Notes/Disclaimer This is part one of a two part story detailing what happened the spring and summer after Marietta betrayed the DA, written in a dairy format. I don't own Marietta or anything of the Harry Potter world. It all belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing with her characters a bit. Oh, and I'm not British. I tried, but if there's anything I horrendously messed up, please tell me so I can fix it.
Aftermath
Spring
29th March, 1996
Cho gave this to me, told me to write in it, that it would sort out my feelings.
What's there to sort out? I woke up this morning with…with…letters…
Later
Madam Pomfrey took the book away from me until I could calm down. I promised her I'd try. I think she's hoping I'll write down something of importance about my…condition, something I haven't told her. I've told her everything I could, though. I woke up this morning, looked out my bed curtains and when Winnie screamed upon seeing me I went to the mirror and saw –
I think I'm going to be ill again.
Who wakes up with such a horrible jinx on their face? Cho told me it was because I'd betrayed the 'DA' but I have no clue what she's talking about. I've never heard of such nonsense.
I suppose it may be possible that something I did the day before triggered it. But my day was perfectly normal. I went to classes with no major accidents, ate dinner and –
That's funny, I can't seem to recall what happened last night.
But that's ridiculous. My memory has always been quite good. It soaks up facts and figures with little trouble. It's that talent that makes up for what little I can do practically in Charms and Transfiguration and DADA…
This is quite disturbing. I need to sleep on this.
30th March, 1996
Today has been an exhausting day, to say the least. Madam Pomfrey tried lifting the curse from my face, but all she managed to do was to make the purple spots blink. So now I have a blinking 'SNEAK' across my face. Lovely.
Mum came by to see me. She looked horribly disappointed in me somehow, though I'm not sure why. She wanted to know what had happened two nights ago, and again, I couldn't recall it. Except a little bit. I remember hearing Dumbledore saying something that made sense and nodding along to it. I remember Umbridge shaking me. And I remember an explosion and being pushed out of the way. But I told Mum, I'm not sure if I actually remember that or if I made it up. It feels extremely fuzzy. Mum just shook her head. She needed to leave to go back to work.
This bothers me.
1st April, 1996
This is the first time I've spent Easter holiday at school. But I don't want to leave the hospital wing like this, and I still think Mum is a bit vexed with me, though I don't quite understand why.
Still no improvement on the splotches. They've stopped blinking, but now have grown hair. Why is this jinx so hard to undo?
At least it's an easier question than: why do the spots spell 'SNEAK', of all things, in the first place?
6th April, 1996
Today some first year Gryffindor stopped by in the infirmary for a Pepper-Up Potion. It's been really quiet with most of the students gone, but that's rather suited me. Especially since she asked me the most disturbing question.
She looked at me and said: "Hey, Sneak, is it really your fault that Dumbledore had to leave the school?"
I replied that I had no idea. I hadn't even realised that Dumbledore had left the school at all. Why would he?
Later I asked Madam Pomfrey the same question. She just shook her head and refused to look at me.
I can't have done that, though. I would remember if I had done something like that. Wouldn't I?
19th April, 1996
Still no luck with the spots. They're still as glaringly there as ever. I wish I knew what had happened. I've tried talking to Cho about it, but she seems surprisingly closed-lipped. I'm not sure if she's upset that I've told her again and again I've never heard of any DA.
"Marietta, it will be easier if you just admit to it," she says, leaving me to exasperatedly sigh: "Admit to what?"
Honestly.
The thing is, things have gotten odder. I still only have the vaguest of memories from that one night, which no one seems to believe, but there appears to be more. I was looking at my Divination homework and I needed to reference something we had done in our rune casting in March. And I couldn't remember the class I needed to. That's incredibly odd; Divination is my best class, Merlin knows why, and the fact that I…forgot…
Fortunately what I needed was in my notes, but still.
I don't like this.
27th April, 1996
Today I had a confrontation with a Hufflepuff. He came into the infirmary for whatever reason, and when he saw me he just stared at me. Fortunately, today I was wearing a scarf to cover the marks, so I just stared back.
Finally, he broke the silence. "You know, the least you could do is apologise."
"Apologise for what?" I replied.
"For Merlin's sake, you know!" he exclaimed.
"No, I don't," was all I could say. Mum has always taught me to be honest. I don't know why they have such trouble believing me. He stormed out without ever having asked Madam Pomfrey his question.
