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↱ in which it's christmas
WAKING UP IN a hospital bed was not Scarlett's ideal way to begin her first Christmas at Hogwarts, but there she was.
The hospital wing was a tall room with beds lined on the walls across from each other. It was also extremely bare. The only sound was the ticking of a clock.
Of course the calmness in her mind didn't last long, thoughts whirring around in her head like a train screeching on train tracks. The clock on the wall didn't help, it's rhythmic ticking only sent her further down a spiral.
Scarlett glanced around warily, springing up from her resting position.
"Merry Christmas."
Her breath hitched in her throat. All her thoughts suddenly stilled.
"What are you doing here?" she puzzled, eyes refusing to meet his.
"I've just come back from Christmas breakfast, I wanted to check on you," Harry's voice started again. She could feel the hole he was burning in the side of her head. He spoke again when she stayed silent, "you didn't miss much."
Scarlett finally gave in, the silence in her mind unnerving for once.
She glanced over at him. He looked exhausted and he had a look in his eye like his mind was far off, like thoughts were clogging his mind. When she officially met his gaze, Harry smiled and his green eyes brightened, which only made her feel like a lost puppy even more.
One thing you'd come to learn about Scarlett, she hated being vulnerable. And as she sat there in that hospital bed, vulnerable, there was only one thing going through her mind.
"I need to leave."
Harry's smile dropped. "Leave to where?"
"What even happened?"
"When I looked over you just looked like you passed out on Zabini's shoulder. They took you here after that."
Scarlett paused, studying Harry's face for a moment, then glanced down. She reached for his wrist, reading the time on his watch.
"That was over twelve hours ago?" she gulped.
"Madam Pomphrey said it was exhaustion."
"Oh," she let out a shaky breath.
Scarlett hated him. She hated how he could talk to her as if she hadn't completely blown up on him a week ago. She hated how he didn't hate her for getting angry at him. That was how it should've gone.
Every time she felt the pit in her stomach, or when she looked through her eyes and all she saw was red; there was a consequence.
You could say her consequence was being put in the most vulnerable position possible.
