As she sat up slightly further in the bed, Penny’s face showed the shock at finding out how many people had been lost. Some of the names were vaguely familiar but Michaels’… She’d known him from years in the same common room and the responsibilities as Prefect and then finally Head Girl. Just a few days they had spoken and she’d told him about the sale and….
Was this her fault somehow? Was she to blame for announcing the sale at the store and tempting people to come in and spend their money? If she had kept quiet was there a possibility that Michael would still be alive, Dominic could go home to his family and Hermione and Ginny wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed somewhere? The raw slide of guilt chewed at her insides and Penny ducked her head from her oldest friend to try and hide the emotions playing on her features.
She was broken from her reverie by the cool slide of ice against her lips and the bustle of a Healer in the familiar St. Mungo’s robes as she stepped into the room and was prodded with a wand. Some of the words passed over her head but she grasped onto the notion that with the right pain potions she could go home tomorrow afternoon: on the proviso that she ate and kept down her meals and slept properly. Sleeping felt like all she’d been doing for the past few days and yet tiredness tugged at her limbs.
“Meg,” she said as the healer finished writing up her chart and left the room to the two friends “I’m so glad you’re here.” Her voice was hoarse with emotion and lack of use but she was so, so grateful that she hadn’t woken alone in the room and she wanted the Hufflepuff to know that. “Thankyou.”