You would think I had done something horrible.
Except I don't remember doing anything.
29th April, 1996
I just had a long conversation with Cho that I'm not sure what to make of.
I told her about the Hufflepuff asking me to apologise and she just looked at me for a while. Finally, she responded.
"You know, Marietta, it's not outside of his bounds to ask you that. I've tried to be accommodating despite the fact that I think I may have completely lost Harry over you and –"
"Harry?" I interrupted, "Harry Potter who asked you to the Yule Ball last year? How could you have lost Harry on my account? I didn't think you ever had him. In fact, well, what does he have to do with anything?"
Again, she just stared for quite a while. "Merlin, Marietta. What are you trying to do? You know our date didn't go so well and I was hoping to patch things up before –"
"You went on a date?" It really was quite rude to keep interrupting her, but what she had said had rather shocked me, "You went on a date with Harry Potter and didn't u tell /u me?"
"What are you talking about? Of course I told you. I cried and you made tea and…what are you playing at, Marietta Edgecombe?"
"I'm not playing at anything! What are you playing at? I don't remember this at all! It seems like the whole school remembers something that I don't. Is this some kind of joke?"
It was then Cho stopped and looked at me. "You honestly don't remember, do you? But how…it's not like…you remember the DA meeting when I set your sleeve on fire?"
I wracked my brains for a moment, seeing her look. "No. You've never set my sleeve on fire, Cho."
"Madam Pomfrey!" Cho called just then. When the nurse bustled into the room, Cho looked at her, then at me and finally said, "Why didn't you tell me that Marietta was having memory problems?"
Madam Pomfrey's brow furrowed. "I wasn't aware…though I suppose that perhaps the trauma of the event may have caused partial memory loss…"
Memory problems. I've lost parts of my memory. That explains it, that explains why everyone is talking about something I can't…
But I can't have really betrayed this DA thing, could I? There must have been some reason why I did -- if I did.
I wish I could remember.
1st May, 1996
Madam Pomfrey says she can't tell why my memories have gone. She says that that will have to be looked at later, at St. Mungo's most likely. All she can do is work on my face. Which isn't getting better. This time, the spots started chanting the word 'SNEAK'.
I'm really worried.
12 May, 1996
The more I try to remember, it seems like the less I can. I've always had a good memory, though. It was the fact that I could remember the facts that made up for not being able to do my practical lessons up to year level. And yet when I look at my notes from classes, or old homework assignments, or think about Christmas or Valentine's Day…some things I just can't remember.
It's frightening. These are things I should remember. I feel like I should know what this DA thing is. I feel like I should know about Cho and Harry Potter, but instead it's like there's this gaping void…something's tied up; something's missing.
Why is this happening to me?
29th May, 1996
It's been two months that I've been in the Infirmary. Two months. And nothing has changed. The letters are still as prominent on my face as ever.
Professor Flitwick finally came to visit me and return some of the work I've been having Cho turn in for me.
"You're the Charms master; don't you know how to get rid of this?" I pleaded.
To which he looked at me and sighed. "Miss Edgecombe. I hope you do realise that I am a busy man with classes that take my priority. I've been looking into your condition during any free time I might have, and I'm sorry, but the jinx is incredibly complicated. We're trying to counter it as best as we can, but apparently what works in similar cases doesn't work here. Please be patient."
Patient? I've been in the infirmary two months, and it appears huge chunks of my memory from this year are missing and he tell me to be patient?
I don't know how I'm ever going to get caught up in my practical work.
I don't know what happened but I sure wish it never had.
17th June, 1996
I haven't been writing in here as much because there's nothing to write. Sorting out my feelings, I suppose, but there's nothing to sort. I could go on about how frustrated I am by things, but that won't really make any difference. I mean…
Do they think I enjoy this? Do they think I want this? Do they honestly think I want to be stared at every time someone comes into the hospital wing? Do they think I want to hear the whispers of: "sneak"? I get the impression that I am very much being punished for some betrayal, but I don't even know the details of what I did! These gaps in my memory disturb and frighten me! What if nothing can be done? What if they never come back? What if these marks stay on my face the rest of my life shaming the Edgecombe name? How am I supposed to live with bloody 'SNEAK' written across my face and not even remember the circumstances that brought it about? That's more than unfair! That's more than a punishment!
