CHRYSALIS - FRED WEASLEY

CHAPTER 11

January 10th, 1996

"Ms. Wenlock," Madame Pomfrey says, "Charlie's been asking for you. He's just in here, if you'd like to see him." Lillie nods and mutters a thank you, craning her neck and looking into the wing. There's one bed occupied, but a sheet is drawn around it protectively. They walk in, Lillie closely trailing Madame Pomfrey.

"What happened?" Lillie asks. She's concerned, obviously, but she's not stressed. She figures if it were grave, she'd know.

Madame Pomfrey hesitates, "I think it would be better if he told you himself." Lillie doesn't respond, mulling over the answer. "I gave him a calming draught a few hours ago. It should be wearing off pretty soon, so if he seems agitated come get me."

Lillie frowns. What could've happened that would have made him need sedation? Madame Pomfrey gently parts the curtains when they approach the bed. Charlie is sitting, staring straight ahead. In the striped hospital pyjamas, he reminds Lillie of a small child. He normally takes so much space, spreading his long limbs with a cool self-assuredness that borders on arrogance. Now, he looks shrunken. His normally strong shoulders cave, giving his frame a delicate, birdlike appearance. His strong cheekbones suddenly look gaunt. Lillie is struck by his appearance, and it takes her a second to find her words.

"Charlie," Madame Pomfrey says kindly, "Lillienne is here, like you asked." He turns, his expression unchanging but his eyes lighting slightly. Madame Pomfrey steps aside, allowing Lillie to enter the makeshift room. "I'll be in my office, if you need anything."

Lillie steps towards his bed hesitantly, unsure of how to approach. She leans her hip on the side of the bed awkwardly. He's staring at her with wide, fixed eyes, drinking her in. She grabs his hand; it feels like the right thing to do, but the gesture feels forced.

"What happened?" she says, concern laced in her tone. Charlie takes a deep, ragged breath, the type that you take after you've stopped crying. He opens his mouth to speak and closes it, gaping like a fish, unable to find the words. His eyes well with tears that he wipes away furiously with the back of his hand. Lillie's heart breaks.

"Oh my god," she says, "What happened?" she squeezes his hand tightly, trying to give him the strength. He coughs and clears his throat, trying to get rid of the thickness that renders him mute. He tries again, but instead of words a mangled sob escapes his dry, worried lips.

Lillie leans forward, pulling him to her in a hug. At first, he simply lets it happen, sniffling dejectedly. After a moment, however, he brings his arms up, wrapping them around her. Lillie feels hot tears hitting her exposed shoulder as he grips her, his back heaving with silent sobs.

"I'm so," he hiccups, "scared."

Lillie shushes him comfortingly, kissing the side of his head. He cries for a few minutes more, spilling out jumbled, broken parts of a story that Lillie cannot piece together. Something about You-Know-Who, and a prank.

"Don't leave me," he says into her neck. Lillie cringes. She nods her head.

"You're," he sniffles, "You're the only one who..." he trails off.

"I know," Lillie says. And she does know; she's the only one who he can talk to about whatever is scaring him so badly.

Madame Pomfrey bustles in at that time, a bottle in her hand.

"Alright, Charlie, dear," she says, "Looks like it's time for another calming draught. Is that alright?" He pulls his head from where it was resting on Lillie's shoulder. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are swollen. Tears still run freely down his cheeks, and he wipes them.

"I don't want to sleep," he says gruffly.

"Not a problem," she replies, "We'll just calm you down." He nods, taking the potion she offers with a shaking hand and knocking it back like a shot. It takes effect immediately. His breaths turn slow and deep, rid of the shallow gasping. He stops crying and his eyes droop; he's tired but not sleepy. Madame Pomfrey bustles out again, shutting the curtain.