he lied, relishing the look of terror on Malfoy's face when he learned he had to be within fire-breathing range of a dragon.
Hagrid looked at the clock over the mantle. "I been keeping ya! You bes' be heading up to your common room before curfew." He stood up to open the door for them.
"Thanks for visiting!" he beamed as they walked out.
"Anytime," they chorused and hurried to the castle.
"What do you think happened to Che?" Hermione whispered as they headed to the hospital wing.
"I dunno. Maybe he's just sick," Harry said hopefully. He didn't Hagrid would have mentioned anything about Cesare if he had been covered in bruises. He probably would have gone straight to Dumbledore.
They knocked on the door and Madame Pomfrey opened it looking annoyed. She narrowed her eyes when she saw who was there.
"You!" she accused Harry. "I thought you were so anxious to leave? Now you're back again so soon?"
Hermione quickly intervened before Harry could worsen the situation. "Please, Madame Pomfrey. We just want to visit Cesare. We'll be quick," she promised quickly.
Madame Pomfrey grumbled under her breath, but she swung the door open. "Five minutes, Miss Granger."
Hermione nodded, and she and Harry walked towards the only occupied bed. Hermione immediately knew what Hagrid meant by off-color. Cesare's olive toned skin was unusually pale and sallow. Dark circles hung under his closed eyes. His black eyelashes fluttered open at their approach, and he cracked a weak smile.
"Hey, guys," he croaked. His voice sounded tired and harsh.
Cesare's appearance startled Harry. "What happened to you?!" he demanded, the question plaguing his mind.
Che tilted his head up towards Harry and the glazed look in his eyes bothered him even more.
"I, uh, I just got sick, I guess," he stammered out. He sounded as surprised as they were at his condition.
Hermione looked concerned and shot a look at Madame Pomfrey's back. She was busy mixing something on her desk. Hermione leaned in closer to Cesare and whispered, "So what happened? Why did he send for you? We thought you'd becoming back with the other students."
Cesare opened his mouth, but hesitated. He didn't know how to answer that question. And then suddenly he remembered. A beautiful explanation suddenly appeared in his mind, so rational he was amazed he had forgotten it.
"It was my grandfather," he answered smoothly. "He passed away. He'd been sick for awhile," he added. The words felt rehearsed.
"Your grandfather? You've never spoken about him before." Hermione asked, puzzled.
"I barely knew him." Che shrugged. "My presence at the funeral was a mere formality."
Harry narrowed his eyes. He barely knew him? Was that supposed to explain the utter lack or emotion and grief in his voice when he spoke about a family member's death?
"Well, I'm sorry," Harry said.
"I am too," Hermione spoke up.
Cesare shrugged again. "It's not a big deal."
Hermione was slightly shocked at his indifference. She knew his family situation was ..... a bit difficult, but he didn't seem to have any reaction at all to his grandfather's passing. She persisted, believing that maybe he was hiding his grief. "But still, he WAS your grandfather. I'm sure his loss comes hard."
Cesare shook his head. "No. I didn't know him, okay? Can we end this discussion?" he asked curtly. He wasn't sure why, but something in him was telling him to be quiet. 'Why were Harry and Hermione being so noisy?' the voice asked. This wasn't any of their business.
Hermione took a small step back, hurt at his sharp voice. Harry looked equally surprised, but quickly masked his reaction, his mind spinning with thoughts.
"Okay, fine. I understand." He changed the subject quickly by bringing out a large bar of Honeydukes chocolate. He saw Cesare eye the bar.
"Well, I was gonna give you this, but now I don't know. I wouldn't want to make this little, weak patient any worse ........."
"You better hand it over or this little, weak patient might have to hit a Bludger at you when he gets better," Che said warningly, even if his voice sounded a little strained.
Harry smiled teasingly and tucked the candy bar under his pillow. "Don't let Madame Pomfrey see that or she'll PUT me in the hospital wing again," he joked.
Hermione looked unapprovingly at Harry, but didn't voice her concern about breaking rules. Instead she gave Cesare a small smile. "Well, at least we still have a few days off. So if you're stuck here for a bit, at least you won't miss any classes."
Both Harry and Cesare looked at her with identical looks of bewilderment and disbelief.
"'Mione ........ how ........" Harry started.
"Is that a good thing?" Che finished.
Hermione pursed her lips together in disapproval. "You mean you would like to miss classes and fall behind?" she asked dangerously.
"Yeah, why not?"
She sighed, a small sound that implied her troubles over dealing with these underachievers.
But Cesare looked troubled. "You say break isn't over? How- how long was I gone?" he asked, confused.
Hermione narrowed her eyes, thinking that he was playing a joke on her. "You don't SERIOUSLY mean that you don't know how many days you were gone?"
Che blinked. "No, at least I don't think so," he said slowly.
"Three days," Harry answered before Hermione could get a word in.
Hermione however was insistent and stubborn. "Now, just WAIT a second. You don't know how long you were gone? How is that possible?"
Cesare opened his mouth, but wasn't sure what to say. He wished he hadn't brought up the topic again. His mind was still so foggy; he couldn't think straight.
Madame Pomfrey saved him, however; in the nick of time.
"It's been over ten minutes!" she shrieked. "You're interfering in the recovery of this patient!"
Not wanting to endure anymore of Madame Pomfrey's wrath, Hermione and Harry decided to duck out rather quickly.
