Chapter 6

"It's not over, Jude," The cold voice hissed in the darkness. "It will never be over as long as one of us lives. You may think you've won…" The disfigured face of Lazarus appeared; his normal pale blue eyes now blood red. The skin on his left cheek was paled and scarred horribly; his lips and eyebrow gone.

Lazarus chuckled darkly, his maniacal laughter ringing off the walls, "It's only the beginning."

Jude awoke with a harsh grunt, his eyes shut tightly. Slowly, he let them flutter open and was met with the blurry, yet familiar sight of the infirmary ceiling. He mentally cursed himself; he really did injure himself during quidditch matches. It wasn't his fault though. Someone always had it out to get him.

"Nice to see you up, Mr. Porter," Pomfrey's voice resounded in his ears, startling him. He turned his head to the sound, squinting his eyes at the figure in front of him. He heard the old woman chuckle, "Here, you might see better with these."

His body relaxed when his fixed glasses were put over his eyes. He went to sit up, only to wince when a sharp pain flew through his upper body and arm. He glanced down, finding his arm in a sling while it laid on his chest.

Pomfrey sighed, scolding him, "You shouldn't be moving too much. Your arm was broken in three places and your ribs were cracked from the impact. You're lucky to even be moving so much at all."

He grinned playfully, "It's 'cause you're the best healer around, Madam Pomfrey."

The matron rolled her eyes goodheartedly, fixing his sling, "Hold still for a moment and I'll get you a soothing potion. I have to do something at the moment."

Jude glanced around as the woman walked away, wondering what she was busy with when no one else was there. His eyes widened when they landed on a certain teacher standing in front of Pomfrey's desk.

"Professor Harmon," He breathed in disbelief. He swallowed dryly when her eyes landed on him. It was hard to stare back at the teacher who had been so rambunctious before when she now had bags under her bloodshot eyes and pale skin.

Her life must've been terrible over the last few months. She had to adjust to life as a werewolf every full moon. He could see how hard it was weighing on her, and it had only been a little over 6 months since the incident in the chamber.

They told him not to blame himself, but he couldn't help but feel every ounce of guilt he had been holding back when he looked at her.

"Hey, Porter," Harmon rasped, giving a small smile of thanks to Pomfrey when she handed her a goblet. "I see you're back in the infirmary. What happened this time?"

Jude gestured to the sling with his free hand meekly, "Bludger bashed my arm. I wasn't really looking. I was trying to get the snitch."

Harmon's lips twitched amusedly, "Did you win?"

Pomfrey huffed in annoyance when the boy's eyes widened in fright, "Oh for Merlin's sake. Yes, you won. You caught the snitch in your mouth before you slammed your body along the pitch." She shook her head as she went on to making another potion, muttering, "Kids these days; all they care about is quidditch."

The glasses wearing boy sighed in relief, his shoulders slumping, "That's good. I didn't want to get injured for nothing."

He yelped when Pomfrey pressed down on his ribs a bit too hard. He groaned pitifully while the matron rolled her eyes and gave him the potion. He grimaced and drank it all in one gulp.

He turned back to Harmon, gazing at her anxiously, "Are you coming back to teach?"

Harmon exhaled heavily, taking a seat on the boy's bed, "Honestly, Porter, I have no idea." She gave a small smile when the boy deflated sadly, "Hey, it's gonna be okay. Once I get back to a semi-regular routine, I'll be back on my feet."

"Is that what the goblet's for?" He piped up softly.

"Of course," Harmon replied, rubbing her thumbs over it. "I trust you've been paying attention in Potions. Professor Young would have your head if you weren't."

Jude chuckled slightly, "Don't I know it." He bit his lip apprehensively before speaking, "Professor Alexander misses you."

He noticed Harmon's hands twitch at the mention of the History of Magic teacher. He could've sworn he saw her ears perk up as well. "R-Really?" The flying professor questioned in what seemed to be nonchalance.

He nodded, shifting his arm in a more comfortable position in the sleeve, "Yeah. She's always really sad in class. Sometimes she goes into her office, but we all know she's just trying to hide her tears when she does that."

"Crap," Harmon muttered, her hands tightening on the goblet.

He tilted his head curiously, "Does she know you're here?"

The professor opened her mouth, letting out a small croak before shutting it again. She scrunched a hand through her hair with a grimace, "Not really. She doesn't know I've been here at all. She thinks I'm still at home sulking."

"Are you?" Jude asked lightly, his stomach churning. "I mean, I know you're here now, but are you ever going to come back? Are you ever going to feel better?"

"I don't know," Harmon sighed deeply, shaking her head. She turned back to Jude, giving him another small smile, "But hey, don't blame yourself for anything. I chose to help you, and I'm glad I did."

She patted his shoulder as she stood from the bed. She pressed a finger to her lips and winked, "Let's keep this between us, okay? I want it to be a surprise when I come back."

Jude nodded, smiling slightly, "I hope you come back soon, Professor Harmon. School hasn't been the same without you."

Harmon laughed amusedly, ruffling the boy's messy hair, "Flattery will get you nowhere, Porter. You haven't had my class since the first day of your first year. You don't need to butter me up."

He grinned as she walked away, "But do hurry back. I'm sure Professor Alexander would love to have you back." He snickered in his palm when he watched her stumble over her feet before rushing out of the infirmary.

Once Pomfrey gave him the good-to-go with the warning of not overworking himself or his arm, he was on his way to the Great Hall. When he got through the doors, he was met with cheers from the Gryffindor table.

His lips stretched widely, hurting his cheeks as he watched the students, as well as the teachers, from his house stand from their seats and applaud him as he made his way to his friends.

"Porter!"

Jude flinched when he saw the ball of energy known as Carlos Curry barrel his way towards him. He held up his hand just as Jared caught his friend's arm to stop him. He smiled politely, holding out his good hand.

Carlos beamed brightly, shaking the hand energetically. Once he let go, Jude gritted his teeth at the pain pulsed on his torso. He carefully sat down next to James, grunting as he made sure he wasn't hurting his ribs, "Hey, mate."

James chuckled, patting his best friend's shoulder softly while Emma smiled widely at him, "Good to see you up and running, mate."

Jude groaned, holding his right shoulder, "No running. Not for a very long time at least." He exhaled lightly, "So, what happened after I passed out?"

"We won. Isn't that obvious?" James replied jokingly with a grin. He then sighed, the smile fading from his face, "Apparently, the bludger was tampered with again. It was cursed so it could injure you. No one knows who did it yet."

"I see," Jude mumbled, frowning. He smiled gratefully at Emma who put a plate of his favorite food in front of him.

As he was eating and conversing with his friends, he glanced around and found Albus glaring bitterly at him. It wasn't long before he put two and two together and realize why he did it to him. Who else wanted him off the team as much as he did?

He sighed mentally, bringing his attention back to his friends. Even though he knew without a doubt it was Albus, he wasn't going to tell anyone; not even James. Albus was petty and jealous; he wasn't going to let someone like him ruin his school year.