I. social casualty | blaise zabini ✔️

HOSPITAL ROOM

CHAPTER 39

HOSPITAL ROOM

Lyra had been in many hospital rooms other than the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. She remembered a time when she had broken her arm after falling from Midnight and her dad had taken her to a muggle hospital. She had been in a weird cast for a few days before they went to St. Mungos and had it healed quicker.

Then she remembered twisting her ankle while in her broomstick the summer after 2nd year, her dad again took her to a muggle hospital and she was in a gauze for three weeks with instructions to avoid moving. She failed when she walked down the stairs without her crutches and her dad took her to St. Mungos again.

What she remembered most about those muggle hospitals was that they always had walls of greenish-grey that made her head hurt. The fluorescent lights made her eyes itch. And the smell of sterile air made her dizzy.

At St. Mongos, hospital rooms were similar. The walls were still an ugly color that made her head pound. The curtains were hideous, painted in ugly purples and greens that were faded to an almost white. The healers dressed in lime green made her eyes burn but they were always very sweet to her.

It wasn't very different now when Lyra woke up in St. Mungos. In fact, she was probably the only thing that had changed since her last visit, three years ago.

She was in a different hospital room, her injuries nowhere near the same as to a broken or sprained bone. But the room was similar to the ones before: pale green curtains, off white walls, bright green healers.

When she first woke up she was too groggy to react. The second time she had begun to panic and tried jumping out of the bed. But a healer pulled her back down while someone else, she assumed her dad, was talking from somewhere else in the room. They needed to knock her out again to steady her.

The third time was better. Lyra woke up to silence, looking around she could see Hermione's bushy hair and Ginny's red. On her other side were Neville and Luna, Neville was the only one awake.

"Hey." He said softly, wincing when Luna moved in her sleep.

"Hi." She responded in a whisper, giving a small smile, it made her head ache a bit.

"How are you feeling?"

Lyra shrugged and it brought another ache to her neck. "Like I shouldn't play quidditch next year."

The joke landed flat when Neville only managed a short chuckle.

"How are you?"

"I'm ok. Everything hurts and I probably won't walk normally for a few weeks but... I think I'm ok."

Lyra nodded, "Yeah. I feel the same."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, why?"

Neville shrugged, "You met your mom... We all met your mom... I wouldn't be ok if I were in your position."

Lyra looked down at her lap, she played with the hospital band on her wrist. Her vision blurred.

"And... you lost someone. That, from what I saw, meant a lot to you. I doubt you feel ok. So, how are you?"

She felt the teardrops fall to her wrists, eyes still blurred. "I... I don't know what I'm supposed to feel. I feel so much that I can barely breath, like my emotions are clawing at my throat."

"That makes sense."

Lyra looked up at him, breath hitching from her crying. "W-What?"

He shrugged again, "It makes sense that you don't know how you feel."