Confessions
Pauline was confined to the Hospital Wing for all of Saturday. At times, she felt better, and she was impatient to rejoin her friends downstairs. Other times, her side ached, and all she felt like doing was sleep. A succession of Healers took care of her in shifts. Some vigilantly kept away visitors. Others were more permissive, allowing visitors for short stretches.
The most indulgent of the Healers was Lara’s cousin, Tatiana. When Tatiana saw Philip poke his head in the door that evening after dinner, she beckoned him. “Come in. I remember you from last night. The boyfriend. You’re just what she needs right now.”
Pauline’s curtains were partly drawn. The head of her bed was raised so that it was more like a recliner chair. On a table were two big bouquets of flowers.
“Flowers already?” asked Philip.
“Yes!” said Pauline, happily. “They came right before dinner. The one with the red ribbon is from the Gryffindors and the other one is from the Ravenclaws. Alma and Larry brought me the Gryffindor one. Larry was really choked up. It was sweet! And look at the card! They got everyone to sign it.”
There was a card by the other bouquet, too. Philip took both cards and brought them to Pauline. “Sit down with me,” she said.
“There isn’t a chair.”
“Silly! I meant, sit next to me on the bed.”
Philip looked nervously at the gap in the curtain and decided to pull it closed. “Hopefully, this won’t make the Healer mad at me.”
“No, this was her idea. Tatiana is totally chill. She said that we should draw the curtains and get cozy.”
Philip felt nervous and flustered, but he sat down on the bed and opened the Gryffindors’ card. It was full of well wishes. Some had just signed their name, while others left long messages. Shona’s note was full of hearts, flowers and butterflies. She apologized for not being as good an artist as her sister, but she wanted some happy things to make Pauline feel better.
“Isn’t she sweet?” said Pauline, once Philip had read the note. “I wish I had a sister. I just have two older brothers.”
“I wish I had one, too. Well, I have Stacy. She’s been my surrogate sister long before we came to Hogwarts.”
“Look at the other card now. Sadie and Calliope brought me the vase and the card. Can you believe it? Those two hate each other! But they collaborated long enough to get me the flowers and have everyone sign the card. Sadie said once she knew what Alma and them were up to, she had to get on board. And Cal was only too happy to chip in and get everyone else to, too.”
Pauline nestled next to Philip, coaxing him to put his arm around her. “The girls always said, ‘Hark is your boy, Pauline. He loves you. He’ll work hard for your family and be loyal to you.’ But you were so shy! I kept asking, ‘When is he gonna make his move?’”
“I made it just in the nick of time, hopefully.”
“Yes, you did.” She put her head on his chest. “My side still hurts. Sometimes, I get really sad. I try not to think about it. I try to pretend that I’m going to be fine. That this is just a cold or something. I’ll bounce back just like Roycester did.”
Philip kissed the top of her head. “I hope that you do bounce back, that you’re fine, but it won’t make a difference. I’m here for you no matter what.”
She gazed at him warily. “But you don’t know what he really did to me.”
“I know enough,” said Philip. “I’m staying with you.”
She set her head back down on his chest. “There was this other boy …” Philip tensed, girding himself for a story about Ellsworth or some other rival. “… last night. I remember his voice. And, I saw him this morning when I woke up. He was looking at me.”
“Oh! That was Took. He’s taking Healing Arts, and he assisted Lara delivering your first aid.”
“Ben Took? The boy from the menage a quatre? The girls love him so.”
“Yes. He stayed late with us last night, almost as late as Lara and I stayed.”
“My parents are coming tomorrow.”
“I heard.”
“McGonagall has it all worked out with Ministry. It’s going to be quite the operation, but they have a plan to get it done.” She lifted her head and gazed into his eyes. “You can’t run away. I need you to meet my parents. Shake my dad’s hand. Make a good impression.”
He kissed her tenderly. “I will.”
They lay together talking, cuddling and kissing. Hours slipped away from them. Pauline fell asleep with her head on Philip’s chest. Tatiana opened the curtain to check on them and saw Pauline was sleeping. She checked her vitals. “Everything looks good,” said Tatiana. “Having you here really helps her. Stay as long as you like!”
Philip stayed until the end of Tatiana’s shift. Just before midnight, she sent him back to his common room.
The next morning, before she was even fully awake, Pauline was aware of Philip’s absence. She missed his warmth and his sturdy presence. Her side ached, and she felt blue.
There was a new Healer watching over her, a woman in her forties with dark brown hair. As soon as she was awake, the Healer whisked Pauline off to take a shower. She thought perhaps she would be allowed to rejoin her friends, but instead of school clothes, the Healer set out a flannel nightgown and fresh panties for her.
“I have to stay?” asked Pauline.
“Yes,” said the Healer. “While you were up, we changed your sheets. Breakfast will be along shortly.”
