Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to Jo Rowling and her affiliates and the other companies that have a piece of the pie.
Chapter 3
"Could things be really quite so terrible?" Imogene wondered as she saw the grimace upon the Headmaster's face. She had just finished describing all of her ails and symptoms to him.
"I suppose I must tell you eventually," Professor Dumbledore finally said. "Now is as good a time as any."
"So you do know what is wrong with me?" she asked shakily. Did she really want to know?
"I...I do, Miss Spencer. It is actually something that has been expected, though I never thought you were going to be the victim."
"Victim!"
"I'm sorry to alarm you, my dear girl, but you must understand that you are not going to be able to stay here for much longer."
A terrible thought struck her, and she shivered in fear. "Have I been bitten by a werewolf?" she asked in alarm.
"No, no, not that. Although not too far off from the truth," he answered wearily.
"But why won't I be able to stay here?" she whimpered. The nurse looked anxious as well. She knew the girl was no better for the fear that the Headmaster's words were putting into her heart. She was a rather weak creature as it was, and the near-death sentence that he was pronouncing did nothing to improve her constitution.
"Because this will be no place for you, my dear. It has nothing to do with what I want, nor with what you want, but what he wants."
"And who is "he", then?"
"Do you honestly wish to know the truth?"
"If it affects me so seriously, then yes, I do," she replied, drawing herself up from her bed.
"I do not think anybody else should know, in that case," he said, with a nod to the nurse.
She acquiesced and walked into the opposite room. Imogene, meanwhile, braced herself for the blow that was about to come.
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Harry, Ron, and Hermione ran up to the infirmary after breakfast. They could not reach Imogene quickly enough. Hermione had not eaten a thing, while the boys had eaten relatively little. They were ushered into the room by the head nurse who had shooed Hermione away that same morning. The former that the girl could use the company of her friends after the news which had drained all remaining blood from her already-pale face.
Imogene, meanwhile, sat on the edge of her bed, ready to spring out from the nearby window at any time. But she knew now that would be pointless. Any kind of suicide attempt would be pointless. The end was nigh, she thought to herself. The only problem was, the end was not nigh. For all she knew, the end would never come.
Seeing her friends only made her more worried. How would she leave without them knowing. Surely they would want an explanation of her not-too-distant disappearance.
"Imogene!" the three chorused upon entering the room. It didn't take a sensitive nurse or doctor to see that something was truly wrong with her.
She looked up listlessly, her eyes tracing their shadows on the floor. They were real. They had to be told the truth. But was now the right time to do it? Would they even ever look upon her in the same way after they knew?
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The meeting with Dumbledore had gone something like this:
"This started a long time ago," Dumbledore began. "Back when the Gods still reigned supreme. One of them, a goddess, actually, by the name of Aphrodite, was the one to start this all."
"Start what all?" Imogene immediately burst in.
"Listen, and you will know. She was in love with a human. A very handsome human, at that. The other goddesses were jealous that such a handsome man should once again be left to Aphrodite, especially Athene. She told the other goddess that she should not give herself to a human who has not yet proved himself-"
Imogene listened to all this, somewhat confused. How was a story about the Greek gods at all related to her and how terrible she was feeling now?
"The last test she proposed was clearly lethal. She was to bind him under the waters of the sea for an hour. She could not undo the wall that would form on the surface and neither could any other. Aphrodite, then still very young and foolish, did not consider the fragile state that is mortality. However, after two minutes she realised her mistake. Nervous and frightened, she panicked and did the only thing she could think of at that time. She turned her lover into a merman, as he floundered and gasped for lack of air under the water. She made him a son of the seas.
"He was now alone, however, for he was so different, and the goddess could not undo what she had done, so she granted him the opportunity to find a human girl whom he loved and take her to his new ocean home with him. He chose a lovely girl who loved both him and the sea. Aphrodite was pleased and declared that all of their male descendants may choose a human girl for a bride when they found one. Over the years, it was somehow decided between our predecessors that every 30 years, the youngest son may choose his bride from our school," he finally finished, with a sigh.
"A-and I've been chosen, is that it?" she asked nervously. Her heart was beating loudly, and a lump formed in her throat.
"Yes, Miss Spencer. I'm afraid you have been chosen. And yet, it doesn't have to be so terrible, does it? The last girl that was chosen, a Diana Trent, was quite satisfied with her new life. And you will never grow old, get sick, or die. That was one of the gifts Aphrodite bestowed on this line. Immortality, like her own."
"What do you mean, it doesn't have to be terrible! Of course it's going to be terrible! I don't want to go!" She was now becoming hysterical. "Whe-when do I have to go?" she stammered, after lying back down.
"I cannot answer that. But you will know when you must leave," he concluded, trying to keep an encouraging smile on his face. But however hopeful and kind his face was, his words were the most painful and evil that she had ever heard. She no longer belonged here.
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