Chapter Text
“Cass, I’ve been making to ask…what are we?”
Before summer came to a close and a new year at Hogwarts began, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. It started as a mild cough and a dry throat—nothing too severe, just irritating. At first, you assumed it was something in the air, after all, seasonal allergies tend to come and go. But this particular cough lingered and followed you all the way to Hogwarts, a palace far from home.
You managed to suppress the coughing during the train ride, but climbing the many stairs left you easily winded. Luckily Ivy and Daniel were more than happy to help. Of course, they were concerned, taking time out of their busy schedules to help you out as well. Seeing the situation in person was much different than how you phrased it in the letters you exchanged.
The two of them, along with the others (Lottie, Robyn, Kevin, Winifred, and Abigail) all believed it had to do with the dark magic in your body. Assuming that the magic that consumed your right arm stayed dormant, spreading internally to your lungs. After a thorough investigation with the headmistress and Madame Pomfrey, they concluded that the dark magic had not affected your lungs. Leaving you back to square one.
As the weeks passed it slowly became worse. This cough was different than any other cough you had experienced. It felt like something was piercing the inside of your lungs like something was trying to exit with every cough. Eventually, it progressed to a scratchy throat, no matter how much water you consumed it was still persistent. You exerted more energy trying to breathe properly and you were more tired quickly.
"Here, take this." Daniel handed you another colored potion he created to help soothe the pain, each stronger than the last. After a while, you grew used to the bitter taste, still unpleasant.
"Are you sure Madame Pomfrey did all she could?" Ivy questioned, having gone to many appointments with you.
After taking a few spoonfuls of your soup, the lingering bitter aftertaste leaves your throat and you reply, "There is nothing she can do, magic can only do so much. It’s tough to find a cure for a sickness you don’t know the origin of." There is a raspiness in your words, and your friend's faces grow more concerned. Noticing you catching your breath more frequently.
While your friends are debating what to do, you spot familiar golden locks in the corner of your eye. You focus on her voice scolding the twin brothers in the distance. Turning your head slightly in curiosity, she whips her head in your direction. The two of you making eye contact hits you like a bus, causing you to readjust yourself quickly. Instead, you lose balance, falling out of your seat and all your friend’s attention turns to you. Feeling everyone’s eyes looking at you, a sudden itchiness surfaces in your throat.
“Are you alright?!” Abigail dashed from where she was seated, helping you back into your seat.
“What just happened?” Daniel questioned.
Sitting up you notice your vision is lagging behind a tad. Brushing it off you reach for a glass and drink some water. “I guess I’m more tired than I thought.” Sleeping had been tough, to say the least. Sometimes you’d wake just to start coughing up a lung and gasping for air.
“Maybe you should take the rest of the day off,” Robyn suggested.
“I know you don’t want to miss too many classes but if you keep forcing yourself. You’re probably doing more harm.” Kevin pitched in.
Daniel looked at you with concern, “I’ll bring your work over later with a fresh batch of potions.”
Little did you know, this was just the beginning of a long lengthy sickness that slowly consumed your entire body.
~~~~
After being kicked out of the library you tried to distract yourself by practicing some dueling. You kept yourself busy for a little bit, being the only one in the room provided little distractions. All was good until Cassandra entered the room. You had been avoiding her, not wanting her to see you in such a terrible state. Your standing with her was uncertain, though the two of you had grown closer over the years. After mustering up the courage to ask, only to be cut off by fireworks you kept the question at bay. Over the summer you found yourself overthinking.
The letters you exchanged over the summer were no different than the previous years. But this summer, more than ever, you longed to say the words you couldn’t. But whenever you started writing a letter you couldn’t find the right words, and many journals and pens were burned after a small fit of annoyance. After almost lighting your room on fire, instead of scarring your family with the fire alarms going off. You were hoping to discuss this in person with her. But then the coughing started which prevented you from approaching her, not wanting to die on the spot. A part of you hoped that if you stopped making contact she’d reach out on her own, you were proven wrong.
Maybe it’s all in your head, the only one you discussed this with was your pet owl. All the bird did was look at you with confusion while comforting you in your time of need. Just thinking about the situation made your chest tighten and you felt a coughing fit surface. Almost causing a catastrophe by dropping your wand mid-spell.
Cassandra, who was on the other side minding her own business, grows annoyed at your constant coughing. She turns your way, "Will you cut that out, it's very distracting?" Irritation laced her words, knowing she had heard your continuous coughing in every class and throughout the castle.
When you turn to face her, she is taken aback by your sick state. During classes and in the halls she never got a good look until now, the bags under your eyes were normal but you appeared much weaker. The color of your skin was pale, your breathing was ridged, and your clothes looked a bit bigger on you.
For a moment she thought, were you earring properly? Then proceeded to brush the thought away, and she took a few steps closer to you. Your shoulders slumped, and looking down she noticed how you looked to be struggling to hold yourself up.
