Aymee Parker B2 - The Cursed Mark

Chapter 40 : Who's fault is it?

Pomfrey immediately gave her some ambrosia to nibble on. Aymee quickly recognized the taste of the cookies-sandwiches-chocolate-marshmallow she used to make with her father over campfires.

However, Aymee did not let herself be distracted.

"What did you say?"

"Lie down now," Pomfrey told her softly.

"No! I want to know what he said."

Aymee pushed Pomfrey away as best she could and tried to get out of bed. She barely started the movement when a sharp pain pierced her right ankle. Aymee gritted her teeth and let herself fall on the pillow.

"You see?" Pomfrey told her as she pulled up the blanket. "You must not move. It's painful to regrow bone from the marrow."

Aymee glanced at her ankle, which was as well wrapped as a Christmas present. She grunted in spite of herself.

"I want to at least sit down."

Pomfrey sighed, but complied anyway at her patient's request. Once settled, Aymee agreed to nibble on another piece of ambrosia.

"Was I passed out for a long time?"

"Two or three hours," McMahon informed her as he approached her bed.

"You said you erased Annelise's memory?"

Pomfrey also shot the teacher a questioning look. The latter did not flinch.

"You know as well as I do, Parker. The truth is too heavy for mortals. Better they forget."

"But that won't cure her!" Pomfrey interjected. "Poor thing won't even know why she lost her mind!"

"Calm down, Pompom." The headmaster tried to intervene.

"No Albus! I'm sorry, but he should have taken her to me directly! She's done for, now! What are we going to tell her parents, mmh?"

"That she was an overly curious young witch who was victim of her own fate," McMahon said without batting an eyelid. "Confusion or forgetfulness, the choice is yours. Anyway, we shouldn't be talking about this now."

"Pardon?" the nurse got offended. "Miss Chevalier—"

"Won't get any worse," McMahon cut her off. "And all this administrative blabla can be done later. What interests me is to know what could have gone through your head?"

McMahon's small dark eyes rested on Aymee. She blinked.

"What?"

"By the Gods!" exclaimed the teacher. "How could you keep this a secret? A student stalks you for almost two years and you don't say anything? We have already discussed this, Aymee!"

Aymee's breath hitched. She could feel the adults' stares dissecting her. Aymee clutched her sheets between her fingers.

"She... I..."

"What?" insisted the teacher. "I already told you to come see me if you had this kind of problem, and that you can't do everything alone! I would have erased her memory before she broke her mind entirely and we wouldn't be there. Look what state she's in now!"

He finished the whole thing with an almost theatrical gesture to designate Annelise, who was lying down in an opposite bed. Aymee felt a lump burn her throat and her eyes itched.

"But she had no proof or anything," Aymee tried to defend herself. "She would have just finished her studies and we would never have met again..."

"Di Immortales!" almost roared McMahon, as he massaged his temples. He then pointed at her accusingly. "Honestly, Aymee! I thought you were more thoughtful than that! It was far too risky as a manoeuvre!"