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CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
deer in the headlights
HER STAY IN the hospital wing was quite blurry—shifting from one sleep to the next as the pain in her abdomen lessened with each day. By the fourth day, a Tuesday, Betty's pain had nearly left, becoming a distant memory that she'd prefer to forget. As she sat up in bed, she felt the change ripple through her and saw how tired the stones that were cluttered on the roof of the hospital wing were in comparison to how comforting they'd felt in the low lamp light of the past few nights. The cream had turned stark white in the new sunlight. It was an almost sickening shade as she sat up in the morning. She swung her legs over the left edge of the bed and wobbled a little as she stood up—having nearly forgotten how to walk. She braced herself against the arm of the chair next to her and fully stood up. Her arms stretched up as she turned her neck, hearing her bones groan as they came back to life. The murderous alcoholic smell came back to her, but she pushed down the churning in her stomach, walked forward and pushed the sheet to the side. She watched as Madame Pomfrey bent over a sniffling third year, steaming soup on a floating tray next to her. She watched as the matron pushed the hair out of his eyes and tutted at his carelessness, all with a kind smile on her face. Betty's eyes flicked over her experienced hands, the steam from the soup and the miserable smile that pushed up the boy's red nose.
As she stood, Madame Pomfrey caught Betty's figure and let out a breath as her smile grew. "You're up, Ms. Lupin!"
Betty nodded as she clasped her hands in front of her body. "Yes, ma'am, I feel so much better."
"Good, good." Madame Pomfrey quickly finished up with the boy and made her way over to Betty. "You look much better. The color has returned to your face and you can stand without it hurting, I presume . . . " she raised an eyebrow, making Betty smile and nod " . . . good, so you should be ready to go. I will have you excused from all classes, but one of your choice, tomorrow and I would like you to come see me that night to see how you fared. How does that sound?"
"Marvelous, ma'am. Thank you for all of your care." Betty smiled kindly as she turned and gathered her things.
"Of course, dear. Let me grab a box for all of the flowers and cards and such." The matron disappeared in a flash, making Betty turn towards all of her gifts. She could tell that all of the flowers were enchanted, as they hadn't started to wilt. As she folded the cards and placed them in neat piles on her bed, her eyes were drawn to the card with watercolour violets once more. Her fingers plied it open and the same message was scrawled in the familiar handwriting: "Hope you feel better. And don't rush it. Take care of yourself" signed in his quick cursive: "James".
