Recovery

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I stayed in the hospital for a little over two weeks now, the first of which I barely remember.

I had drifted in an out of long hours of sleep while Madam Pomfrey changed the bandages on my upper chest every so often. She told me that I was lucky to have been brought to the hospital wing when I was, because otherwise, my head injury could have been much more serious.

Fortunately, by the second week, I no longer had dizzy spells and I could think clearly.

It was Tuesday today and I woke up to a stream of sunshine flowing in through the hospital wing's window.

I sat up and propped myself against the head-board, rubbing my eyes and brushing my long hair behind my ears. To my right stood the bed-side table, littered with gifts and flowers from my friends. Some were sent from some thoughtful classmates too.

The day after I arrived in the hospital, the news of my attack reached the whole school. I was forgiven for having gone into the forest since it was for good reason, though McGonagall had a thing or two to say about it; She was astounded by the fact that I had risked my life by going into the woods for the purpose of bringing back a dog that went through those woods for a living.

I felt somewhat foolish, but I knew that if I hadn't gone in after him I would have felt worse about myself.

Hagrid had been standing near her during that conversation, gaping at her and looking scandalized.

Dumbledore was on Hagrid's side of the debate, and to my surprise, even awarded me some house points. McGonagall looked concerned by his actions and rubbed her temples as she walked away, shaking her head.

Later that day, Colin had come to see how I was doing and he told me that he heard McGonagall giving Dumbledore and earful; She had said that it was brave but reckless judgment on my part for entering the woods because dark creatures were proving themselves to be more bold now, marking their allegiance to Voldemort.

I remember Colin looked a little nervous as he delivered this information to me, shifting in his chair at the idea of dark creatures emboldened by the return of he who must not be named. I didn't know what to say because I didn't want to lie and pretend that everything would be alright. Clearly, judging my state, McGonagall was right.

After a moment of silence, he had taken a deep breath and dug his camera out of his bag. "Say cheese!" he had said, snapping the picture before I even had time to do as he said, and blinding me with the flash.

I had given him a look like was that necessary and he shrugged sheepishly. "Might as well document these moments. You might never look this badass again," he said, jokingly.

Then he glanced at my bandages and saw some pink showing through. He looked instantly panicked and stood up from his chair abruptly, knocking it to the ground with a loud thud. He began yelling for Madam Pomfrey, insisting that I needed "urgent attention."

Nothing was wrong with me though, and I'd frantically called his name, trying to get him to sit back down because he was completely overreacting. It was rather cute though, he was such a kind person. Madam Pomfrey changed the bandages just to appease him and he had breathed a sigh of relief. I'd stifled a laugh in order to thank him for his attention to my well-being.

He brought back the developed picture a day later and left it next to my bedside while I slept. I found it next to a little flower.

Most of my stand was covered in flowers actually, and there were a few "get well soon" cards signed by everyone who'd delivered them.

There was one deep-red rose without a name tag attached to it. I knew who it was from though, and I think Harry had a good idea as to whose it was as well. When he thought I wasn't looking, he'd swiped it from the table, cracking its stem between his hands and walked over to toss it in the bin like it was rubbish. I said nothing to him about this, but I was irritated for the rest of the day.

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