There’s a dry feeling in your lungs and throat, your hand grips the center of your shirt. Swallowing, you put a weak smile on your face.“Don’t mind me, I’m sure it’s just allergies.” For the first time in a while, you met her gaze.
A little bit unsettled by her glaring daggers and an unimpressed look on her face. "Clearly, you are incapable of taking care of yourself—again," she made sure to stress the final word. “I thought we talked about this last year.” You caught a brief glimpse of concern before she quickly rebuilt her walls. At least last year it was the stress of juggling classes and a tournament, this year was an entirely different challenge. “Get back to your room or I’m sending you to the infirmary room.”
Playful yet serious she points her wand at you, eyes darting to the exit-a silent cue for you to start moving. You slowly exit the dueling room, and Cassandra follows suit. Placing your wand into your pocket not realizing something fell from one of the pockets in your robes. Cassandra lunges behind and waves her wand and the object comes into better view, a small pink petal lands in her hand. After carefully examining the petal, she realizes it’s from no flower she recognizes. Your coughing pulls her back to reality, and she quickly pockets the petal for further inspection.
As the two of you walked the coughing was nonstop, each fit worse than the last. Slowly getting worse from a dry throat to a deep burning sensation, the kind that left your chest aching. You can feel the petals crawling their way up, desperate to escape and scraping your throat with each ragged breath. A few tears welled in the corners of your eyes from the sheer pain of it all. Noticing your struggle, she reached into her pocket and handed you her handkerchief, her usual sharp gaze softening once again.
The two of you entered the Room of Requirement, the layout looked different than the last time she’d been here. The room always had a welcoming feeling, this time it felt as if someone had been using it more regularly. Her eyes land on a bed, the sheets all tangled and unkept, evidence that it had been occupied for the last few days. Belongings were scattered by the bed—a half-empty water glass and some empty potion bottles on the bedside table, and a few herbology books lying on the floor, making it clear that this room had become more than a temporary refuge. The truth was you’ve been sleeping here for the past couple of weeks because of your constant coughing complaints from nearby neighbors.
You make your way to the bed, almost collapsing on top of it in the process and forcing your body to sit up. Cassandra stood arms crossed, tapping her foot on the ground, waiting for an answer. Although, you weren’t even sure what question she was asking. The tension in the air hung thick as the taping continued and you searched her face for a clue. Unsure if her silence was an invitation to speak or something else. “You went to Madame Pomfrey about this correct?”
You shake your head, unable to respond due to the burning sensation and you lift the handkerchief to your mouth. You tried everything to not cough, afraid that petals or blood would leave your lips thus creating greater concern. A sharp pain shot throughout the center of your chest and all you wanted to curl in a ball.
Noticing your discomfort, she steps closer and you lean forward, resting your head on her. She brushes her through your hair while listening to your ragged breathing. Not wanting you to suffer anymore, she gently removes your robe and tosses it onto a nearby chair. Gently pushing your shoulders as you lay down on your back, then sitting beside you. You lower your hand from your face, your fingers clenching the handkerchief tightly.
“Cass-” You immediately start coughing again, aggressive enough that you force yourself to sit back up. Keep yourself present by clenching the handkerchief while pain spreads across your body and your vision becomes a bit spotty. Desperate to stay grounded instead of succumbing to the pain, you struggle to steady yourself. It didn’t help that your breath came in short, uneven gasps, only making it harder to regain control. No matter how hard you try the lack of air is making your vision blur. A gentle hand soothes your back and your shaking subsides. You didn’t want to be alone but you also didn’t want her to listen to his constant coughing.
She places an ungloved hand on your forehead, your face is warm from the coughing and your cheeks are flush. “Let me grab some things from the greenhouse.” As much as she wants to stay she can’t just sit around and do nothing.
After helping you lay back down, the room conjured a wet cloth to place on your forehead. As you do, your gaze lingers a bit too long on her emerald eyes, and a warmth flutters in your chest, momentarily cutting through the pain. She tries to hide her concern behind a stoic expression, but her eyes betray her.
Trying to suppress another cough, you speak quietly. “Cass I-” I like you. I want to be with you. Please tell me you feel the same. Tell me it’s true. Tell me it’s not all in my head.
She cuts you off, almost as if she knew what you were dying to tell her. “Save your energy and get some rest. I’ll return soon.”
The moment the doors shut, you let out all the suppressed coughing. Petals spill from your mouth, some landing on the handkerchief clutched in your hand while the others scattered on the bed and floor. You try to focus your vision on the now blood-splattered petals, each one varying between different colors and shapes. A glass of water conjured itself on the bedside table, and you drank until the taste of metal left your mouth. It only provided a temporary relief. A pounding in your head surfaced and your body felt heavy. Not long afterward, you fathered the petals in the handkerchief, tossed it aside, then closed your eyes and fell asleep.