Armilla

Chapter Six

The following week, all Snape-related thoughts completely vanished from my mind and were replaced instead with nothing but worry. Dumbledore met me one morning as I was making my way to the Great Hall for breakfast. His eyes had lost their usual twinkle and he seemed very tired. No wonder - all that work with the Order, running a school and putting up with Umbridge would probably drive anybody over the edge.

"Come join me for a cup of tea in my office, Miss Kemp," he said kindly.

"Er...okay sir," I said, not being able to keep away the anxiety in my voice. As far as I knew, Dumbledore never invited anyone to his office simply for the sake of it. Something must have happened. As we reached the gargoyle, so many thoughts were running in my mind as to what Dumbledore had to say.

"Cockroach clusters," said Dumbledore.

The gargoyle sprang to life and soon we were on a revolving staircase. As we were going up, my insides suddenly felt as if they were being squeezed really tightly. Snape. Had he told Dumbledore? What if Dumbledore was going to question me about Snape? Oh no. How could I explain a strange warm feeling from a brief connection with Snape to Dumbledore of all people? He was going to think I was insane.

"Here we are," said Dumbledore, as he opened the door to his office. As we stepped inside, I was silently thankful that I hadn't had any breakfast yet because I could guarantee that it would have ended up on the floor by now. Damn weak stomach.

Dumbledore gestured to a chair in front of his desk and I sat down nervously as he began to pour the tea.

"Miss Kemp...Armilla," he said as he handed me a cup. "I have something to discuss with you." Oh God, here it comes...

"Now, you know that I am always here to talk to you about anything -" he paused, setting his piercing blue eyes on my dark brown ones.

I nodded slowly. Maybe Snape had told him I was some sort of lunatic who had no control over my own magic and had tried to use it against him when he was trying to help me. But I couldn't help it. And he was the one who had voluntarily reached out to touch it. I never dangled it in front of him saying "Look what I've got sir!" Anger started to boil inside me. How dare Snape tell Dumbledore about it? If Snape was meant to be such a smart wizard then why did he not explain what had happened to me?

Dumbledore was still looking at me carefully. "Armilla, I have received information about something very serious, and you need to understand what we are going to do."

Aha! So Snape had told him! That's it. Before Dumbledore started warning me about using my magic in weird ways against a fellow Order member of his, I was going to put my case across. Suddenly I was on my feet.

"Sir, it was not my fault!" I said earnestly. "I can't explain what happened because I don't understand it. I never asked Snape to touch my bracelet! I had never felt that feeling before and believe me it was unintentional. Snape refused to tell me anything about it and I am sure he knows more about it than I do!"

As I finished my little (well, slightly hysterical) speech I sat down hard in my seat again and studied the cup of tea that was still in my hand. Finally, as if Dumbledore was silently willing me to, I looked up and met his gaze. His expression was unreadable and he seemed to be studying me intently. Finally, he spoke.

"This is an issue that I am very interested in, especially in regard to Professor Snape," he said.

Oh great, I was really interested too, but who cares? Snape sure didn't.

"But that is not the issue I called you in here to discuss," Dumbledore continued.

Huh?...Oh dear God...If I had just spilled the beans on something Dumbledore had no idea about I was going to pack my bags and go and live with the Squid and never come back.

"What other issue is there?" I asked, trying to keep my face indifferent.

"Merle," said Dumbledore simply. "She has had a stroke, Armilla."

Now my insides felt like they had been ripped apart completely.

"A...a mild stroke?" I asked, my voice quavering slightly.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "No. She had the stroke in the very early hours of this morning and was taken to St Mungo's. The healers there have done everything they can for her, but it has not been enough."

Dumbledore came around the desk, sat in a chair next to me, and took my hand. "She is not expected to live past tonight, Armilla. I am very sorry."

We sat for a few moments while the news sank in.

Die. Merle was going to...die. She couldn't. She just couldn't.

I loved her too much to let her go. It never seemed to occur to you that someone you loved that much and needed so much could ever just go away and leave you alone.

I tried to stop my eyes filling with tears. It was bad enough that the hand that Dumbledore was holding was shaking. I did not want to cry in front of Dumbledore.

Dumbledore seemed to read my thoughts and started talking again. "I imagine that you would want to see her?" he said softly.

I looked at him and just nodded. I couldn't speak.

He got up and went back to his desk. He picked up a silver ring and handed it to me.

"This is a special sort of port-key," he said. "It cannot be activated just by touching it. You must put it on your finger, and turn it around your finger to the left once, and then turn it back. It will take you to the hallway outside Merle's room. When you want to come back, you perform the same action and you will reappear here inside my office. I understand that you may be gone for several days so I will speak with all your teachers about missed classes. I will inform Miss Turpin and Mr Boot for you, and I will have Miss Turpin send along anything you may need."

I simply nodded, my thoughts elsewhere. Dumbledore came to my side and squeezed my shoulder. "My thoughts are with you, Armilla. Remember that I am always here."

"Thankyou, sir," I whispered. I activated the port-key and felt a tugging just behind my navel and I was gone from Dumbledore's office.

* * * * * *

When I reappeared in an unfamiliar corridor, I had to grab onto the arm of a chair to stop myself falling. Once I steadied myself, I went over to the nearest doorway, where the door stood slightly ajar. I peered in and tried to muffle a gasp. There was Merle, completely white, laying in a bed by the window. Her friend and carer, Matilda, was sitting by her side with Merle's hand in hers. In her other hand, she held a handkerchief that she was mopping her eyes with.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Upon noticing my presence, Matilda jumped up and came over to embrace me. It was only then that I really started to cry. Seeing Merle like that made everything Dumbledore had said seem so real. I didn't truly believe what had happened until I saw Merle myself.

"She has been unconscious since she had the stroke," Matilda whispered in my ear as I turned to look at Merle. I went over to the bed and kissed her.

"The healers say she doesn't feel any pain," Matilda continued, obviously relieved to have someone to sit with her.

I nodded, continuing to look at Merle. She did look peaceful, as if she was just asleep, though her breaths seemed to come at a slow pace. "How long does she have?" I whispered.

"The healers came in twenty minutes ago and said she has a couple of hours at the most. At least she will suffer no longer," said Matilda, trying to console herself.

We sat there for a long time, not speaking, just watching her. Healers came by every now and then, and when they weren't there, the room was so quiet. A few times we thought we had lost her, and then we heard a breath again.

An hour and a half had gone by when suddenly Merle gave a last gasp for air...and then nothing. Matilda shook in her seat, sobs racking her body. I continued to hold Merle's hand, silently watching her.

She was gone.