As she was waiting, she heard a voice in the hallway. “I was a first responder, the night of the incident. I’d like to check on my patient.”
“A brief visit, young man,” said the Healer.
Benedict Took peeked shyly through the gap in the curtains. “Hello,” he said. “I wanted to make sure that you’re alright.”
“I’m fine, thank you,” answered Pauline. “Are you bringing me breakfast?”
“No, I think some House Elves are attending to that,” said Ben. “Um, can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Of course!”
He stepped within the curtain but kept a distance between himself and the bed. His eyes could find no safe place to settle - not on her soft pink lips, not on the freckles of her nose, and certainly not on those striking, piercing green eyes. He finally settled on her hand, resting at her side at the edge of the bed.
Nervous, he rambled. “I was helping, you see, as best as I could. You know, being a Fourth Year, it’s only my second year of Healing Arts, so I knew a few things. I kept you warm while Lara did the heavy lifting. Not that she literally lifted you up, of course, but she did the big magic that got that curse out of you, while I stood by and did little helpful things. And when it was time to get you up to the Hospital Wing, Hark and I did that. And, I had him kiss you again, because he thought it would help and then we were here and we put you in the bed.”
Here he paused and pulled in a deep breath. “And then Lara and I got you out of your clothes and into one of those gowns. Lara did that, too, but I was there, casting spells to keep you warm. And, anyway, I looked. I know it isn’t very professional of me, but . . ..” Here, he lifted his eyes to see how she was taking it. Her lips were pursed close together, but she looked like she was trying not to laugh. “. . . you’re just too beautiful.”
“Aww, thank you. What did you see?”
“A lot. Most everything.”
“In my experience, boys always look.”
“Well, I was trying to be a professional, but I wasn’t succeeding.”
“You’re also, what? Fourteen? Would it make you feel better if I told you that I’ve swum nude on a beach in the South of France?”
The thought of this made Benedict blush deeply. “Yes, I guess that helps.”
“You were helping save my life. You earned your peep.”
“Thank you,” he said.
At that moment, the House Elves arrived with a tray of food and drink for Pauline’s breakfast. There was a plate of eggs and bacon, another of buttered toast, a jar of marmalade, plus glasses of milk, orange juice and water to drink. “Here you go, Miss!” they cried, cheerfully.
“Thank you!” she said. With a wave, the elves left. “Have you eaten?” she asked Ben.
“No. I’d better go.”
“Your girlfriends must be worried about you.”
“Yes, they are very worried by my sudden interest in you. But I know you’re Hark’s girl. Just give me a dance on your wedding day and I’ll be fine forever.”
She laughed. “You don’t need to wait that long.” She preened her neck and offered him her cheek. He gave her a quick kiss and then scurried from the room.
A half hour later, as the students downstairs were finishing breakfast, Gillian Roycester confronted Morwena Felwich inside the girl’s bathroom. “Felwich! You need to keep away from my boyfriend.”
“Roycester, I don’t have the patience for this conversation at the moment.” Morwena made to push past Gillian, but Gillian pushed her backwards.
“You’ve been hitting on him and giving him presents. Friday night was the last straw. I’ve had enough.”
“You only know that because you invaded his mind,” said Morwena. “Liam would not have betrayed my confidence.”
“Your confidence? He’s my boyfriend!”
The two girls were face to face. Though Gillian was an inch taller, Morwena was undaunted. “You want to look into someone’s mind, Roycester? Look into mine!” Morwena grabbed Gillian’s hands by the wrist.
Gillian was lean and athletic, but this was not a test of physical strength. The two girls strove silently against one another, but Morwena quickly had the mastery. She drove Gillian down to her knees.
Rhiannon was the first to intervene. “Wen, that’s enough.” Morwena released her grip on Gillian. She and Rhiannon swept from the room.
Sadie and Alma rushed to Gillian’s side. There were pink half-moon marks on Gillian’s wrists from Morwena’s fingernails. Gillian rubbed her forehead. Alma helped her to her feet. “Oh, my head,” said Gillian.
“What did she do to you?” asked Alma.
“I don’t know.”
Gillian was shaky on her feet. Alma said to Sadie, “Help me get her out of here.”
They led her out to the Entrance Hall, drawing a crowd of concerned friends, including Liam. “What happened?” he asked.
“Jill tangled with Morwena in the bathroom, and Morwena got the better of her,” said Alma.
“Now I have a splitting headache,” said Jill.
Among the onlookers was Belladonna Took. Liam caught her eye and said, “Go get your brother.” She nodded and hurried off.
Liam put his arm around Gillian. Immediately, he felt a rush of emotions – joy, lust, sorrow, longing – over and over in quick succession. He looked to Alma’s face and saw a look of bewilderment.
“What is all this?” asked Alma.
“They are emotions,” said Sadie. “They’re radiating off Jill. It’s like a psychic eruption.”
