Cast yourself (you are the spell)

Chapter 7

She wakes up an hour or two later in an infirmary bed, which isn't completely unfamiliar to her after playing quidditch for the past five years. The first thing she becomes aware of is the ache in her wrist. And her sinuses are burning.

"Fuck," she curses, because her throat feels like someone scrubbed it raw and then poured acid down it. It's probably not the best thing to do since when she opens her eyes Madame Pomfrey greets her. She's dimly aware of Ethan and Sebastian laughing just behind them.

"Well, hello, dear," Pomfrey says, and Hope winces as the pain fully sets in. "Drink this, you'll feel better."

Hope eyes the disgusting looking liquid in the vial she's holding out, before taking it hesitantly. She opens the stopper and nearly throws up at the smell.

"Maybe later," she says, trying to hold back her trademark sneer, and puts it on top of her bedside table.

Pomfrey mutters something about "stubborn Slytherins" before standing up from the chair she was sitting on before. Hope inquires as to what happened, and the matron slowly informs her.

"Most of the damage was done to your wrist since you were wearing gloves. However, we weren't able to magically heal any of it due to the essence of Fanged Geranium poison. Attempting to would-in all probability-propel you into a coma, or even kill you. We were able to administer the antidote fast enough, but the poison will most likely stay in your system for another few days, and we cannot pursue any concrete remedy until then. The plant also managed to tear into the major radial artery of your wrist, and you suffered profound blood loss."

Hope takes the time to finally look at her arm, which is extensively bandaged from her wrist to her palm. Her skin is too sensitive under it, and the magic in her blood is centering entirely in her arm. For the first time, it makes her feel uncomfortable.

"When can I leave?"

"Leave?!" Pomfrey voices in exasperation. "I have half the mind to keep you here for the rest of the week."

"I feel fine," she growls out, already sitting up and trying to be released from the confines of the white sheets.

"Right," Sebastian drawls from behind Pomfrey. "That explains why you're in the hospital wing."

"Shut up, Pyre," she says through clenched teeth, having the sudden instinct to reach for her wand. She finds her book bag in Ethan's grip.

"Make me, Mikaelson," he leans forward too, his eyes alight in glee, but Ethan slaps a hand on his shoulder and pulls him back. Usually, she keeps her wand up her sleeve, but she had elected to put it away for the Herbology lesson.

"Ethan, hand me my wand so I can shove it up his ass-"

"Quiet! Quiet! I will not have childish banter in my hospital wing!" Pomfrey hushes them, and then sends Sebastian away. He sneers and makes a rude gesture behind her back, and then waves goodbye to Hope.

"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey-" She starts, spite in her voice because she knows that Sebastian can still hear them, but the strict matron whirls on her as well.

"And you! You will stay here until I permit you to leave!" Hope sighs, leaning back into her bed in false defeat. She knows she'll get her way sooner or later. "And you will take that draught or so help me Merlin-"

"Poppy, give the girl a break," a lazy voice utters from the door, and the Slytherin looks to see Professor Snape and his robes billowing behind him. Pomfrey stands up again and meets him halfway, and they talk in low, hushed whispers for several minutes.

"What did I miss?" she asks Ethan the second the adults had decided to ignore the both of them.

"Lunch, for starters," he tells her. "Rose and Penelope also visited you, but you were asleep and they had to go to class. Pyre and I have been with you since Sprout levitated your ass from the greenhouse to here."