Chapter 185: Subconscious
The Hogwarts carriages struggled toward the castle through the raging storm.
When the students finally passed through the great oak front doors and felt the warmth of the torches burning throughout the Entrance Hall, many of them let out relieved sighs.
Tamara blended into the crowd of Slytherins, her expression gloomy.
The incident aboard the train had ruined her mood completely.
Right now, all she wanted was to enter the Great Hall, take her rightful place, and use a lavish dinner and the respectful gazes of those around her to wash away the day's humiliation.
"Potter, and Miss Granger, please wait a moment."
Just as the students were filing into the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall's crisp, stern voice cut through the noisy Entrance Hall.
The crowd slowed slightly.
Tamara watched coldly from the side.
Professor McGonagall pushed through the students and headed directly toward the Gryffindor line.
"Miss Granger, please come to my office. We need to discuss your timetable for this term."
Hermione seemed to have expected this.
An unmistakable flash of excitement crossed her tired face, sweeping away even the gloom left by the Dementor as she hurried after Professor McGonagall.
At the same time, another figure descended the Grand Staircase.
It was Madam Pomfrey.
Frowning, the matron quickly scanned the crowd until her eyes settled on Harry.
"Potter! Come here. Let me have a look at you."
Madam Pomfrey pulled Harry away from Ron and carefully examined his pale face and the lingering cold sweat on his forehead.
"Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead saying you encountered a Dementor on the train and fainted. How are you feeling? Any chills? Nausea?"
Harry glanced awkwardly at the students around them who were clearly trying to listen in.
"I'm fine, Madam. Professor Lupin gave me some chocolate..."
"Chocolate was the right thing to give you, but he is hardly a Healer."
Madam Pomfrey muttered sternly as she pressed the back of her hand against Harry's forehead.
"This is utter madness. Dementors stationed around a school. What on earth was Albus thinking?"
She frowned again.
"Lupin also mentioned another girl who was badly affected. Apparently, she collapsed in the corridor. Unfortunately, it was too dark, and she disappeared before he could identify her properly..."
Harry did not even have time to think.
An image immediately flashed through his mind.
Tamara slumped on the freezing floor.
Her pale face completely expressionless while tears silently streamed from her eyes.
"It was Tamara."
The words escaped before Harry could stop them.
"Tamara Riddle. She was outside the compartment opposite mine."
The instant he finished speaking, Harry wanted to bite off his own tongue.
Tamara valued her pride more than her life.
If she discovered that he had exposed one of her most vulnerable moments, she would probably kill him.
More importantly, Harry had already sworn to himself countless times that he would stay far away from that prickly, unreasonable girl.
Yet without thinking, he had blurted out her name.
It was already too late.
"Riddle?!"
Madam Pomfrey's voice rose sharply.
Her eyes swept across the Entrance Hall with frightening efficiency.
At that exact moment, Tamara was only one step away from entering the Great Hall.
"Miss Riddle! Wait there!"
Madam Pomfrey's voice cut through the crowd and struck Tamara squarely in the back.
Tamara froze with one foot almost across the threshold.
Slowly, she turned her head.
Madam Pomfrey was already pushing through the students with remarkable speed, heading straight toward her.
Not far behind the matron, Harry stood with one hand over his mouth, looking thoroughly regretful.
Their eyes met.
If Tamara's gaze had possessed physical form, Harry would already have been sliced into ten thousand perfectly even pieces.
That reckless idiot...
Tamara ground her teeth inwardly.
"I knew it! There was no possible way that fragile constitution of yours could withstand direct exposure to a Dementor!"
Madam Pomfrey gave Tamara no chance to defend herself.
She seized her icy wrist.
"Look at your hand. You're freezing! Come with me to the Hospital Wing."
And so, beneath the curious gazes of the surrounding students, the great Dark Lord was mercilessly dragged away from the entrance to the Great Hall by the school matron, hauled toward the Hospital Wing like a disobedient kitten.
...
Hospital Wing.
Harry and Tamara were forced to sit beside each other on two neighbouring beds.
Unlike Harry, who only had his pulse and pupils checked, Tamara was subjected to a thorough examination.
"I knew it. Unstable magical fluctuations, and your temperature is below normal!"
Madam Pomfrey moved her wand over Tamara while continuing to lecture her.
"Miss Riddle, your constitution was already poor to begin with, and your body has always had difficulty absorbing enough nutrients. Dementors do more than drain happiness. Prolonged exposure leaves the entire body weakened. You simply cannot withstand that sort of strain!"
Tamara sat there without expression.
Her hands gripped the bedsheets tightly as she endured what she considered the ultimate humiliation.
Right now, she wanted nothing more than to strangle the saviour sitting beside her, who had lowered his head and was doing his best to pretend he did not exist.
"Ordinary chocolate works too slowly for someone in your condition."
Madam Pomfrey turned and disappeared into the adjoining dispensary.
Less than a minute later, she returned carrying a steaming mug.
"Drink."
The mug was firmly shoved into Tamara's hands.
An overwhelmingly sweet aroma, mixed with the rich scent of warm milk, immediately assaulted her senses.
It was the Hospital Wing's special hot chocolate.
"I'm not drinking this."
Tamara pushed the mug away in disgust.
"I'm perfectly fine."
"Drink it. Every last drop."
Madam Pomfrey planted her hands on her hips.
Her expression was somehow even sterner than Professor McGonagall's.
"Otherwise, I'll strap you to that bed and make you drink it myself."
Faced with the absolute authority of the Hospital Wing, Tamara drew a deep breath.
Between being forcibly fed and drinking it herself, the Dark Lord humiliatingly chose the latter.
She closed her eyes, held her breath, and lifted the ridiculous mug as though she were drinking poison.
Then she swallowed the sickeningly sweet, warm liquid in several large gulps.
"Very good."
Seeing the mug emptied, Madam Pomfrey nodded with satisfaction.
"You should thank Mr Potter."
She spoke casually while tidying the tray.
"Professor Lupin had no idea who you were. If Potter hadn't kindly identified you, you might have collapsed halfway through the feast tonight."
The moment those words left her mouth, the atmosphere in the Hospital Wing seemed to freeze.
Harry had been staring determinedly at the floor.
Now every hair on his body stood on end.
He desperately wished Madam Pomfrey would stop talking.
Harry slowly turned his head.
Tamara was already looking at him.
Her pale face now carried an unnatural flush from the hot chocolate.
But within those pitch black eyes burned a murderous fury.
If they had not been in the Hospital Wing, and if Madam Pomfrey had not been standing only a few feet away, Harry had no doubt that Tamara would have smashed the mug and used the broken pieces to slit his throat.
"All right. You may both go."
Madam Pomfrey waved them away.
"And if either of you has nightmares tonight, come straight back to me."
Tamara slowly placed the empty mug on the bedside table.
Darkness and violence still churned within her eyes as she stared at Harry past Madam Pomfrey's shoulder.
Yet when she finally spoke, her voice was remarkably calm, carrying even a trace of flawless politeness.
"Understood. Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."