Isn't He Lovely-Professor Snape

Year 6 Pt 5

The throbbing pain in my head intensified, becoming an unbearable crescendo. A wave of frustration and discomfort washed over me. Unable to endure it any longer, I groaned, my distress echoing in the peculiar confines of the hospital wing.

As my eyes fluttered open, I was greeted by the enchanting brilliance of the room. The magical aura within the hospital wing manifested in a display of soft, ethereal light that bathed the space in an otherworldly glow. To my left is an arcane beauty of potions, shimmering with hues of blue and gold, neatly arranged in delicate glass vials on a night stand.

Groaning persisted as I determinedly pushed through the disorientation, my gaze gradually adjusting to the luminous surroundings. The blurred contours of the room gradually yielded to clarity, revealing the intricate design of the hospital wing. The beautiful windows and tall ceiling fascinate me.

With a measured effort, I opened my eyes fully, absorbing the details of my cubicle. The sight of magical potions, gently emitting a soothing radiance, offered a stark contrast to the sterile environment of a typical hospital. The room seemed to breathe with an ethereal energy, and as the groans subsided, I found myself immersed in the surreal beauty of the enchanted space that surrounded me.

My gaze shifted downward, and I discovered a snug wrap encircling my chest, evidence of the recent trauma. Bruises adorned my stomach like an abstract canvas, each mark telling a story of impact and resilience. My right hand throbbed persistently, though outwardly, it displayed only subtle signs of bruising.

Beneath the comforting veil of a white blanket, my legs lay dormant. My focus shifted to my right leg, a victim of some unseen force, now cocooned in a gentle embrace of bandages. The lingering ache resonated with each heartbeat, an echo of the ordeal it had endured.

Surveying my surroundings, I attempted to decipher the passage of time. The ambient light hinted at the midday sun, perhaps marking the onset of lunch. Questions fluttered in my mind – How long had I been in this state? How had Professor Snape intervened to save me?

With cautious movements, my left hand ventured to my face, exploring the contours as if mapping the aftermath of an unseen battle. The right side responded with a symphony of pain, a silent testimony to the invisible struggle that had unfolded. My fingertips traced the terrain, predicting bruised landscapes but finding solace in the absence of cuts.

Curiosity gripped me – Where had the blood flowed? What unseen wounds had prompted Professor Snape's intervention, saving me from the brink?

"Merlins beard you're awake Niamh!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed. "How are you feeling?"

"I-I am in s-so much pa-pain" I can barely speak. "Ho-how long was I-I out for"

"Four days deary"

A dizzying whirlpool engulfed my head, threatening to plunge me into unconsciousness. The perceptive gaze of Madam Pomfrey caught the subtle signs of my impending collapse. Swiftly, she produced a vial, offering me a restorative elixir just in the nick of time.

As the soothing liquid cascaded down my throat, an immediate wave of relief surged through me. Gratitude welled up, and I managed to express my thanks to Madam Pomfrey, who wore an expression of professional concern.

However, the transient respite was accompanied by an overwhelming fatigue. The combination of physical strain and the healing properties of the potion ushered me into the embrace of sleep. As my eyelids succumbed to the weight of weariness, I surrendered to the peaceful solace that enveloped me, trusting Madam Pomfrey's care to guide me through the realm of restorative slumber.

       𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

As I stirred from my slumber, the warm hues of a setting sun painted the room in a tranquil glow. Surprisingly, a newfound vigor coursed through me, dispelling the remnants of weariness that had once held sway.

Madam Pomfrey, with a gentle smile, informed me of anticipated visitors. A flutter of nervous excitement danced within me as I pondered the possible guests. A secret hope whispered Professor Snape's name, adding a touch of anticipation to the moment. However, when the door creaked open and Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered, my heart, though momentarily disappointed, swelled with gratitude at the sight of familiar faces.

"NIAMH!" They all exclaimed

"Hi guys! I missed you so much!l" I gave them all a side hug. Before they came I asked Madam Pomfrey for a baggy sweater, I felt a little embarrassed that I was only wearing a wrap to cover my chest.

"We missed you too, you will not believe what you missed" Hermione recalled.

"Awe why do I always miss the interesting things!" I joked "wait before you tell me, I just wanted you guys to know that I heard you guys when you came in, and told me to get better. It meant the world to me" I started to tear up, and they did as well.

"We love you Niamh, you like family to us" Harry sniffled. I grabbed his hand with my good hand, taking it all in. I was so happy to see them, I didn't realize how much I missed them.

"What happened to me?" The words tumbled out, propelled by a mix of confusion and curiosity. Their exchanged glances spoke volumes, faces drained of color, hinting at a tale they weren't willing to share. Madam Pomfrey, sensing the brewing revelation, shot them a warning look, urging silence.

"I'm so sorry, but Niamh needs her rest. You guys also have to go eat dinner," Madam Pomfrey interjected, her words a shield against the impending disclosure.

A creeping unease settled in, and I pressed for answers, "Wait, why won't you tell me?" Anxiety tinged my voice as I grappled with the fear that this was more than a simple accident.

"I'm sorry, dear. You will soon enough. Please, drink this," Madam Pomfrey coaxed, pouring a mysterious liquid down my throat. A protest lingered on my lips, but before I could voice it, my eyelids succumbed to a leaden weight. As the liquid took effect, darkness descended, and I slipped into unconsciousness, leaving the enigma of my own ordeal unresolved.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼

"She has the right to know and you know that Poppy!"

"Yes but she just woke from a coma! It might be too much to handle!"

"Albus!"

My eyelids fluttered open, and in the dimly lit room, I found myself surrounded by Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey.

"What's going on?" I queried, my voice laced with confusion.

A solemn exchange of glances passed among them before Professor McGonagall stepped forward. She took a seat beside me, holding my hand, her eyes betraying the weight of the words she was about to share.

"Oh, my sweet child, I am so sorry that you are going through this," she began, her voice cracking with emotion. A subtle nod from Dumbledore encouraged her to continue. "During your Quidditch match a couple of days ago, two students—Henry Smith and Harry Wandell—attacked you. They cast a spell on you to make cuts appear all over your body, and they... they, oh, I can't finish." She gasped and choked on tears, her grief echoing through the room.

The revelation hit me like a tidal wave, memories surging back— the game, the wind, the boys. The hair-pulling, the fatal drop. My face drained of color, and though tears welled in my eyes, I couldn't bring myself to cry.

"I-I remember," I whispered, uncertain if they heard me, but my expression betrayed the haunting recollection.

A sudden wave of intense heat gripped me, transforming the seemingly innocent blanket into a constricting inferno. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, tracing a path down my face, and the once bearable room morphed into an oppressive furnace.

"I-I'm so hot, take the blanket off," I gasped, my words strangled in my constricted throat. Each syllable felt like a struggle for breath. "H-hottt." The scalding sensation intensified, and tears flowed uncontrollably down my face, a mixture of discomfort and overwhelming emotion.

In response to my distress, Madam Pomfrey hurriedly summoned a cooling spell, strategically placing ice behind my neck. Despite her swift efforts, the relief was elusive. The sensation of suffocation tightened its grip, and dizziness overcame me, pushing me towards the precipice of unconsciousness. The encroaching darkness swallowed the world whole as I succumbed to its embrace, my awareness slipping away.