Come Next Morning

A tingling sensation meets the pain as snow covers me. Keeping my wand clutched in my hand, I use it to claw my way out of the pile of snow. I'm going to feel that come next morning. I try to let out a groin as I use my right arm to push myself up. As I push on the tree, shocks of pain radiate along my right arm.

Or now, I think as I sit down. Visually inspect the area, making sure the contents of my bag haven't scattered. It Doesn't look that bad. I lie to myself as I look at my right arm. One of the branches managed to go through the cloak, sweater, shirt, and slash along my arm; missing my wrist but digging up to my shoulder. The rest of me didn't fare too well either, with bruises and cuts littering my body.

I holster my wand and get to my feet, for adrenaline continues to push the pain down. Three versions of reality start to form as a fog hazes my thoughts. Touching my head, blood sticks to my fingers as the gash on my head makes itself known.

No! You're not dying today! Not from a stupid theory! Rustling through my bag, my wandering hand latches onto Professor Babbling's balm box. Better than nothing. Ten-pound weights begin to hang from my eyelids as I unscrew the box. The rattling pain of the impact still vibrates through my head as I apply the glittering purple cream.

Head clearing, the base of adrenaline begins to die down. Like a concert crowd, every cut, bruise, and scrap join together in a deafening roar as they scream for an encore. Even worse is the massive gash as it gives in to the crowd, pumping out trash rock so loud the front row's ears will be ringing for weeks.

Being a rock veteran, my head stays level as I scoop much of the gunk. Heat burns the volume up to eleven as the gunk coats the chasm of a cut. Tearing off strips of my pants, I use them and my right sleeves to bandage the wound. Thankful of all of Zach's medical lectures, A grunt of pain tries to escape as I tie the field dressing tight.

The next spell I learn is a healing one. I force my mind elsewhere and continue to apply the gunk onto the rest of my wounds. She must have added a little normal healing into it, considering a modified Wound-cleaning Potion wouldn't accelerate healing.

I hope to Merlin this was worth it! Using the tree to get up, I touch the Whomping Willow with my good arm and concentrate on its Mana. Unlike before, the Mana didn't leave the confines of its bark. In fact, its Mana doesn't feel nearly as great. Searching through the flow of Mana, the reason for the change reveals itself.

Coming from the core, the Mana flows in two directions, out and down. One half flows out and clings onto the bark; acting as a layer of protection. A magical way to keep itself warm? I'd have to come back in the spring to test that.

Leaving that dangerous thought, I move to follow the other half as it gets sucked down and gathered into the knot. Acting as a parasite, the knot uses that Mana and pushes it into the bark. Unlike the other Mana, this changed Mana weaves its way into the bark; forcing the tree into a docile.

My mouth sags as I peel off a large piece of old bark and stash it in my bag. Pain turns my attention to my right arm as blood starts to soak through the battle dressing. This isn't going to work, I don't have the tools nor the knowledge to fix this wound. My mind immediately turns to the Hospital wing only to be rejected.

It's too far, I wouldn't make it in time. Plus they'll ask me how it happened. And once they see all the other injures from the bullies they'll ask about those. Shaking away the self-punishment, my mind searches for other options as I climb out of the snow crater.

Getting back onto the even snow, the smoke rising behind the hills hands me a solution; Hagrid's. Glancing back at the Whomping Willow, I use its sad situation to distract from both the pain and the cold.

It's not like I'm an idiot. I know there needs to be some way to stop it from moving so you can retrieve things from its branches or so it doesn't injury anyone. It's not the knot that's sad, it's how the knot works. It uses a method of transfiguration to force the bark into a ridged state. This means that when the knot is touched, you effectively paralyze it. Without warning, it's no longer able to do the one thing that its species is known for. I'll have to look for a better way to pacify it.

I continue to ponder random topics as I follow along the Forbidden Forest. Pain acts as a ball and chain as a strange silence emanates from the dark gathering of trees. Something dangerous must be hunting tonight. The once pleasant chill of the wind now punches into me much more than before. The breeze may numb some of the pain but its bite brings more.

Gloves and mask equipped once again, the orange glow of Hagrid's Hut becomes visible as I make it to the crest of the hill. The snow seemed to just about bury the small building. Sitting in a valley with trees at its back and hills at its front, the hut, and all its coziness, gave home to one great half Giant.

Smoke billowed out of the chimney as orange light shined out its windows. Sliding down the slope, the possibility of the door being inaccessible begins to dawn on me. Having approached from the side, I round the house to find a divot hollowed out of the snow leading to the door.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I again remember that my knocks don't make any sound. Grabbing the nob, my eyes narrow at its unlocked state. Filled with the heat of pain and the chill of the cold, I don't question it as I hastily enter the hut. Heat way stronger than the fast-approaching spring enveloped me as I entered the home.

