Boys were not supposed to fall on the floor, trembling.  Not big sporty boys like Connor.  Maybe little boys, or possibly Muggles, but certainly not big strapping Sixth Years.  Maybe her music gave him a seizure.  Maybe he was playing some joke on her.  He’d certainly startled her.  Prim grabbed for Connor as he slipped to the floor, and succeeded in dragging his school robe half off, but not in actually keeping him up.  

Prim pushed the bench out of the way, her mouth pinched up in a narrow frown as she dropped to her knees.  She shook his shoulder and pulled on his arm and bent over his face, without the least idea of what to do.  He was still breathing, so he wasn’t dead.  What if he was almost dead?  What if he died?  Prim sat back on her heels in horror, considering this possibility.  Breathing felt difficult, and her mind froze up.  Crying seemed like a good idea, but Prim tugged weakly on Connor’s arm instead.  Oh, her mother would know what to do!  Or Madam Pomfrey.  Pomfrey – of course!  Prim leaned over Connor putting her hand against his face, petting his cheek before she kissed it lightly, hoping he would understand what she meant to do. 

And then she ran.  Prim ran flat out all the way to the Hospital Wing where she irritated Madam Pomfrey until the Witch finally followed her back to the Music Room and then, pushing the sweat from her hairline, Prim dropped back to her knees and tugged on Connor’s arm again.  




Primrose Darling