Pain, all she could feel was pain, while she coughed up blood. She had survived so many missions just to die from poison. Tears started running down her face; a hand pressed against her mouth, while another lifted the dress she was wearing, up enough from the ground to aid her running.
She had to at least try to get her hands on a Bezoar – giving up without a fight was not an option. Aesop came to mind and a sob - accompanied by more of her red life force - left her. The thought of “I will be missing him” seemed so irrational, since she would not miss anyone once she was gone. Even if she, by God’s grace, would be welcomed into paradise, there would be no tears and no pain. Nevertheless, she could not let go of the pain she was feeling now when she thought about never seeing Aesop again.
Struggling to breathe, she sought hold on the wall of the corridor. There was no way of reaching the Hospital Wing in time, she felt the nearing end. Having left the Yule Ball to get some fresh air, after the onset of uneasiness, had put her at a disadvantage. The smartest thing she could think of doing in that panic-driven moment was to run into the Great Hall – where the festivities were taking place – and throw herself at Headmaster Black’s mercy. He was the only one who could apparate in the Castle, holding the last glimpse of hope regarding her survival in his hands.
It wasn’t far to the Great Hall anymore, but it seemed like an eternity. She felt like she would faint every second, while stumbling through the Castle. Red vital fluid found its way through the fingers at her mouth, falling onto the already bloodstained silk of her dress. What had been a beautiful light green piece of art, was now a horrifying tale of suffering.
The students she saw, once she was close to reaching the gigantic doors of the Great Hall, screamed when they laid eyes on her – their voices mingling in pure chaos. She could barely speak and thinking clearly was becoming more and more difficult, not just due to her panic. It was an instinctive decision made within seconds, when she grabbed one of the students with pleading eyes.
“Headmaster... Black... Get him...”
Trying to get air to fill her lungs resulted in more coughing.
The boy she had asked for help – a young man of the seventh year; Hufflepuff, if she remembered correctly – hurried back into the Hall. She saw a glimpse of his blonde hair while her body sank to the ground; all strength leaving her.
The touchingly beautiful violin music coming from the Hall was accompanying her impending demise in a stark contrast of festive spirit, as if a villain had written the play she was partaking in, celebrating her doom. Concentrating on the mesmerizing composition of intertwining sounds she fell into an otherworldly sphere where everything was veiled in calm confusion and blurry sight. The spirit in her started laying down to rest, inviting her sweetly to close her eyes.
Feeling unconsciousness stretching its arms out for her, she heard Black’s voice and confident hands on her shoulders. Everything seemed so far away – neither the blood running down her chin, nor the single tear leaving the corner of her eye, or the words spoken to her registered in her foggy mind. She barely felt something being pressed to her lips, before clarity started to return slowly like a spirit of light filling a darkened room to gift one knowledge that had been hidden before.
Black’s serious face looked down at her, eyes betraying his usual uncaring mask. She heard Aesop speaking – Aesop! One last look at him, she begged internally, just one last look at him before I have to leave.
Black left her field of view, making place for the Potions Master who gently cupped her face with one hand to probe her mouth open with his thumb, placing a Bezoar in her mouth with the other. Swallowing with the strength left in her she took in her fiancé. She noticed that his calm demeanor was a façade hiding the panic rampaging in him, despite her confused state. His dark eyes moved quickly, his jaw was tightened, his mouth pressed together bitterly. Now she felt tears leave her eyes. What a handsome man he was, even in distress. He should not suffer once she was gone, the thought alone was unbearable.
“Don’t leave me, Katherine.” His words, a mere whisper, made her attempt to shake her head – she was unsure if she had succeeded. Lips touched her forehead, before they were replaced by his. His hair darkened everything in her vision, lulling her to close her eyes once more. This time it felt different – she did not feel as if life was leaving, or unconsciousness inviting her.
“You won’t lose this fight. You cannot lose this fight, Kate. I’m here and I’ve got you.”, he paused before repeating; his voice heavy, “Don't worry, I got you."
His words tucked at her mouth, forming a tired smile. She noticed his very own scent once more – warm and masculine. Breathing was easy and the panic, as well as lethargy, was gone. Her hands found their way into Aesop’s hair, gratefulness and immense relief filling her. She had survived.
“You did... you do.” Her voice was raspy – the coughing from the poison having taken a toll on her throat.
Straightening, he looked down at her, the same relief she felt to be seen on his face. She corrected herself mentally – she could see it on his face, but she doubted others could. His face did not tend to give too much away in the presence of others. Taking a look at their surroundings, she noticed that she had been taken to the Hospital Wing. Black was standing nearby, talking to Noreen Bailey – the matron – sending looks her way with furrowed brows.
“Take this.”
Aesop’s hand helped her into a sitting position, holding up a glass of water with the other one. Taking a few sips, the witch looked down at the wizards’ hand resting on her bloodstained silk clad leg.
“Thank you.” Sharp’s confusion was apparent, even though he nodded shortly. “Thank you for saving me”, she paused, “and for the water”, she paused anew, “and for your love.”
His eyes glimmered with unshed tears. He had feared, she saw it now clearer than before.
He swallowed visibly, his hand squeezing her leg as far as he could through the layered fabric.
His verbal silence left her room to direct more words at him, her lips quivering.
“I just wanted to see your face one last time and hoped you would not suffer once I was gone. Forgive me for not having fought more.”
Something in him seemed to break. His head lowered, as if to hide the tears threatening to fall, and proud shoulders suddenly didn’t seem so proud anymore. Strong arms encircled her without care for the other two people present.
The silence embracing them held for a while before he regained his composure enough to mutter into her elegantly curled hair – ensuring only she could hear him.
“I would have suffered unbearably and I’m not willing to let you go, Katherine, I just cannot. The world without you is a place so dark I do not want to fight it on my own.” His arms strengthened their hold before letting go completely, a hand of his caressing one of her tears away.
She looked up into his face – which seemed unmovable again. His whole demeanor appeared as if he was made of steel. She knew that posture: He was ready to kill.
“I will find out who is trying to take your life, and I will take his instead.”