Monday
December 1, 1977
Hospital Wing
"Miss Bishop, can you please remove yourself from that bed and head off to your classes?" asked Madam Pomfrey for the third time this morning.
"I mean I would, Madame Pomfrey, but I'm sick," I said. "Cough, cough."
"Enough of that now," Pomfrey replied, shaking down the bed next to me. "You're about as sick as Professor McGonagall is a turtle. That is, to say, not at all. Now, you're obviously upset over something so you can take one of three options. One, talk to me about it, two, take a sip of some of the calming draught I prepared earlier and go on your way, or three, leave and go to your classes. You can't stay here forever, dear."
Oh, Pomfrey. If only I could tell you what was going on in my head. Unfortunately, my heart still hasn't quite recovered from that short little conversation in Muggle Studies last Thursday, and yes, I know it's been four days, but something in me will not move on. It's rather frustrating really.
Later that day after that conversation I sat down with Lily and Lottie and sort of filled them in on what had happened, where we came to the joint conclusion that it would be best to move on, but I'm not doing a very good job of it. It's not quite as simple as just deciding to do something, especially when you don't really want to do it.
That is how I now find myself early on a Monday morning hiding in the hospital wing from life and its ensuing responsibilities and heartbreak.
"Eva," said Pomfrey, sitting on the bed beside me. "Which option are you going to choose?"
"I'll take the calming draught and then leave please, Pomfrey."
"Very well then, dear."
Pomfrey stood up and unlocked the medicine cabinet closest to me and pulled out a small vial of calming draught. "Now, this isn't a very large dosage, because we still want you to be able to concentrate in your classes, but this should be enough that you stop worrying for the day, alright?"
"Alright, Pomfrey," I said, grabbing the vial from her warm, motherly embrace.
Speaking of, I should probably write my own mother.
"I hope I won't see you back here anytime soon," said Pomfrey as she waved me out the door.
Silly Pomfrey. What an absurd expectation!
Monday
December 1, 1977
Gryffindor Girls Dormitory
"You know what, Eva?" said Lily, pacing at the foot of my bed. "You need to just stop focusing on it. You've got far more important things to worry about than some stupid boy who's too blind to realise what's right in front of him! Think about Quidditch, for starters. Two days ago Ravenclaw completely annihilated Hufflepuff because Richard Smothers finally joined the team and they haven't had a better chaser in years, so how are you gonna get around that? What about your NEWTs? I know you haven't finished your Divination assignment. Lets not forget about your tutoring either. How's Mark doing? Oh, and don't think that I'll let you forget about helping plan the Christmas Ball either. You're still a prefect. There. Plenty of other things to think about."
"But Remus-"
"Did you not listen to a single thing I just said, Eva?" asked Lily, throwing her hands into the air.
"Well, yes, but he just looked so sick today in class and I want to know if he's feeling alright and I can't just not focus on it because I need to write about it in my diary, so."
YOU ARE READING
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Fanfiction[WARNING: Book is not suitable for reading in quiet areas, as the emotions resulted from reading usually end in squealing and/or excessive giggling.] Eva Bishop is just trying to live her life as best as she can in her seventh year at Hogwarts Scho...
