A Potion for Pain

By Swallow Sallow

            Harry sat up in bed with a start. He absently rubbed at his scar as the sharp pain that had awoken him quickly abated. Harry sighed and eased back into his pillow. He had felt these twinges more and more frequently in the last few months. At first, he had thought of Voldemort when he woke up like this, allowing unpleasant memories to twist themselves into nightmares.

In the last month, since Draco had been found dead under suspicious circumstances, Harry thought of nothing but his Slytherin peer when the scar pained him. His dreams had become almost pleasant, portraying an idealized image of the blonde. Harry would dream of the past, of Draco in his friendliest and most heroic moments. Harry would also dream of things that he had never let his conscious mind embrace.

These dreams would often turn sour, too. Harry would dream endlessly of death scenarios for Draco. While he could not know the truth behind the other boy's demise, he did know who was responsible. Draco may have been misguided and, at times, cruel. However, over the years he had left no doubt as to the nature of his spirit. He had died because he refused to bow to his father's master. Harry knew it.

On this night, Harry did not drift back to sleep immediately, as years of nightmares and visions had trained him to do. Movement and sound around the castle caught his attention. He slipped out of bed and padded barefoot to the Griffindor common room. He had no idea what time it was, but noted that it was late enough that the fire was reduced to a scattering of embers. He took in the sight of a dozen housemates standing throughout the room, all clad in pajamas and mussed hair.

"What's happening?" Harry asked, spotting Seamus standing nearby.

"Not sure," Seamus replied. "I heard talking and screaming. From the girl's dorm, I think"

Harry's eyes swept the room until he saw Hermione making her way across the room. Harry jumped when he heard Ron's voice behind him.

"What the hell is going on here?" the redhead asked, as he descended the dorm steps.

"It's Katie Bell," Hermione informed them, face pale. "Professor McGonagall came in and woke her up. They came down to the common room. I heard Katie scream, but she was gone by the time I got here."

"It's her mum," said Ginny, joining the small group. "I was up reading and I came down when I heard talking. I stopped outside the room when I realized it was the Professor talking."

"Well?" Ron asked, annoyed.

"It's…" Ginny blanched, looking close to tears. "Her mum's dead. That's all I heard. Katie started crying and McGonagall led her out into the hall. I shouldn't have listened."

Several other Griffindors had listened in on the conversation. The information spread quickly around the room, and soon the students were silent. They milled around the common room, speaking in hushed tones or not at all. A few other students wandered down from the dorms and were filled in with what little information was available. Someone prodded the fire back to life and Harry sat near it with Hermione and Ron. He listened to muted conversation around him as the other students speculated about Katie's mom, wondering what had happened and sharing what little they knew about the woman. It was several hours before the common room began to empty as people filtered back up to their dorm rooms.

The next day, Dumbledore made an announcement during breakfast. He acknowledged that Katie mother had indeed died, explaining that he hoped to quell rumors by being upfront with any information that he had. Dumbledore went into a lecture about loss and wartime and the availability of Professors if the students felt that they needed to talk. This was a variation on a speech that the students had heard far too frequently. 

Harry gritted his teeth and tuned the headmaster out.

'Voldemort,' he thought. 'After all these years, people refuse to say his name, to say that he is responsible. Maybe, it doesn't need to be said. He's become a given in our lives.'