"Catlyn? Whatt're you doin' here?" The Hogwarts groundskeeper asks, defensively, from his seat at the fireplace. The sparkle in his eye and grin on his face quickly fades as he notices my right arm.

Taking a seat on his couch, the absence of my right makes writing difficult, 'Can you patch me up?'

Hagrid just sits there for a moment as it takes a moment for him to process. A flash of realization hits him as he scrambles up from the floor. The hut shakes as he frantically searches around, grabbing supplies as he goes. The couch lanches me slightly as he takes a seat next to me, arms filled with potions and bandages. A chuckle tries to escape as I take a short trip in the air.

"What happened to ya?" Hagrid asks as he pushes a potion into my hands. His voice is so loud and filled with concern that it wakes Fang up from his nap in the corner. Silence meets Fang's panting and the crackle of the fire as I contemplate. Should I tell him? He is patching me up but how in trouble will I be in? I should have just waited!

"Never mind. Ya don' havta tell if you don feel like it," Hagrid says, reading me perfectly, as he unwraps my field dressing and I drink the potion.

'I'll tell you,' And so, I told him. I told him about the bullies, about Halloween, about the nightmares, about how the spell on the Whomping Willow is probably hurting it, about… about everything. Like a crack in a dam, all the little confessions turned into bigger ones and by the time I was done, the dam was empty.

"Taken on the Whompen Willow," Hagrid chuckled as he continued to apply more medicine to the gash. Pain wanted to leap out and whall as I used my left to pet Fang.

'I know! The Troll incident was one thing but this was…' I don't finish my note as my eyes wander to the fireplace. Propped up in the middle of the flame sat a massive egg the color of Onyx. The heat, Hagrid's guilty look as I came in, the unlocked door… don't tell me.

'You got a dragon egg!' At my words, he accidentally pulls too hard on my wrapping. Hagrid's eyes dart from me to the egg as sweat beads down his forehead.

"This isn' what it looks like!" In defense, Hagrid puts himself between me and the egg.

'It looks like you're illegally raising a dragon! Hagrid you have got to get rid of it!' Why would he do this? Why would he put up with the existence of something that will probably kill them all?

"I- I-" His words hold no powerful resistance but at this point, my insecurities have already taken hold.

'Why do you care so much that I'm hurt! Am I just one of those evil pets you like keeping around?'

"No. You an' that dragon arn't evil," At my words, Hagrid's resolve seems to have strengthened.

'Yes, I am! I'm a fourth your size and could lift a bookshelf. I'm a F u cking parasite!' tears stain the page as I mentally slash at myself.

"Am I then?" At Hagrid's words, his half-breed nature pops into my head.

'I didn't mean-' I start to write my apology as Hagrid starts again; taking a seat next to me.

"I'm not, an neither are you. What we are is strong. When my wand was snapped, Dumbledore offered me a chance. He believed that I was a good person despite my other half. You may have to drink blood, but you fight that need every day. You, me, and that egg," his voice feels clearer than it ever has as he points to the egg, "aren't evil. Evil is a choice. Your life isn't wrong or a bad thing. Your actions are who you are. Lich and Voldemort aren't evil because it's who they are. They're evil for the lives they've destroyed, of the people they've hurt, for the years of abuse she put you through, and for their choices."

DADA flashes into my mind, 'but today we learned-'

"And? Are you going to let some book tell you who you are?"

Just hearing the ridiculousness of it broke every lingering thought of that lesson as I wiped away tears.

Shaking my head, Hagrid brought his massive hand down to pat my head, "Now, ya best be goin', Ya hav' classes."

Chuckling, I managed to get up from the couch, 'I'm surprised you said You-know-whose-name.'

At my words, Hagrid's eyes went wide, "Ya lost more blood than I thought. Careful to not lose more, vampir' blood is a powerful thing."

Wait, it can't be that simple. can it? 'Must have. Say, is vampire blood a part of any potion recipes?'

"Non' I know. You wan' some help back?" Hagrid asks, concerned at my comment.

'No, it's fine. This will hold me off until I get back,' I write, taking the emergency blood and downing it.

"Ok, hav a good night!" Hagrid calls as I wave goodbye, shutting his door.

Bracing against the cold, I manage to make it up the hill, through the castle, and all the way to the Hospital wing. The faint orange sky begins to shine as I collapse onto a cot.