"Bye, Che. Feel better," Harry said.
"You'll be out in no time," Hermione promised. Cesare smiled, but it was a mere, weak shadow of his normal cocky grin.
"Ciao."
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Hermione grabbed Harry's arm as soon as they closed the door of the infirmary and whirled him around to face her.
"Something happened," she said in an insistent whisper.
Harry shook his head. "Not here." He pulled her down the dark hallway and into an empty corridor leading to the kitchens. It was deathly quiet; even the portraits were silent.
"Now, what did you want to say?" Harry looked at her. A slither of moonlight streamed in from a high window, illuminating her worried face.
"Harry, I have a really bad feeling about his trip home. Cesare is completely out of it. He didn't even know how long he was gone for and ....... and look at him! He looks exhausted and sick and ........ I just don't know. But something is very wrong!"
"I know. I know. I think you're right," Harry agreed.
"You do?" Hermione seemed surprised. "Why did you want to talk about it over here then?" She gestured to the silent, empty hallway.
"It's just .......... well." Harry hesitated, unsure whether or not to continue. "Something Hagrid told me stuck in my mind."
"What did he say about what?"
Harry took a breath, considered his option, but his concern for Hermione weighed heavily on his conscience. He told her about his conversation with Hagrid concerning Cesare.
Hermione's reaction surprised him. Instead of being simply quizzical, she was angry.
Narrowing her eyes, she said loudly, "Well, I think he's wrong! He doesn't know Cesare at all! I honestly don't give a fiddler's fart who his father is! Cesare is our friend!"
Harry raised his palms. "I'm not saying Hagrid is right. I just thought you should know. Besides," he said, lowering his voice so Hermione wouldn't yell again. "You have to admit. He's not exactly the most trusting person. Do we really know him that well at all?"
Anger flashed in Hermione's eyes. "I'm not listening to this. 'I' trust him. And I think I know him better than you!" She whirled around and stomped off.
Harry watched her leave with widened eyes, shocked at how upset she had become. Why was she so defensive of Cesare?
He mulled the question over as he headed back to the common room. He remembered when he had walked in on Christmas Eve. For a second that night he had thought ......... that maybe ......
No, it wasn't possible. Cesare and Hermione? No way.
But the possibility was still creeping up on him when he got to his dormitory.
"Don't think on it, Potter!" he said exasperated to himself.
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The last days of Christmas break were long. Hermione was still being icy with Harry and neither of them was permitted to visit Cesare again. Madame Pomfrey seemed to be holding a grudge lately and firmly believed that Che wouldn't get better if he was allowed visitors.
Finally the Hogwarts Express pulled in and all the students came back. Harry was relieved to have Ron back and quickly explained at dinner that night why Hermione was acting bizarre. "Weird," Ron commented as he shoved mashed potatoes in his mouth. "I tell ya, that kid gets stranger and stranger."
Harry shrugged and scooped up some steak and kidney pie. "I dunno. I think we're friends, but he's still disappears a lot and doesn't seem to tell us stuff. I think he has problems trusting other people."
Ron nodded. "Maybe. But you have to admit, what Hagrid said makes me suspicious. His family makes the Malfoy's look like a buncha fluffy kittens. Cesare doesn't even know who his father is. But," he pointed his fork in the air to emphasize something. "Know what? The teachers DO act weird around him. Kinda like they did at first around you, but I dunno. In a different way," he mused.
Harry looked puzzled. "I wish we knew." He looked down the table suddenly.
"Hey, where IS Hermione? She hasn't welcomed you back yet."
"Maybe she ate earlier," Ron suggested. "We'll probably see her back on the common room later." Harry nodded.
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Hermione walked past the hospital wing. Where WAS he? Cesare had snuck her out a note explaining that he was going to leave the hospital wing after dinner. She had finished early so she could meet him.
She walked out of the wing towards the staircase landing. She saw a familiar silhouette standing with his back to her at the railing.
Cesare had his hands clasped behind his back and seemed to be staring out, deep in contemplation.
Hermione smiled and walked towards him. She was suddenly struck by the thought that he looked taller. He seemed to be holding himself differently, more powerfully.
"Sneaking up on me?" he asked suddenly, but playfully, without turning around. Hermione came up behind him and wrapped her arm around his waist.
"How did you know I was there?" she joked.
An enigmatic smile curled on his face. "I just knew." There was a strange glint in his eyes.
"You look much better," she remarked. And he did. He almost looked healthier and stronger than he usually did. He held her waist gently, but she even thought she felt more power in his already strong arms.
"Thanks. I think I looked as if I was on my deathbed before," he joked.
"Yeah, you were pretty sick. Did she ever figure out what was wrong with you?"
Cesare shrugged. "No, but it's not important. I am fine now."
Hermione trailed her fingers down his face. "You look alright to me," she smiled. He leaned down and kissed her lightly.
She looked up at him in wonderment when he pulled away. "But ...... there's something different about you. I can't put my finger on it."
He laughed. "You're crazy. I am just the same Cesare. I promise," he assured her.
Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked down the hallway. But she couldn't let that nagging feeling go. There WAS something different about him. It was in his posture, his smile, even his words. What was it?
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-_~ Author's Note ~_-
The next chapter is finished and ready to be posted, but please write me some reviews first! I've only gotten one for the past three chapters! Please!
Thanks to T.H. and Carina, as always.
