Soldiers of Sorcery
By Keara
Part Fifteen
“Fuck!” Duo
exclaimed, the moment he noticed that Quatre’s eyes had gone unfocused. Only
seconds later, the blonde had collapsed, hitting his head on the wooden table in
front of him before landing on the stone floor of the dungeon classroom.
Duo jumped from his seat, ignoring Professor’s Snape’s voice telling him to
sit down. He had to help Quatre. Quatre was his friend and he had been a witness
to the blonde’s frail health a couple times before. He knew the signs...recognized this as an empathic overload of sorts. It was obvious that Quatre had
sensed something much too strong for him to take, probably from Snape. The
presence of the Slytherins in the room probably hadn’t helped any either.
Still, Duo wondered why it had affected Quatre so badly. Quatre was by no means
weak. And he had many years of experience in dealing with mental blocks and
pushing unwanted emotions from his mind. He should be okay despite whatever he
had sensed. Perhaps this was what he had been hiding from them all week. Maybe
something was wrong with his abilities. That would explain his apparent illness,
would explain the paleness of his skin and how tired he had gotten over this
past week.
Duo took note of the head injury, the blood that was steadily flowing from a
gash on Quatre’s forehead. He pried open one of Quatre’s eyes, frowning
deeply when he took notice of the condition of the pupil. Most likely, Quatre
had a concussion.
Quatre’s body suddenly began to shiver violently. Duo looked over, seeing that
Snape was approaching. “You stay back.” Duo said, fully aware that this
course of action would probably result in him losing hundreds of points for
Gryffindor. But right now Quatre was more important that the house cup.
Snape glared, but he did take a step back, his dark eyes watching Quatre’s
reaction to his minor retreat. Duo turned back to Quatre, sighing in relief as
he watched the shivers slow and then cease. Snape wasn’t close enough to
injure him with his negative feelings. That was a good thing at least.
“What’s wrong with him?” Snape asked, his tone making it sound more like a
demand for an answer than a request.
“He’s an empath.” Duo replied. “Apparently he sensed something
unpleasant from you.”
“Doesn’t he know how to use blocks?” Snape asked, a genuine hint of
surprise in his voice.
“He’s been ill this past week. None of us are really sure why.” Heero
stated. “He won’t talk about it.”
With a sharp muttered phrase, Snape rushed forward, sweeping Quatre into his
arms and ignoring Duo’s protests. Duo watched as Quatre’s body began
shuddering. “You’re hurting him.” Duo said worriedly.
“Believe me, he will be better off if I get him to the Hospital Wing now. If
you say that he’s been sick for a week, it is probably because he’s lost
control over his own abilities. They will kill him if he doesn’t receive
treatment.” Snape hissed back. Before leaving the class, he dished out an
assignment. “Read the first five chapters in your books and write a three-page
essay on one of the ingredients mentioned within. Class dismissed.” A moment
later, he had swept out of the classroom, leaving Duo to worry over the health
of his young friend.
Professor Snape rushed along the corridor, moving with haste to the Hospital
Wing. This was his own fault and he knew it. His student was an empath, and now
unconscious due to an inability to block emotions...he should have noticed
the symptoms himself, but he hadn’t been paying attention.
The pale blonde he carried was shivering, the tremors in his body worsening with
each passing moment. It was the contact with Snape’s body that was causing
this, something that Snape could not help even if he wanted to. The blonde was
open now, all of his walls down and Snape’s mind was an open book to him. He
only hoped that this experience would not permanently scar the child.
“Good heavens! What happened?” Professor McGonagall’s voice called out,
just a moment before the transfiguration instructor stepped out of her
classroom. Snape knew that she was without a class at this hour, her next class
wouldn’t arrive for a while.
“The boy is an empath...his blocks seem to have collapsed.” Snape
responded, adjusting his hold on the boy as he briskly walked.
McGonagall stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “And YOU are the one
carrying him?” She asked incredulously. “What on Earth are you thinking?
Give him here!” She held out her arms.
Snape shook his head. There was no time for this. Already the boy had gone into
convulsions, his small body becoming increasingly difficult to hold onto.
“I’m the faster of the two of us, and I can get him to Madam Pomfrey sooner.
Now move!” He demanded, pushing his way past McGonagall and continuing on his
way.
He knew that she was following him, but said nothing. His only concern was for
his student at the moment. By his own fault he had caused this. And he would do
what he could to help him if he was able to.
He barged into the Hospital Wing, quickly striding over to the first empty bed
he saw and set the young man down on it. Madam Pomfrey ran out of her office,
gasping as she stepped over to the side of the bed, watching the young man
thrash around, his face contorted in pain. Snape removed his arms from around
his student, taking steps back as fast as he could, nearly sighing in relief as
he watched the seizure slow and finally stop. He stayed near the door, knowing
that to get any closer would cause more pain to the young blonde.
