✔️ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎 → ℎ. 𝑝𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦

36 | P R O M I S S E S

you can't wake up,
this is not a dream!             

   EMBER WAS BLASTED from her feet, she was falling, she was hitting the floor, feeling the impact. Feeling. She was feeling. She wasn't dead. Ember Potter wasn't dead. She felt the cold floor against her face, felt bones meeting stone, felt the air being pressed out of her lungs.

   "Emmie, no!"

   There were footsteps, more than just one person was crossing the room. A pair of gruff hands grabbed her shoulders, pulling her around, and Ember, who had expected to be faced with Moody once more, surprised blinked at the pale face and the crooked nose of Severus Snape. Easily he lifted her up, a strange expression on his face, but Ember got quickly distracted by the unexpected twist of the scene in this room.

   Moody was laying on the floor, unconscious, Albus Dumbledore looking down upon his old friend with a look that could kill. Professor McGonagall had lifted Harry in a standing position, his face nothing but a reflection of all the horror he had witnessed tonight. Ember wriggled out of Snape's grip and threw herself into her brother's arms. He wrapped her in a hug, trembling against her fragile body.

   "Was just the recoil", she muttered, not sure if to herself or to calm down Harry. "Just the recoil." Whatever had hit Moody, it had done with such force it had swiped Ember from her feet as well. By looking at Dumbledore's furious old face, she would have bet anything that a simple stunning spell out of the headmaster's wand could have easily caused this. It was like Dumbledore's force was a surrounding him in a pulsing aura, almost touchable.

   "Come", McGonagall whispered, her bottom lip quivering, "come ... hospital wing ..."

   "No", Dumbledore snapped in a sharp tone. "They need to stay. They need to understand who had put them through this and why. Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptable can there be recovery."

·

   The shock running through her veins felt like fire spreading through her body, burning every sensation, every feeling. Professor McGonagall brought Ember to the hospital wing, Harry was still with Dumbledore, even though he did revolt just as much as Ember against being separated for just a second. But Harry was with Dumbledore, he was safe.

   Her moves went mechanical; step by step, blinking, breathing. If what she had just heard out of Barty Crouch jr's mouth had such a devastating effect on her, how did Harry feel, Harry, who had witnessed all of this, who had fought him, who had to watch - ?

   A lump was growing in her throat, but she didn't dare to give in the burning sensation in the corners of her eyes. Professor McGonagall was throwing gaze after gaze at the girl, all the way to the hospital wing, as if she was expecting Ember would break down and cry, curled into a ball of misery. But she didn't. Step by step, blinking, breathing.

   The hospital wing was empty when Ember arrived. Madame Pomfrey led her to an empty bed, and she sunk into the pillows.

   "I will make sure you won't be alone for long." Ember couldn't remember that McGonagall's voice had ever sounded so soft. "I will send Molly up here."

   Ember nodded, not knowing how to use her voice. She couldn't stand the pity in her teacher's eyes. It was just a sign that all this was happening; that it was real. But it couldn't be real. Because Cedric Diggory wasn't dead. He would come to visit her in a couple of minutes, or maybe he had a few scratches himself and Madame Pomfrey would make a fuzz out of it, but it was nothing ... nothing.

   "A draught for dreamless sleep", Madame Pomfrey said, placing a bowl onto the table next to Ember's bed. "Make sure to drink it whole."

   Though it sounded alluring to fall asleep and numbing the pain for a couple of hours, Ember didn't touch the draught. She wouldn't give into this weakness. He'd always been there for her, always had made sure that she was safe. Now he was gone, and Ember wouldn't lay down and pretend that the world didn't exist. She would stand her ground, she would show him that she was strong enough. Giving up would cast a slur on Cedric's memory. He'd taught her better.

   Staring at the ceiling, sunken in her thoughts, Ember hadn't noticed the door had been opened and people entering the hospital wing, until someone softly stroke her black messy hair out of her face. Blinking, she looked up at Mrs. Weasley.

   "Come here", the elder woman whispered, spreading her arms wide, and Ember crept into her hug like a little girl. In the warmths of this embrace, all her intentions seemed to crumble and fall apart, the burning in her eyes became unbearable and hot teardrops welled out of her eyes, running down her cheeks just to get soaked up by Mrs. Weasley's robe. Ashamed, Ember wanted to pull back, but Mrs. Weasley just held her closer, tighter, just like a mother would do.

   "I'm wetting your robe", Ember mumbled against Mrs. Weasley's shoulder, feeling her chest vibrating.

   "I couldn't care less, deary", she said, her hand caressing Ember's hair, swaying softly back and forth.

   The shame she had first felt was slowly drifting off, and Ember burried her face deeper into Mrs. Weasely's pillowy robe, surpressed sobs turning into full bawling, and all the time she was held tight, was rocked in save arms like she never had been before by anyone. And even though Harry had been there for her all her life, it was this, exactly this kind of motherly love Ember had never experienced before — at least not as far as she could remember.

   It took some time for her to calm down, and with that the embarrassment returned, accompanied by the guilt that she hadn't even managed to keep her unspoken promise to Cedric up for at least a full night. Startled, Ember looked up, recognising Ron, Hermione and Bill standing near her bed, looking kinda lost.

   "I'm sorry, I —" Not knowing what she should tell her friends, her voice broke, and if it hadn't been already red and sore from crying, her face would have lightened up in the brightest crimson now.

   Mrs Weasley lifted from the bed, wiping her own eyes and shaking her head. "Take your potion, Emmie", she whispered, handing the girl the bowl. "You need to rest."

   "You will stay?", Ember quietly asked, and as Mrs. Weasley nodded, Ember's eyes flickered to Ron, Hermione and Bill. "You as well?"

   "We won't go anywhere", said Ron, and Ember took a sip of the draught in her hands, immediately drifting into promised dreamless sleep.

—