20
Harry POV
Sarah's whole body shuddered and she froze, face turning white. Ron and I quickly shared a glance before I slowly started towards her, calling her name. Her eyes were terribly mesmerizing, wide and unseeing, yet filling with fear. Seconds later she crumpled with a scream and started to thrash- she was having a seizure. "Sarah!" I yelled, falling next to her and trying to hold her still. The portrait hole burst open and Hermione appeared, dropping her books when she saw Sarah thrashing and jerking, eyes fluttering.
"What did you do?!" She wailed, but turned tail and ran for help. Her question burned in my mind as Sarah's seizure only got more intense as the seconds slipped away- what had we done? Ron and I had just shouted at her, determined for an answer until it literally broke her. This seizure was our fault. Hermione had begged us not to do it, being the better friend and respecting Sarah's wishes. This was the second time I'd hurt Sarah with a stupid mistake, the first was bad enough, but the fits could end up being much worse.
"Out of my way!" McGonagall barked as she ducked through the portrait hole, immediately waving her wand as I scrambled backward. Levitating Sarah onto a stretcher, she left as quickly as she had come, leaving Ron and I to race after her and Hermione. Madam Pompfrey was already waiting for her, and in mere moments they had her in a bed and Madam Pompfrey was flying around, waving her wand, and gathering potions in a made haste. "Back, back off, you three. Now, what caused this, do you know?" McGonagall ordered, even though her voice shook slightly, making us move back to the other side of the ward across from Sarah. Hermione shot the two of us an angry look.
"It-it was our fault, Professor. Harry and I were so worried about her, and-"
"AND?" McGonagall nearly thundered, making Ron look quickly down.
"We tried to get her to talk about it and we had an argument. That's what sparked the seizure." I finished for him, feeling my neck burn with shame as McGonagall's lips nearly vanished in her anger.
"Minerva, I need you!" Madam Pompfrey called, and McGonagall turned on her heel to consult her. "I already gave her the strongest sedative she can take- but it's like I gave her water!" Madam Pompfrey nearly wailed.
"Let me call Professor Dumbledore," McGonagall said, flicking off her Patronus to call him. As she did so, Sarah's fit suddenly stopped, as if she'd turned a switch. Sarah was as stiff as a board, breathing shallowly; her eyes squeezed shut as if concentrating. Her braid was coming out, strands sticking to her sweaty forehead. Her face should have been flushed from effort, but it was still ghostly white.
"Sarah, can you hear me?" Pompfrey said, gently touching her shoulder. Sarah didn't react, just stayed perfectly stiff. Seconds later, the doors opened, and Dumbledore strode down the ward, eyes flashing. He immediately conjured a chair and sat beside her, watching her intently. "She's already had the strongest sedative I can give her, but it's not working." Pompfrey supplied, and Dumbledore nodded absently, twirling his wand in his fingers.
"Her mind is fortified, I cannot tell what is happening. I don't understand why she would use Occlumency now." Dumbledore said, sounding very guarded. I shared a look with Ron and Hermione- what was happening to her? Dumbledore raised his other hand as if to touch her brow, when Sarah choked and convulsed again, making Dumbledore withdraw his hand and pick up his wand. He cast a few spells silently, but they had no affect that I could see. Frowning, he stood up and Vanished his chair. "Harry, Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger, a word, if you will." He said getting up and already walking past us. Hermione walked ahead of us, still clearly angry and I couldn't blame her for it.
"Would you care to explain this?" He said, turning back around to face us once we were farther away from Sarah. Hermione shot us another angry look and crossed her arms.
"It's our fault, sir. We were trying to get Sarah to open up and get whatever was on her chest off. Things got kind of heated, and during the argument she froze, then started having the seizure." I said, gesturing lightly to Ron and already feeling like crap as Dumbledore's furious gaze landed especially on me. I'd asked him about Sarah, and he'd specifically warned me to leave her alone. I was too much of a prat to have listened to him.
"I told you to trust her, Harry. You knew maybe more than I did how fragile Ms. Wimkil was. Do not pry at her again." He said, his voice like ice, and I didn't dare look up; I only nodded mutely with Ron. Dumbledore turned and went back up the ward, retaking his position beside Sarah. Unable to look at Hermione, I sat heavily on the bed closest to me and ran a hand through my hair, feeling incredibly guilty. I never learned from my mistakes- this was the second time I'd screwed Sarah because of a stupid gut feeling that led to a stupid mistake. This time was even worse, however, because I pushed her for my own gain. Ron slowly sat next to me, looking at the floor, and it made me feel even worse. At first, Ron didn't really care, but I'd kept bugging him about it until he finally took my side. He didn't deserve part of the blame.
"I hope you listen to him, and her next time." Hermione said acidly, sitting across from us and shooting an anxious look towards Sarah. "I told you not to. I told you that I didn't know anything, and that Sarah wasn't hiding anything from you."
"Sorry, 'Mione." Ron muttered.
"Don't apologize to me." Hermione hissed, her hands twisting nervously in her lap, not even looking at us. "Apologize to Sarah." She looked down at her hands, started crying, looked at us, then back at her hands. Not knowing what to say, I looked back down. Then the sheer torture of waiting began. The three of us said nothing to each other, just sat helplessly and watched, waiting for the fits to run their course. Sarah froze and then fell into convulsions again like clockwork, some of them more intense then others. After a short, tiny seizure, her sixth for the day, she settled down and the sedative took effect. Dumbledore stood and along with Madam Pompfrey, started waving their wands over her, running tests and trying to find out more.
