Chapter 5
Fuck, this was a bad idea. A really bad idea. Not only did he feel where the thorns had scratched at his lungs through the night, he felt where some of them had latched onto his lower throat, like they were slowly climbing up further and further. It felt like they were counting down to when they would finally get on with it and kill him.
“Ugh.” As he slowly sat up to reach for the mug on his bedside table, hoping to be able to spit the few petals he could feel into it, Barty slowly lifted Evan’s arm from where it had wrapped around his chest and placed it gently down next to him.
The petals swirled around in the shallow water, no full buds this time, but an interesting mix. Red, pink and lilac. They looked extremely pretty together and very clearly meant YOU’RE COMPLETELY IN LOVE, YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOT.
He looked around for something to cover the mug with when he put it back on the table so Evan wouldn’t see the petals and ask why they were there. When he was sure that he had gotten out the last of the petals, he placed a tissue over the top of it, trying to make it look as coincidental as possible. He then shuffled around slightly and layed back down next to Evan, making sure he wasn’t awake and hadn’t just seen him spit bloody petals into a mug so casually. Luckily, he still seemed perfectly peaceful.
He stayed there for a while longer, not having the energy to get up and get ready, nor the need to. It was the holidays, they could stay here for as long as they liked.
It took a while for Evan to wake up but when he did, Barty noticed immediately. He heard him hum slightly and shuffle a bit to put his hands over his eyes, trying to block out the light from the lamp on the bedside table, which they had forgotten to turn off the night before.
“Mornin’, Rosebud.”
Evan groaned and moved closer to him, burying his face in Barty’s neck. “This was a horrendous idea. We’ve grown since 3rd year, my legs are all cramped up now.”
“Good. Now you can’t run away.”
“Are you kidnapping me?”
“Yes, of course I am. My favourite method of kidnapping is by making sure my best friend doesn’t worry his head off by inviting him to steal half of my bed in the hopes that their legs cramp up so they are stuck cuddling me forever.”
“Sounds like a very clever plan.”
Laughing, Barty inched closer. “Are your legs okay, though?” He let his chin rest on Evan’s head and rested a hand on his chest.
“Yeah, they’ll be back soon. I don’t mind. I don’t want to move anyway.”
“Good.” He almost thought the plant was going to rip its way right out of his chest as he kissed Evan’s head, just like he had the night before, feeling him wrap his arms around him and move closer. “I don’t want to move either.”
The flowers disagreed.
-
It was Christmas Day and they still hadn’t mentioned that night. Why would they? They used to do it all the time. Okay, yeah maybe they had been slightly more intimate than usual but what harm did that do? They were older now, so it wasn’t as odd.
They went about the day fairly normally, neither of them being big celebrators of the holiday. Of course, they exchanged gifts and greeted the people in their house with a simple ‘Merry Christmas’ but neither of them were really too bothered.
The flowers had gotten worse over those few days. It wasn’t a surprise, he probably would have been more concerned if they hadn’t. It seemed as though death was getting impatient and was almost revealing its plan to everyone in the castle every time he so much as looked at Evan for longer than a few seconds. At this point, he felt more like a florist prepping for Valentine’s Day than a living, breathing human. Thigh, he supposed, soon he would not be living or breathing and he found himself growing to be increasingly more plant than human these days so maybe he wasn’t too far off with that one.
He’d noticed that Evan seemed to be getting increasingly worried about him, making sure he went to bed ridiculously early and didn’t do too much work (which was stupid, seeing as Barty mostly avoided doing work altogether during the holidays) and that made it very clear that he was still extremely worried about him. He was glad that Evan was worried about him, it showed he cared and Evan was particularly adorable when he cared. He got all fussy and affectionate, he was like a little puppy. Of course, now, he wasn’t able to smile at Evan’s fussing because instead of helping him feel cared for, it made his throat try to rip its way from his chest.
“Bar? Why have you locked yourself up in here like that? It’s been hours, are you okay? I can tell you aren’t sleeping, I can hear you.”
He pulled open the curtain to his bed slightly and smiled awkwardly at Evan. “Hi? How did you know I was awake? I could have been sleep-talking.”
“I know. If you were then it wouldn’t have made a difference, you wouldn’t remember it and I would forget about it almost immediately, no harm done. But you weren’t asleep, you’re muttering about flowers and death. What’s going on? Have I been reading you too much Hamlet? I knew it would be a bad idea.”
Barty managed to laugh at that, shaking his head and smiling. “Nah, it’s not that. I wasn’t talking about death but I was talking about flowers, I was thinking to myself about what they’re gonna have put up for dinner today on the tables, that’s all. I was bored and needed something to think about, that’s all.”
