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Chapter 12: In St. Mungo's

For a long moment, as I came to, there was a gut fear in me that I could not shake off.

I hadn't been dreaming or anything; my mind was blank as little by little I realized that I was waking up. My eyes refused to open, influenced by the complete exhaustion I felt brim from the very core of my being. I had the sensation of being spent. I used all there was for me to use in terms of energies and the such, making me now incapable of even opening my eyes.

Laying, in what I could feel was a layered bed, I tried to remember what had happened to put me into such a situation.

I had not forgotten anything. There was no pain in me, but I could remember its lingering presence in every cell of my body. It was a tingling commotion that pushed away the laziness of a dreamless night. Somehow I had stopped myself from changing into an animal. Whether I was an animagus or not, I did not know, but the experience of it had left me scared. Whatever Dumbledore had done helped with the pain of negating the morphing, gave way for another type of ache. I can't quite explain just what I felt when the Headmaster uttered his spell and I lost control over my body. In a way I can remember feeling a new kind of pain, which destroyed me at the same time as I didn't feel it.

Opening my eyes, my vision took a bit more than a minute to get fully adjusted to actually notice my surroundings.

The minute gone, I looked around. The place was more familiar than I liked to admit. Pushing the bed sheet that covered my whole body, I saw the gown I was wearing. I sighed. I was in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, again.

I was in a hospital bed, in a room I would describe as nicer than what one would expect hospital rooms to be like. It reminded me much of the one I had stayed in during the summer that I kind of figured it must had been the same one. I hadn't done much exploring on my first stay; therefore, I had no idea if there were more alike. That led me to believe that I must be in the Fourth Floor again, were Spell Damages were treated for as much as I remembered that was the only Hospital category I could fit into.

I wondered if what happened had been bad enough that Madam Pomfrey couldn't handle it and for that I was sent to St. Mungo's or if it was just because of the Ministry of Magic.

As I was the only living descendant of one of the most powerful wizards in history, and was presumably under age to boot, I was a ward of the Ministry. From the moment I had appeared, to the very moment I was stuck in, my every action was monitored by an office of the magical government. Last time I was in the hospital the Minister himself, Harold Minchum had come to visit me. I found myself hoping for that to not happen again.

There was a knock on the door, but whoever it was did not wait for me to speak up. A woman came in dressed in lime-green robes with an embroidered emblem on her chest which showed a wand and bone, crossed. The lovely looking witch stared at me, smiling when she met my eyes.

"Morning, Faraday." She called as she walked to stand next to me on the bed.

I remembered her, of course. Alessia Green, a young Trainee Healer that was very friendly to me during my stay in the summer. "Alessia? You're still here?"

"Yes, the Head Healer declined my transfer. She claims I have a better future here." Her face had fallen a bit at my rude comment, but I did not feel bad. All she ever talked to me about during the summer was about her getting some fancy apprenticeship in Norway. I was surprised to see her. "You're here too, again."

I sighed at that. "Did you read my file?"

She shook her head. "I wasn't allowed to."

That seemed odd, considering that she was one of the people taking care of me. The Minister was really particular on who to let in on the secret that was me. Alessia didn't know I was a descendant of Merlin, as everyone else in the world, but I would have imagined she knew what my aliment was. "Then why are you here then?"

"I supposed it's just so you have a familiar face to look at."

I didn't say anything. Whoever had ordered Alessia to meet with me had not done me a great favor. Sure, it was nice to see the young Trainee; however I needed someone that could help me make sense of what happened. I needed the Headmaster or my assigned Healer.

"Tell me about school. How have you been enjoying Hogwarts?" With a wave of her wand, she moved a chair that had been pushed back to a wall. She sat as she excitedly waited for me to speak. "Oh, almost slipped my mind! I was instructed to tell you that Albus Dumbledore will come later on today to speak to you. That is after Head Healer Pyek speaks to him."

Well, I had that to look forward to once I finished with Alessia.

My dinner tray had been taken away when Dumbledore knocked on my door.

He was dressed in rich colored robes and like Alessia earlier; he did not bother to wait for me to invite him in. The wizard looked as pleasant as ever when he stood next to me. I had been sitting on my bed, and the only thing I could do as he neared was half smile. It wasn't a smile I was feeling. In all regards, I only smiled so not to seem rude.

We sat regarding each other.

His twinkling eyes were on me and that was enough to make me annoyed. Being under Albus Dumbledore's stare always put me on edge. I liked to say to him that I was nervous, it had worked during the summer when he had taught me magic, but it was more contempt that I felt than anything else.

"You've been avoiding me." He said.

I didn't want to meet his eyes. He would see the lie and that would make thing worst than they were already. "Catching up to the current curriculum isn't as easy as you think."

"I don't think it is, Miss Nolan."

Silence.

Dumbledore's shoulders rose and fell as he rested himself comfortably in the chair next to my bed. After a bit more of mutual staring, he spoke, pointing to me with his hand. "Now please, tell me what happened."