“What happened?” Madam Pomfrey asked.
“He’s an empath. He fainted in my class.” Snape replied, ignoring the
presence of McGonagall who stood nearby. His gaze was focused on the blonde,
whose body was heaving with his attempts to take deep breaths, his body covered
in sweat as he wheezed and gasped.
“I knew your bad attitude would hurt someone eventually. You should learn to
lighten up, Serverus.” Madam Pomfrey chided, turning to a nearby tray and
mixing something.
“Quatre?!” A voice called out in surprise, gaining Snape’s attention. He
turned, watching as a boy in another bed looked over. Snape recognized the girl
who stood by his bedside as Ginny Weasley.
Madam Pomfrey turned to the brunette boy. “Trowa, you know him?” She asked,
but didn’t wait for an answer. “Good, then you can provide answers. How long
has he shown signs of being an empath?”
Trowa apparently wanted to get out of bed, but Ginny held him back. “He told
me once that it started shortly after he hit puberty.”
“And has he ever been unstable before?” Madam Pomfrey asked.
Trowa bowed his head and didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then he
quietly spoke. “Yes, he was emotionally unstable following his father’s
death...he witnessed it and I guess you could say he took out his rage in a
destructive manner.”
“What did he do?” McGonagall asked.
“He destroyed a colony.” Trowa whispered, his head lowered. “Quatre built
a Gundam and used it to destroy a colony...the system warped his mind,
twisted him until he wasn’t in control of himself anymore really. He saw us
all as enemies. He nearly killed Heero and me.”
“He was that boy I heard about?” Snape asked, genuinely surprised. Whoever
would have guessed that the ones most involved in a Muggle war had been wizards?
He was quite surprised that the pale blonde had done such destruction, that he
had been what was referred to as a Gundam Pilot. He didn’t seem the type to
kill.
Trowa nodded. “We all were Gundam pilots, Duo, Heero, Wufei, Quatre and I.”
He said.
“Enough, we don’t need to hear all of this.” Madam Pomfrey cut in, turning
back to Quatre with a small jar in her hands. She dipped her finger in, then
spread a glob of purple gel over the wound on Quatre’s forehead. Wiping her
hand off, she then pulled out her wand. “Ennervate!” She said firmly.
Quatre’s eyes opened minutely, and he quickly looked around to take in his
surroundings. He looked to be getting ready to open his mouth, but said nothing.
Instead, he looked away, shivering as he wrapped his arms around himself.
“What’s wrong with him?” McGonagall asked worriedly.
Madam Pomfrey shook her head. “He can’t control his empathic abilities.
He’s sensing too much from all of us and it has overwhelmed him to the point
where he can no longer communicate well.” She braced her hands on either side
of Quatre’s face, turning him to look at her. “How long has it been since
you lost control? What caused this, Quatre?” She asked, speaking slowly.
Quatre struggled for words, opening and closing his mouth several times before
he was able to get out a few words. “A week...Trowa caused...hit me
like her.” Quatre said, raising a hand to weakly point at McGonagall.
“What does he mean by that?” Madam Pomfrey asked. “When were you hit by
Mr. Barton?”
“Last week.” McGonagall replied, then clamped her hands over her mouth.
“Oh good lord, he can’t mean that. Mr. Barton knocked me over with a
telekinetic wave.”
“Damn! He must have knocked Quatre’s perception out of balance. No wonder
he’s been having trouble placing blocks, everything is out of whack.” Madam
Pomfrey said in a rush, then quickly left the room to her office.
Snape shook his head, looking at the boy quivering on the hospital bed. He
hadn’t known it was this serious. He had just thought that the boy was
inexperienced, not that he had been attacked inadvertently. He hoped that Madam
Pomfrey could help him. Of course Poppy was a skilled woman...he knew she
would figure something out.
Madam Pomfrey returned a moment later, carrying a small vial in her hand. The
liquid inside was a vibrant blue and appeared to be glowing faintly. As she
approached Quatre’s bedside, she pulled the cork out of the top and tossed it
aside, pulling a chair over to the bed. “Come on, Quatre...I need you to
sit up.” Madam Pomfrey urged, helping Quatre to rise to a sitting position.
Quatre sat there on the edge of the bed, watching her blankly, his eyes
seemingly fogging over with nothingness. This looked to be very serious. He was
rapidly losing himself. Madam Pomfrey didn’t appear to have much time.
“Drink this.” Madam Pomfrey said, holding the edge of the vial to his lips
and tilting it for him to drink. When it was half empty, she took it away from
him. She drank the remainder herself, then set the empty vial aside. Then she
took a seat in front of Quatre, taking hold of his hands while she stared deep
into his eyes. “Focus, Quatre. Let me help you...let me in.”