White Heather for Protection

The Prophecy

It was the smell of Antiseptic Charms that filtered into her mind first. Next was the comfortable, but unfamiliar, feel of the bed she was lying in. Slowly, she started to notice other things. Like the pounding headache centred just behind her eyes.

Oww, how had she missed that?

Distantly, she heard herself groan. The lighting was immediately dimmed, and it was only then that she realised how bright it had been before. She felt a hand curled around hers and a muffled voice saying...something.

Frustrated, she forced her tired eyes to open. Her mind was annoyingly blank and the headache wasn't helping things. She didn't know who they were, or what they'd done, but when she found out who got her into this sorry mess...

The first thing she saw was a field of green.

"Step back a little Mr Potter. I know you're worried, but I need to examine her."

The green retreated. She blinked sluggishly, trying to clear her vision. After a few tries, her eyes thankfully decided to work again. Standing by her bedside was Madam Pomfrey. Huh, that was twice now, this year. She wrinkled her nose at the tingling of a diagnostic charm.

"How are you feeling Heather?" the kindly matron asked.

"Like-" she croaked. A glass of water was placed in her hands. She looked to the side to see her brother standing there, worrying his bottom lip. She patted his arm reassuringly. After downing the whole glass of blessedly cool water, she repeated, "Like I duelled with dozens of fully-grown wizards after going through a magically-draining ritual that depleted half my magic."

Madam Pomfrey gave her an odd look. "I'm not even going to ask."

Heather gave her a cheeky grin.

The Mediwitch clucked disapprovingly. "Anyway, your magic is depleted and you had quite a bit of blood loss, so no heavy spellcasting or exercise for a week. Also, make sure to hydrate yourself and eat well, especially red meats. I gave you a dose of Blood Replenisher, but it doesn't hurt to stock up on iron."

Blood loss? Right, that Cutting Curse she forgot about. No wonder she'd felt so faint. "Yes, ma'am," Heather said obediently. "Is everyone else alright?"

"Just some injuries, but nothing that a few weeks' rest won't take care of." Madam Pomfrey finished her examination. "Well, you'll be fine to leave at the end of the day. I want to check on you again before dinner. Don't you dare leave before I discharge you, young lady, or I'll strap you to the bed myself!"

She then went back to her office, muttering under her breath about reckless fools who didn't take care of themselves.

Finally, it was just Heather and her brother left. And the other occupants of the infirmary, but the curtains surrounding the bed had inbuilt privacy wards for the patients. So it was effectively just the two of them.

Heather watched as her brother shifted restlessly on the spot, looking at anywhere but her. She sighed.

"Hadrian."

His gaze shot up to hers in clear surprise before the nervousness returned. "Heather."

This was ridiculous. With determination, she reached out to pull him closer. And, ow, now she could feel that bloody gash on her flank. Well, it was worth it to finally have her brother in her arms after so long.

Hadrian sank into her tinier frame, clinging like it was the last time he'd be able to. His shoulders began to shake just as muffled gasps made their way to her ears. Was Hadrian crying?