Heart of Stone: HPHM Year 6

Visitor

When Sarah's eyes blinked open, she thought for a moment she was still in the forbidden forest, looking up into the dazzling blue eyes of Firenze. But, as she shrugged out of the hospital bed covers, her eyes adjusted. It was not Firenze standing over her, but the wizard in front of her still made her stomach turn nervously. 

"Professor Dumbledore."

"Good morning, Miss Spellman." Dumbledore smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she croaked. Her voice broke in her sleepiness. It took her a moment to remember why she was in the hospital wing at all. She'd gone to Madam Pomfrey for headache potion...Madam Pomfrey had insisted she was chronically stressed and given her a calming draft...everything else was foggy. "What are you doing here, Sir?"

"Well, when two of Hogwarts's, uh, most frequent rule-breakers are in the hospital wing at the same time," he glanced back at Barnaby, who snored softly into his pillow, his bed sheets a tangled mess, "it is prudent for the headmaster to investigate the cause."

"We weren't together. I've no idea what Barnaby's doing here. Is he alright?"

Dumbledore held up his hands. "Relax. Dear Madam Pomfrey will throw me out if you stress yourself too much. Barnaby is fine, though I admit he had a nasty scrape. He was attacked by grindylows while he was swimming in the lake."

Sarah gasped, leaning around Dumbledore to get a better view of Barnaby. He was twitching in his sleep as if he were being bothered by a fly, but nothing appeared to be wrong with him. 

"He surely would have been killed, if not for our friendly giant squid. I can't but feel a bit smug after all the letters I've received from parents demanding it be exterminated." He smiled again, and Sarah let herself relax a bit, settling back against the pillows. "No, in fact, it is your health I would like to discuss at the moment. Madam Pomfrey suspects your illness is a consequence of extreme stress and lack of nourishment. I do hope you're remembering to eat your meals and get enough sleep?"

"I eat," she began, though her stomach growled unhelpfully at that exact moment. She supposed she had been skipping a dinner now and then. And sleep hadn't really come to her since the new curse began. 

Dumbledore nodded. "When I am particularly invested in a project, I too can forget to take care of myself. I remember how feverishly I searched for that last use of dragon's blood. 'The Eleven Uses of Dragon's Blood' just doesn't have the same ring to it, don't you agree? Anyway, my friend, Elphias, begged me to take a break, to rest, but I refused until I became so incensed, I believed him to be a dragon. Attacked him in the middle of my workshop, nearly destroyed the place. Thankfully, in my weakened state, I passed out before I could do Elphias any real harm. And, upon waking, I discovered the last use of Dragon's blood--stain remover. So, in that case, I suppose everything ended well." 

"Okay," said Sarah, not sure what message she was meant to take from that story. 

Dumbledore peered over his half-moon spectacles at her. "Have you perhaps been focusing too much on a certain task?"

Ah. Here they were. The headmaster wanted to know about her curse-breaking. She met his twinkling eyes, and knew there was little point in lying, but she couldn't tell the truth either. 

"I'd hoped things would be easier than last year," she admitted. "But this year seems to have started off rough...for everyone."

Dumbledore sat back on one of the wooden chairs meant for visitors. 

"Indeed. The events of our past can haunt us to the point where we cannot function in the present." For a moment, the twinkle in his eyes dimmed, and it seemed to Sarah that Dumbledore was seeing quite a different scene than the quite hospital wing. "We must take time to rest, to heal, in order to move on and tackle the next obstacle."