Grey Eyes (A Harry Potter Fanfiction)

23. Visiting Hours

It aches.

Everything just hurts. Bloody hell, what happened to me? I slowly open my eyes, eyes that feel like lead curtains reluctant to move a millimeter, to an almost blinding light. Geez, why would I leave the curtains open before I go to sleep? Stupid move, really.

Deciding that closing the curtains are obviously more important to me than the fact that it felt like a hippogriff was pecking at my skull, I push myself out of my bed with difficulty and make my way across the room.

My bed?

I spin around.

No, not my bed.

I spin around again.

Not my room either. Where am I?

In all my spinning, my eyes catch the image in a full-length mirror to my right and I walk slowly towards it, enraptured by the reflection. Standing right before the mirror, I blink slowly. Then I tentatively clench and unclench my right hand. I take one step back. Then a step forward again until my hand touches the cool glass entirely.

I blink again.

“Who is that?”

“What are you doing? Let me in!”

“Calm down, Master Black. I warn you that entering this room would be most unadvisable right now.”

I shut my eyes tightly before opening them again. Who on earth is yelling? Why can't people just give me some peace and quiet for a second? Wait, how did I end up back in bed…? Okay, evidently, not the point here, since people are still shouting outside my door. I say this in the most polite manner I can muster: please shut up.

“Doctor Platus, you better get out of the way right now before I punch you in the—”

“Master Black, you need to understand the situation here!”

“No, let me tell you the situation! Last week, I pulled her out of that water freezing as hell and… look, you said she’d survive. Now you’re telling me I can’t even see her? What is there to understand? You’re being a complete arse about this!”

“Master Black, I understand that you are very distressed, but I strongly advise against seeing the young miss in her current state. It could be highly detrimental to her health.”

“What, why?”

“Not only is she recovering from a near-fatal case neurogenic shock, but… well, seeing her wouldn’t do you any good either, I’ll just leave it at that, Master Black.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“She doesn’t… Master Black, I must ask you to forgive me, truly. I originally believe that her condition was due to head and neck trauma from falling almost twenty meters head-first into the water and I was monitoring her recovery over this past week. However, I am now certain that her amnesia must be augmented by some severe psychological trau—”

“Amnesia?”

“You must understand that she is mentally unstable at this time. We don’t know what could possibly trigger a response.”

“The hell with that—”

“Master Black, you cannot go in there!”

“Let me go, old man!”

“She doesn’t remember you!”

“Miss Vance?”

The sudden voice at my bedside startles me and I look behind me for the mystery person the maid was referring to, but there’s no one else in the room. I look at the housemaid, puzzled. “I’m sorry, what?”