Chloe Cullen 4 - A Harry Potter and Twilight Crossover

Chapter 11: The Unknown

From the moment I get back home, mom insists that I don't leave my room unless I absolutely have to. It's not completely miserable though. Because I'm in my room all the time, that means my mom is with me in my room most of the time. She waits on me hand and foot - which is really nice. She does my hair all the time and my makeup, and she even lets me do her hair, which is a privilege she doesn't let anyone else have. I also have uninterrupted time to do homework with the added bonus of being thousands of miles away from the Slytherins. Dumbledore was able to give me special permission from the ministry for me to be able to practice magic at my house as long as I don't leave the confines of it. That means that whenever I'm not spending extra time with my mom, I'm doing schoolwork. The way it works is this: the teachers send me a copy of the lesson plan with the instructions, and a due date range for the homework. For some classes, like charms and transfiguration, I have to send back an extra report of how the practical tries went.

Grandpa monitors my health on a daily basis, and I also have cell checks every other day. Since I'm so far away from my friends, I'm not sending as many letters as I would like. It takes a few days for the owls to get here, a few more for them to rest up for the journey back, and then another few days to go back to England. That means it takes about 2 weeks to send and receive one letter. So, since it takes so long to send letters, we try to make the letters we are able to send as long as we can. A few weeks after I arrive back home, Hermione sends me a copy of the Daily Prophet. The entire front page is a picture of Harry with no pictures of the other champions. The article, however, is hilarious. It's not true at all - it's Harry's life story that has huge lies in it - but still entertaining.

I suppose I get my strength from my parents. I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now... Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it... I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, because they're watching over me...

I laugh so hard that my dad wonders what's up, and when I show him the article, he laughs to. Farther down, there's an interview with Colin Creevey. This one is an even bigger lie than the last one.

Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school.

For a while, things are okay. Other than a few minor temperature spikes, nothing. Then, on November 24th - the day of the first task - something new happens. I'm playing chess with uncle Jasper while waiting for mom to finish making breakfast - homemade chicken noodle soup. "Check Mate," Uncle Jasper says. I growl. I'm competitive, just like my dad. I don't like losing. "Chloe, Nessie," my mom calls. Not loudly, just clearly (Bella and Edward want Renesmee to eat more human food to blend in). I start to get up when I get a really good whiff of the soup. Before I have time to process the nauseating smell, I gag. Automatically, every single pair of eyes in the house is on me. I gag again and, without thinking about it, I sprint as fast as I can to the bathroom, exactly as I had done on the first day of school.

I take longer in the bathroom, this time. It's about thirty minutes before I feel comfortable coming out. Even though my mom is exactly like me when it comes to gross things, she wouldn't have it when I told her to wait outside. She sits faithfully by my side, holding my hair and rubbing my back for me. "You don't have to stay here, you know," I tell her groggily ten minutes later. I'm about to say something more when I throw up again. "Yes I do. I'm your mother and I'm very worried about you." I'm actually very thankful that she's here. Embarrassed, but thankful.

As a favor to grandpa in the past, she's gotten a few medical degrees, so she goes right into doctor mode with a fair sprinkle of mom tossed in. She ransacks grandpa's medical supplies for a few seconds until she finds the numerous things that she's looking for. She draws more blood from me and swabs my cheeks again and instructs Edward - who also has medical degrees - to conduct another cell check. While he's doing that, she hooks me up to ivs. She also takes my temperature, and then scowls at whatever the thermometer reads. "How are you feeling honey?" she asks. I think about it. "Hot. Tired. Nauseated." I say. Mom seems to take these notes to heart. At vampire speed, she rushes out of the room and comes back with several ice packs. I expect her to place them on my head, but she doesn't. She places them at my feet. "Scooch," she instructs. Knowing what she's going to do, I scoot over and she climbs in to my bed next to me. In this moment, I don't feel like a fifteen year old girl anymore. I feel like a little kid again. She's trying to make me feel better and - because her skin is better than any ice pack - it actually works. She strategically places her hand on my forehead, her other hand on my stomach, and one of her legs over both of mine so I have even cooling throughout my entire body. After that, it doesn't take me long to drift off into an uneasy sleep.

Edward and Carlisle take shifts taking care of me, while my mom refuses to leave my side. As the days wear on, I barely get any better, and my dad starts to be in the same boat as my mom. He doesn't leave my side unless he absolutely has to - he only has to to go hunting, in which he brings some blood back for mom. When doing a cell check, grandpa performs an extra test on my blood, and it turns out I've got a form of meningitis, but I don't care enough to ask which form. I'm too tired and weak.

I'm constantly nauseous now, and that means I have to be hooked up to a feeding tube and given hydration through an iv. Through another needle, I'm given some type of medicine. At first, it starts to work a little bit. I get a little bit of my energy back, and I'm able to hold a whole coherent conversation with my mom. That is short lived though. As the weeks go by, I slowly start to get worse and worse and my days start to get less and less interesting. I mostly sleep or I just lay in bed doing nothing. I simply don't have the energy to do homework or respond to my friends letters. I'm not even upset about missing the Yule Ball. Despite my mother's protests to the contrary, no amount of makeup can bring any illusion of life or energy to my face.

I don't really feel like me anymore. Time has seemed to have lost all meaning. It reminds me of when my mom was still pregnant with me. I didn't know the time of day or what was happening around me. I don't know what day it is or what time it is, and I never know if I pass the time by sleeping or by just laying on my bed. What I do know is that mom refuses to leave my bedside for anything, now. Even to change her clothes or do her hair. She's constantly hugging me and refusing to let go. I don't mind though. Dad is also by my side to. I have never seen him this upset. He doesn't leave for anything either. I don't have it in me to be worried about why one day after a cell check my entire family (apart from Bella and Nessie) all congregate in my room. The last words I hear before I go to sleep are "virtually gone."