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REX CLUTCHED THE TEDDY BEAR TO HIS CHEST AS HE SAT IN THE HOSPITAL WING. Madame Pomfrey was busy fussing about, taking care of the other patients and preparing various potions that were running low, whispering so softly to herself that she was barely heard. It made sense, she was still fairly new to the whole operation, it had been her third year when Rex first came to the school, so getting her bearings was still a work in progress.
She cast a glance over to the small boy, giving him a sympathetic smile. "Are you alright, dear?"
He shook his head, burying his face in the brown fur, lying back down and drawing the sheets over himself, turning away from her. Though it had occurred the day before, he had woken up just two hours before, and was still more than a little shaken up.
He shivered to himself, his skin crawling as memories began to flood back, mocking him. The ghostly feeling of his bones contorting and contracting, his vision blurring, his head aching as feelers sprouted. His throat aching as he tried and failed to scream as the library began to expand, growing taller, the sound of shouts and screams echoing in his ears.
He felt bile rise in his throat and desperately fought against his urge to throw up on the side of his hospital bed.
"Do you want anything to drink?" Madame Pomfrey tried, noticing the way the boy was turning slightly green.
He nodded slightly, eyes darting from her to his bed. He avoided looking at her as she fetched him pumpkin juice, despite all he had been expecting. He took the small bottle from her, unable to keep from seeming wary.
"You've just gone through a difficult experience, dear, I don't blame you for being shaken up, especially a Muggle boy like yourself," she said, patting his cheek fondly.
He couldn't help but lean into the touch, remembering his aunts who were waiting for him back home with the rest of his family, all of them crammed into their small flat. It was better that he was away from home most of the year, but after what he had just gone through, he wished they were with him.
"Don't cry, dear, it's alright," Madame Pomfrey whispered, and he shook his head, now unable to fight back the growing lump in his throat and stinging tears that began to trail down his red cheeks.
"Your friends are coming to visit you soon," she said, running her hand once more through his hair before pulling away, needing to tend to her duties; she was a kind woman, fairly young still, but there was only so much comfort one was able to give.
He let out a shaky breath and nodded, moving so he was lying on his side again, teddy bear clutched tight to his chest and blanket drawn close, the pumpkin juice forgotten on the sheets as he cried softly to himself, not wanting to be a bother, but much too upset to hold it in.
Nathaniel and Penelope visited him during their free time. By then, he had thrown up three times and was ordered by Madame Pomfrey to stay one more night as he still seemed to be showing certain side effects, strangely enough.
