XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Chapter 4: Madam Pomfrey's Unfortunate Decree
Róisín woke. She rubbed her dry eyes and grimaced as she realised her hair was sticking to her sweaty forehead. She reached out, but her thin hawthorn wand wasn't on her bedside table. This wasn't her room. She sat up and looked around. Why was she in the hospital wing?
Then it dawned on her; something happened with Eóghan last night.
Over the past month, she had spent a lot of time with the Scotsman. She practiced flying with him often, and she had partnered with him to do their Care of Magical Creatures assignment, for which each group had to monitor one of the new-born thestral foals. As a group, they had the advantage that Eóghan could see the thestrals, unlike Róisín and most of the class. They had named the foal they were assigned "Bumbly" because Eóghan had assured her he was a lot clumsier than his peers.
They had kissed once. It happened when they were alone in one of the Ravenclaw mini libraries, supposedly studying. It ended abruptly when a first year stumbled into the room. Róisín felt uneasy during the brief kiss. She hoped it was because she was nervous, and nothing to do with whatever had happened a month before on the Quidditch pitch, of which neither of them had spoken.
Last night she had gone to Eóghan's room to work on an Arithmancy assignment. While she leaned closer to him, pointing out a mistake in a calculation, he had placed his hand on her thigh. She recalled how the light from the candles played with the angles of his face and made his naturally heartfelt smile appear even warmer. Róisín had turned towards him and he had kissed her, sliding his hand higher up her skirt. Róisín sighed as she remembered moving from his desk to his bed, clutching his t-shirt and pulling him on top of her. He had kissed down her body above her clothes. She had shivered with excitement. It was her first time on a guy's bed. She blushed as she recalled how she had felt too warm and panted, like a dog locked in a hot car.
Then her memory became hazy. She vaguely remembered Eóghan lifting her skirt but could recall nothing more. Did he bewitch me?
Róisín shook her head, Eóghan would never do that. So why couldn't she fool around like a normal eighteen-year-old? Why did it have such a strange effect on her?
Her thoughts were interrupted by Madam Pomfrey hurrying into the hospital wing, her arm wrapped around a crying first year. Professor McGonagall followed swiftly behind. They brought the boy to the far end of the wing. Róisín heard them murmur softly to him. Pomfrey left the boy with McGonagall and approached Róisín. She noticed that Pomfrey's normal bustling stride was gone, replaced with tired movements as if the air around her had grown heavy.
"That poor, poor boy," the matron muttered, her expression wilted. "What is happening to our world?"
Róisín sent her a puzzled look.
"Oh, of course, you haven't heard! There was an attack on that poor boy's family and his muggle father was killed."
"By who?" Róisín asked in shock.
"Well, you-know-who, of course! Not him directly, I'm sure, but his supporters following his orders, although I'll transfigure my arm into a pumpkin if the daily prophet mentions him this morning, oh no, they'll say it was a random barbaric act, or worse, an accident!"
"Why were they attacked?"
"His mother is an unspeakable, she worked in the department for the Study and Protection against Bedevilled-
"-and Blighted Magical Artefacts," Róisín finished. "I did an internship there last year-" Her eyes widened. "Merlin, she isn't Professor Smith, is she?"
"The same, did you work with her?"
"Yes, well, I couldn't do much work, considering how obsessed the unspeakables are with secrecy, but she mentioned her husband a few times." Róisín's stomach sank. "She spoke so lovingly of him."
There was a pause while both witches contemplated the young boy's loss.
"So, it was because of her job?" Róisín questioned.
"We don't know, could be, or because she married a muggle, however, I am not here to discuss the torrid state of affairs of our world, I have to ask you about last night."
Róisín's cheeks went hot as if her freckled skin had spent too long in the sun. The matron pressed on,
"I know you are of age, and it's embarrassing to discuss with an old woman like me, but you have come here twice now after being with Mister McCormack, and last night you were in a most serious condition."
Pomfrey explained to Róisín what Eóghan had told herself and Professor Snape. Róisín felt her throat tighten at the mention of the Slytherin head. Pomfrey continued,
"He said the reason he didn't notice you were unconscious earlier was he was about to…" The matron paused, uncharacteristically hesitant, "…perform oral sex and momentarily didn't notice that you had passed out."
Róisín choked on her own breath.
After regaining her composure, she managed to mumble her own memory of last night.
"Have you engaged in similar activities with other boys before?" Pomfrey asked clinically.
"No, nothing like that, just a few kisses when I was younger."
"Witches and wizards can exhibit all sorts of peculiar magical reactions when they make the transition into adulthood," Pomfrey assured Róisín. "Sometimes their control of their magic can be affected, or they may feel stressed or under the weather, but normally the issue fades with time."
Pomfrey paused and scrutinised Róisín, as if the cause of her illness were written somewhere on her person. Róisín awkwardly wrapped her arms around her small frame.
"Miss Feral, I'm going to have to ask you to refrain from engaging in any sexual behaviour with Mister McCormack or anyone else for a while." Róisín nodded. "Hopefully we'll figure out whatever enchantment or magical allergic reaction you're under soon, and then you can run back into Romeo's arms." Pomfrey winked at her.
"Magical allergic reaction?"
"Oh yes, you could have interacted with some enchanted object that didn't sit well with you, it happens every so often, but there are usually remedies, don't you worry."
Later that day Róisín collapsed onto a couch next to Ida and Anna in the Ravenclaw common room. She had spent the past twenty minutes reasoning through a particularly long-winded logic problem involving a dragon egg, hippogriff, goblin, centaur, a river to cross and a single broom.
"I know the golden eagle riddles are ingenious and everything, but sometimes I think it seriously effects the productivity of us Ravenclaw students," Róisín complained to her friends. "I get that the hippogriff could smell a disillusioned dragon egg, but the goblin, really?"
"Well, we need some way to keep the brainless riff-raff from the inferior houses out, don't we?" Anna asked mockingly.
"Yes, because there is no other way to achieve that, oh wait, what about… passwords," Róisín replied indignantly.
"That eagle was enchanted by Rowena Ravenclaw herself, one thousand years ago, you should show some respect," Ida muttered from between the pages of her "Transfiguration Perfection" textbook.
"Respect! That thing has been wasting the precious study time of our house's students for a thousand years!" Róisín joked and raised her eyebrows to Anna, as Ida huffed and continued reading. Róisín made a habit of pointing out the inefficiencies of the wizarding world, especially if she thought it would lure Ida out of a book and into one of their high-spirited debates.
After a magical pinky-promise in which her friends assured her that they wouldn't tell anyone about her embarrassing problem, Róisín told them everything that had happened with Eóghan. The pinky-promise spell was one she had used to great effect through-out many years of teenage drama. If the promise were broken, her little finger would tingle. Afterwards she went to find Eóghan to tell him Madam Pomfrey's unfortunate decree.