"Interesting…her mind is still blocked, even from me." Dumbledore broke the silence finally, dropping a hand he was holding over her forehead as Madam Pompfrey straightened her out and started working like mad again. Looking troubled, he strode out of the Hospital Wing without another word.
Sarah POV
I felt like I had when I was thirteen and I had my foot bitten by a dog over the summer. It had swollen up to about the size of a football, and I couldn't do anything on my own. Even with help, all tasks were a challenge. I'd felt like crying. The feeling now was almost exactly the same. The feather around my neck was my light in the darkness, but it couldn't do much. Everything was hard- concentrating was hard, breathing was hard, and fighting back against Bellatrix was near impossible. When the first seizure hit, I was focusing on keeping her from latching onto anything, not a memory, not a function, nothing. She'd broken in, but we'd only fought tooth and nail in my memories. After a long battle, I'd pushed her out, then taken the chance to dive hard into her head. It was a scary place- wickedly dark and cruel, but it caused her pain, made her have the seizures, not me. I'd fought her in her own head, trying to lay my 'hands' on any information I could, but Bellatrix, even while having a fit, was far too skilled at Occlumens. She'd kicked me out and it started all over again. The second time around, I felt weighted down, sluggish. But then I'd get a sudden burst of energy, almost kicking her out, but when the energy would suddenly die, I'd be back to square one. I couldn't understand it, it'd never happened to me before. It was as if I wasn't responding to my own thoughts.
I had no idea of time. It could have been days, even weeks for all I knew. We just went back and forth, back and forth, each time getting weaker and slower. The fight was bitter- we both wanted information, but we kept each other at bay. Finally, I simply barricaded my mind after forcing Bellatrix out, and she didn't attack again, but slunk back to her own mind and strengthened it, ending our miniature war in a stalemate. Exhausted, I let my mind relax behind its borders, and a sedative waiting to take control quickly took hold, helping to calm me down. Before I knew it, I was drifting off into peaceful sleep.
As if I'd risen from inky blackness, I suddenly opened my eyes to see the sterile white ceiling of the Hospital Wing. My body felt broken and disconnected, and my head was fuzzy. Resisting the urge to curse, I pushed myself up a little ways, intent on sitting up fully, but the barrage of pain that came from the simple movement made me quickly reconsider. On my right, Hermione was asleep in a chair, head leaning back, a book fallen in her lap. The sight of her made my heart clench, and I slowly looked to the left. Ron was leaning against the wall, snoring quietly, and Harry's head was drooped. Looking at them, I could only feel guilt. If I could only tell them the truth, all of this wouldn't have happened, and we'd have been happy. Hearing footsteps, I looked away from Harry to see Madam Pompfrey coming over to me. "How are you feeling, Sarah?" She asked, but I put a finger to my lips when Ron grunted slightly; Madam Pompfrey's voice had echoed loudly around us. She huffed and repeated her question quietly.
"My head hurts," My voice came out jagged and rough, making me wince at the sound of it. I sounded like a chain-smoker. Madam Pompfrey summoned a potion and I drank it, feeling instant relief in my head.
"I'm afraid I have some bad news," Madam Pompfrey said to the empty bottle as she set it down on the nightstand, avoiding my gaze. She played nervously with her hands then before looking back up to me.
"What's wrong?" I asked, instantly remembering when she and Dumbledore had ran tests on my head and claimed nothing was wrong, but the changes in their expression had made it clear that everything wasn't alright.
"Professor Dumbledore and I have talked and researched our findings vigorously, but, unfortunately, we both came to the same conclusion." She said sadly, instantly making me nervous. Merlin, what now?
"Madam Pompfrey, please just tell me," I said quietly, glad that my friends were asleep. She hesitated, then looked down before she spoke.
"We both believe that the high stress placed on your brain from Occlumency and Bellatrix Lestrange's presence have made your nervous system susceptible to epilepsy. We both thought that since your Occlumens skills were improving, you'd be able to close the chances of you having it. But during your fits, it became clear that the severity of them had to do with epilepsy." She said after taking a deep breath, leaving me to blink stupidly. Epilepsy? The Muggle disease?
"And this-the epilepsy, it was caused by the mark?" I asked hoarsely, and Madam Pompfrey nodded after a moment. "Is there any magical cure, anything I can take that will help?" I pressed, but she shook her head.
"The only thing we could do for you would be to give you a supply of sedatives at all times, to ease a seizure's affects once they happen. It is very rare among wizards. You'd have to consult a doctor if you wished to take medication for it." Madam Pompfrey said quietly. She propped me up, fluffed my pillow, then left, leaving me to think hard, trying not to cry. The mark had been bad enough- but I'd been getting by, and living with it. But now I had epilepsy, a disease so rare among wizards, there was no treatment for me. And it was all because of Bellatrix Lestrange. Such hate rose in me that my left hand clenched into a fist. A bandage was wrapped around my wrist; I'd been admitted without a covering for the mark. I glared at the square white cotton, feeling more grief than I'd ever let myself feel because of the mark. My eyes smarted, then burned, and despite my best efforts, started to make tears. One trickled down my face and landed on the sheets just as Harry jerked, his head snapping up and his eyes opening blearily. He quickly rubbed them under his glasses then started, seeing that I was awake. Then his face dropped.
"Are you ok?" He asked quietly, and he sounded so destroyed, so ashamed, that I knew that right then and there I had to tell him what I could so we could make a fresh start.