Just as Sadie spoke, a vivid image took shape in each of their minds, an intimate scene between Liam and Morwena, their bodies entwined. “That did not happen,” said Liam, sharply.
“Then how is it in my head?” asked Gillian.
The scene shifted, and this time, the boy with Morwena was Cyrus Kane. Then, it shifted again, back to Liam. “These aren’t memories,” said Sadie, decisively. “They’re fantasies.”
“Something Umberto said once,” Sadie continued. “Nobody turns a strength into a weakness, or a weakness to a strength, like Morwena Felwich. She took Gillian’s strength, her telepathic powers, and used them to attack her. And she took what she would think of as a weakness, her fondness for Liam, and made it a weapon.”
“She told you this?” asked Liam, skeptically.
“It’s more of a hunch,” said Sadie.
“No, I’ve seen this, too,” said Alma. “It’s the way she looks at you when you’re not looking at her. She’s had a crush on you for a while now.”
Benedict Took arrived. “Can I help you?” he asked.
“Jill has a headache,” said Liam.
“It’s really bad,” said Gillian.
Benedict nodded. He drew his wand and cast a pain-relief spell on her. “You have some marks on your arm, there,” he said. “Hold out your hand.” Gillian complied, and Benedict conjured a dollop of thick white lotion onto her palm. “Rub it on the marks. It will relieve the pain as well as keep the skin from scarring.”
Gillian rubbed the lotion on her wrists. “If the pain persists, you should see Madam Pomphrey,” said Benedict. “Or at the very least, Lara.”
“Thank you, Took,” said Liam.
“You’re welcome.”
At around the same time in the morning as Benedict was checking on Pauline, two Aurors showed up at the door of the Dennison’s estate. Mrs. Dennison was still in her robe, and so, stayed off the main floor. Mr. Dennison, on the other hand, was dressed and already in his study, reviewing his financial records.
The two Aurors were tall and grim. One had a full head of black wiry hair, while the other was completely bald. The bald one, the elder and more senior in rank, introduced himself. “Good morning, Mr. Dennison. We have a warrant from Ministry. We are here to inspect your book collection.”
Roger Dennison was irritated, but he kept a polite demeanor, having learned from many past experiences with Aurors that outrage and indignation only prolongs and deepens the inquiry. “Of course, come right in.” He led them into the foyer and down the hall to his study. “As you will see, the Ministry-approved security plan is in place and fully functional.”
“Very good, Mr. Dennison, although we will be the judge of that.”
He showed them the bookcase and demonstrated the charms that were set upon it. “That is quite an impressive collection of Dark Magic books there, Mr. Dennison,” said the senior Auror. “These measures are regularly in force, is that correct?”
“Absolutely.”
“There was no extended time in which they had been deactivated, so that people other than yourself …”
“Your son, for example,” interjected the other Auror.
“… might peruse the books in your collection?”
“I am present at every moment in which the security around the case is deactivated. Otherwise, it is in place. My son has had no access to these books. Neither has anyone else.”
“Very good, Mr. Dennison. According to our records, you have a copy of Wicked Vengeance in your collection.”
“Yes, though it’s easy to overlook it. You can see it right there, the thin leather book between those two larger volumes. As unobtrusive as it looks, it’s actually the most valuable piece in the collection. The only blemish is that little crack in the spine, which was there when I acquired it.”
“And how did you acquire such a book as that, Mr. Dennison?”
“At an estate sale,” answered Roger, letting some frost cover his words. He felt this was overly intrusive, not related to the overall inquiry. Yet, it was a simple enough question to answer, and he was striving to be polite.
“Very good, Mr. Dennison. If I may please examine the book in question.”
Here, he pushed back ever so slightly. “Is this part of your investigation?”
“It’s right here in the warrant, Mr. Dennison. I need to see the book.”
With deliberate care, Roger Dennison undid the security measures around the bookcase. He gave a gentle tug on the pull, and the glass door swung open. Reaching into the case, he gently removed the thin leather-bound book from its spot.
“This is no reprint,” said Roger. “The illustrations inside are hand drawn by Christian Dethlake himself.” He opened the cover with a flourish, but no frontispiece was there to greet him. There were no text or illustrations at all. Every page was blank.
The senior Auror, with a light of triumph in his eyes, snatched the blank book out the hands of stunned, bewildered Roger. “Thank you, Mr. Dennison. We have what we came for. Oh, I would be remiss if I failed to give you this in return.”
He motioned to his associate, who placed a sheet of parchment on Roger’s desk. “That is a citation for Mishandling of Registered Dark Magic artifacts. We had it prepared in advance, you see. As it turns out, there is a book, much like you described, already in Auror custody. It is likely that the book in question is yours. The fee, if you don’t wish to dispute the charges, is 500 galleons. It’s all there in the fine print at the bottom of the citation.
“Good day, Mr. Dennison. We will see ourselves out. Give our warmest greetings to the missus.”