The pain was unbelievable. I wanted to die. I slumped against the wall, thrashing and shivering. It was horrible. Malfoy just stood there, smiling, laughing. That face was the last thing I saw before I blacked out.
I woke up in the hospital wing three days later. I was weak. So weak that I could not even sit up. I strained my eyes so I could get a glimpse of my surroundings. I noticed that the two beds next to mine were also occupied. I gasped. I knew who else was hurt.
Madam Pomphery entered the room and rushed over to me.
"Dearly dearly me," she said. "You are finally up. I was worried that we had lost you. We had no parent contact information so we weren't even sure who to call if you had died. Thank goodness you are okay."
"I feel horrible," I said in a cracked little voice that did not sound like my own.
"Understandable. You were put under extreme pain for a prolonged period of time. It is amazing that you are still alive and sane. The school just can't believe who would curse you. I mean, we thought of Mr. Malfoy but then again, he was the one who brought you in here to begin with."
"Malfoy brought me here?" I screamed. "Malfoy was the one who told that great oaf of a friend of his to curse me. It was Malfoy!"
"Oh dear me. You are a little delerious. Just rest for a while. I will check on you in a few hours."
She just walked out of the room. I was furious. This was an outrage. I was mad. Very very mad. I wanted to get him. I wanted to hurt Malfoy so badly, but I could not even get out of bed. Gently a called out, "Harry? Harry wake up! I need to talk to you!"
"Wha," Harry grumbled. "Oh, my head!"
Harry sat up and stared at me with a dazed expression.
"What happened to me?" he asked.
"You, I and well…..how do I explain this. No one was ever supposed to find out. What am I to do?" I said softly.
How was I to properly explain this to him? How could one explain the unexplainable?
I began to tell the story. Of how we were twins. How we were connected by the curse mentally, physically, emotionally. How when we are hurt, the others feel it. How we were all, in a way, hit with the curse.
Harry seemed to understand, but by his winces, I could tell that our story was simply increasing the intensity of his headache.
Then it dawned on me. Where was Chris? My brother. That new assistant of Hagrid's was not in this infirmary.
I bolted out of my bed and whispered, "Chris. Where is he!"
Harry gave me a confused look but this I had no time to explain. I ran out of the room and down the corridor. Hagrid, though I did not know him well, he might know where my brother was. I ran until I found myself at the hut and I banged on the door. There was not answer but I was desperate. I ran into the house and my face fell. A lump lay in the middle of the room, it wasn't moving.