I sighed. This was a conversation I did not want to have. As much as Dumbledore was on my side, and the only thing that he wanted was to help me, I didn't trust him. Okay, that's not entirely true. I trusted him with most things. He was one of a handful of people that knew every aspect of my situation, and was kind enough to donate their time for my benefit. He was the first person to teach me magic. He was the one that set me on the path I was taking. However, there was something particular of Albus Dumbledore that I could not stand. Maybe it was his authority figure, or that he seemed to be able to read my mind, either way he got me annoyed fast. It didn't help matters that he reminded me of Merlin and vise versa. That was not something I enjoyed. "I was looking up information in the Library and the book I was reading mentioned something else. So I searched for that."

"What was that something you were looking up?"

Shit. I racked my brain for excuses but found the need to just say the truth. I could not get away with a lie. "Animagus," I said. "Before you ask professor, could I please keep the reasons to myself?"

He nodded looking as understanding as he always did. Merlin, I hated that sometimes. "I will not pry into every aspect of what you chose to learn. Animagus is a lesson given in third year of Transfiguration. It is common enough knowledge." Again he waved his hand at me. "Please continue."

"Well, I accidentally started reading the steps into morphing, and I began to do it." I did a pause to look at him. To try to see a reaction, there was none. He looked at me expectant to continue. "But I didn't want to. That's not why I went there for. Then I tried really hard to stop, and I did! I stopped changing." Though I was pleased that I did what I wanted, my face set into a frown. "Everything began to hurt, then. I thought I was dying." I could feel the enduring strands of that pain. "What happened, Professor?"

Dumbledore listened intently to my every word. "It's just as you said, you stopped it. Somehow, you put a halt to your blood knowledge." His eyes pierced right into me in a soft way, and it gave me the urge to get up to run off.

"How could that be possible?" I voiced out, pushing the uncertain feelings away. No use having those kinds of thoughts.

"There's no reason to believe it is not possible. We barely know anything of what Merlin passed down to you. It might be completely probable that you could manage to control what you relearn. Clearly, there are copious amounts of information that we are missing. I still retain the permit for access of the Order of Merlin's Private Collection, and have been researching accordingly, but even I have my limits. And time is an unpardonable master. Forgive me Faraday, for being of little help."

I ignored his sincere apology. There were more pressing confusions in my mind. "And the spell you used? I didn't know it could be used to stop transfiguration."

He shook his head, making the little bell that decorated his beard tie jingle. "Finite Incantatem was not intended to stop your morphing. The spell only counters spells." He said in that wise-old wizard teacher way that he always used to explain things. I was about to ask, when he continued. "My intention and overall result was to stop, if only for a moment, Merlin's spell on your blood."

That sure shocked me. As far as I knew, Merlin was this all powerful being, and no one could match his ingenuity and his power. Apparently, Dumbledore had done it. "You can do that?"

"It was not as easy as just saying the words. It took a toll from both of us. And in that matter, I would like to ask for your forgiveness, once more. I should have assessed the situation better and considered the option that mayhap my plan would not work in our favor."

This apology I did accept with a nod. I wanted to say that he did manage to do something, and that trying to stop my pain was better than doing nothing at all, but I didn't. I rather have that one piece over him, than taken away from me. "Do you think I can transform, sir?"

He smiled as if with it I would infer that the possibilities were not absolutes. And I did infer that. It was not as simple as yes or no. "You would need to try, for us to know."

"I don't want to. I didn't want to in the first place, even less now that all that happened." I said looking away from him. There wasn't much in my hospital room; therefore I ended up just looking at a wall. The idea of being able to change into an animal should be an appealing one. But unless I was sure that my animagus form was true to me and me alone, I would never try to morph again.

The Headmaster seemed to understand and accept that. That was something Dumbledore always did that ticked me off. He accepted all I dished out with the level head of a wise-old wizard.

"When can I go back to school?"

"In three days time."

Obviously, I began to protest.

He raised a hand to silence me. It worked. "The Healers and the Minister both voted for a week; you need plentiful amounts of rest. However, they seemed to have forgotten what sixth year is like in Hogwarts, and how seven days of work can severely influence a term. Therefore, I asked for the time to be reduced. Three days here, and the rest of the week you'll be under Madam Pomfrey's vigilance in school."

I could not argue with that, or hate him for it. He did all he could, and I understood that. And if for a moment I couldn't I would just force-feed myself the fact. I could not do my work if I was dying of exhaustion. "Thank you, Headmaster."

We went through a bit more technical matters after that. Nothing too important. Dumbledore spoke of the Minister and the conversation he had with the Head Healer. He dwelled a bit on the secrecy of my situation and how he wanted me to see him regularly. I had no intention to do that unless forced, but I didn't tell him that. At one point he spoke about the Slytherin portrait and how they had talked a few days ago. True to his words, Merlin had not said anything about my full moon strolls.

When Dumbledore had bid me a 'see you later' and wished for my recovery he lingered by the door. "Faraday, I would advise you to be mindful of the subjects you sit down to research. We don't want this situation to keep repeating itself."

His words alluded to so much more that I found myself staring. I had forgotten completely, that the last time I had been taken from Hogwarts to St. Mungo's I had given him the same excuse of a research session gone wrong. That time had been a lie, but as far as I knew his knowledge on the matter was nonexistent. I was cutting it too close.

"Yes, sir."

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