I bloody hate this.
23rd June, 1996
Cho came to visit me again today. It's been a year since Cedric died. I remember that, at least, remember seeing her stricken when Harry dragged out the body of the one she loved. I remember not knowing what to think. Cedric and I had conspired together, you know, to do things for Cho. I helped him sneak…Merlin, I do hate that word…I helped him hide stuff in our room for Valentine's Day. I might even go so far as to have described him as closer to an actual friend than an acquaintance.
It feels nice to remember something for once. Even if the memories are unpleasant.
I wish there was more I could have done for her, though. I'm a useless best friend, sitting here in the hospital wing when she's hurting like this. A failure. Maybe that's what the letters on my face truly mean, to tell me how unworthy of a witch, of a human being I am.
I don't know.
29th June, 1996
There was all kinds of bustle in here last night. McGonagall apparently got hurt somehow. No one told me how, of course, but I was woken up to see her brought in, and in the morning they transferred her to St. Mungo's.
And her I still am, all alone. Completely forgotten.
Merlin, that sounds selfish, doesn't it? But…it's been three months. Three months of doing all my homework and exams here in the Infirmary, not having left, being too embarrassed to face anyone. Other patients have been in and out, but I'm still here.
I just want this to be over.
2nd July, 1996
Oh Merlin. I heard that Dumbledore finally got back to the school a day or two ago. Madam Pomfrey said he'll be coming to talk to me in a couple of days once he has things sorted.
Yet again I'm pushed to the backburner. Marietta Edgecombe with her jinx. Though I suppose in some ways I'm glad I'm being pushed off.
I'm rather scared.
5th July, 1996
I don't know what to think.
I haven't had much personal contact with Dumbledore throughout my years here at Hogwarts, other than that fiasco third year when I ended up in Divination instead of Ancient Runes and Mum was unhappy and nothing changed anyway. It's…odd, being face to face with him. He's so all-knowing…it makes me feel much younger than seventeen.
"I hear you've spent most of this term in the infirmary," he said.
"Er, I have. My face, you see…"
"Unfortunate indeed. Do believe me, Miss Edgecombe, when I say we're working on it as diligently as we are able. It's proving to be remarkably difficult. I have to wonder if repentance for the actions that brought this about might be tied into the reversal."
"Well that's bloody good since I can't even remember what I did," I said bitterly. It wouldn't have surprised me, really, for him to expect me to be sorry for something I can't even remember – like everyone else is! Fortunately, at least, that isn't the case.
"Of course, of course. That is indeed most unfortunate."
"Mum says we'll have St. Mungo's look at it once I get home for the summer," I tell him.
Then he looked at me in that absolutely infuriating way where you can't tell what he's thinking and said, "Ah, yes. Well, since there's nothing really more we can do, I don't suppose you'll need to be keeping a bed here any longer. Surely the next week would best be spent with your peers."
All I could do was gape. "But I can't – look at me!"
"You can't hide forever."
And that…was that. Right now I'm being rushed out by Madam Pomfrey. I think she's glad that she won't have to deal with me anymore.
7th July, 1996
Well, things have been going about as well as expected. That is, not very. I'm much more open for the other students to find, to ask about the SNEAK on my face.
Cho bought me a balaclava, so I wouldn't have to worry about a scarf slipping. That was a nice gesture.
Meanwhile, there's all this buzz about You-Know-Who being back. Didn't Dumbledore say something about that last year? And no-one believed him? But it seems that more people are this year. Even the Daily Prophet is running the story.
That's quite scary. You don't suppose it's possibly true?
14th July, 1996
Here I am, on the train back home. This is not how I expected my sixth year would end, sitting on the train with a balaclava on my face. It makes the spots itch, but having them out in the open would be worse, I know.
We had to pass Harry Potter's compartment on the way to the bathroom. Cho looked in really quickly; I could see a bit of a blush on her face, but I just couldn't look. I kept my eyes to the floor. I couldn't look at Harry Potter, the saviour of the school according to the Prophet, with these marks across my face. And I especially couldn't look at him if I was part of the reason he and Cho weren't able to patch things up.
Some comparison.
We're almost home, it seems. Tomorrow Mum and I'll go to St. Mungo's. They'll fix this. They have to.
Then maybe I can get my life back to normal.