“Yeah, we’ll, speaking of which, I wanted to tell you that if you keep sitting there like a confused dog awaiting orders, you’ll miss dinner and I know it’s the only part of Christmas you like, so I wanted to warn you. I’m going down in 5, so if you want to go down with me, you need to get a move on.” Evan moved away from his bed slightly and started picking things up from the floor around him.
“As if I would ever deny being just at your side, my darling, beloved, Rosebud boy.”
Bad idea.
This was getting annoying, all he wanted to do was jokingly flirt with his best friend and his body just had to remind him of that pathetic fatal disease he just so happened to have. It was pretty fucking inconvenient.
“Will you ever stop calling me that?”
“No chance.” He knew that deciding to not say it would probably extend his lifespan by at least a week or two but was afraid that doing so would bring along another wave of suspicion.
Evan sighed and muttered, somewhat to himself and somewhat to Barty.
“I feel like if you ever do, I’ll need to be worried you may have been replaced. Come on then, get ready, I won’t stick around forever.”
“Evs…” He put on that so-called ‘sad puppy’ face and held out his hand to Evan. “I’m way too tired to stand up by myself, I’m afraid I may need help.” Evan rolled his eyes and he grinned as he felt them pull him to his feet.
“You’re welcome, your majesty.”
He dropped Evan’s hand and turned to grab his jacket, knowing it would be cold in the great hall. “Oh, so I’m Hamlet now, am I?”
Evan smiled and shrugged, clearly glad he had remembered at least one piece of information from the play during their reading of it. “Of course, you remind me of him, you know, don’t know why.”
“Really I see myself as more of an Ophelia, actually.” That seemed to intrigue Evan. He had only meant it to be understood by himself and go without Evan paying it much notice but apparently that wasn’t going to happen.
“Why Ophelia?”
The tragic romance, the flowers, the death, the love interest being at fault for it all in the end, that probably about covers it.
“Dunno, just do. I suppose I’m sort of like the two of them, then. I’m the perfect mix between the two. You remind me of Horatio, you know?”
“Horatio?” Barty nodded and Evan looked towards him as they left the room together, clearly not seeing it himself. “Why Horatio?”
“Ah, y’know, the obvious,” He slung his arm around Evan’s shoulders as he explained it, looking over to him. “You’re really smart…and calm and loyal, you manage to deal with my chaos, we’re complete opposites like that. I suppose if I’m Hamlet because of my impulsiveness, you have to be Horatio. There’s something else too, I just can’t put my finger on it yet.”
Evan nodded. “I have the same thing. I know you’re like him in some way I just…don’t know what it is yet. It’s weird.”
“Freaky.”
-
“Nah, Reggie is totally Gertrude!”
Evan buried his face in his hands. “Gertrude? Oh Merlin, please don’t tell him that. You’ll be dead before you can say ‘oops’.”
“No need to say oops if it’s true! Have you seen him around Potter?”
Evan pushed his plate away and pulled a disgusted face. “Please don’t remind me. I am so glad we don’t have to deal with it anymore.”
“The worst thing is, it’s not even the obsessive clinginess or unnecessary sexual comments that were infuriating, it was the way it kept pushing the fact I’m the lonliest one in the castle! I am pretty sure I am the only one here who has nobody chasing after me for something lasting longer than a week, it’s pathetic, I didn’t inherit my mother’s beautiful eyes for nothing, you know? Did you know that Slughorn used to date one of my father’s work colleagues? Apparently it was a very sensual relationship. I don’t really want the mental image of Sluggy getting it on with some posh ministry woman but I mean…even Slughorn is getting more action than me! Slughorn! If that isn’t embarrassing, I don’t know what bloody well is.”
Evan kept laughing and shook his head, putting his hand over Barty’ over the table. “Look…if old Horace can find someone, you can too. I’m sure you could find some random girl in Slytherin or Ravenclaw that is willing to give you a chance. If Reg’s brother can do it, you can too.”
I don’t want a random girl, I want you. You’re fucking killing me, I wish I could want anyone else.
“Evan…Regulus’ brother started dating that one muggle dude Potter lived with in the Christmas break of their 5th year…we are in our 7th! It’s too late for me. I’m a goner. You’re going to see my headstone when I die and under my name, it will say ‘died a fucking virgin, got less girls than Horace shitting Slughorn,’ you mark my words.”
They both laughed and Evan slapped his arm playfully. “There is no way I’m letting you die before me!”
Oh Ev, I will. I know I will.
Forcing a smile, he shrugged and leaned his elbows on the table. “Yes, but what if I die of singleness? What about then?”
Evan laughed and he felt sick. “I don’t want to crush your dreams but I don’t think that’s a thing, Bar. Sorry to disappoint.”
Yeah, well, I’ll prove you wrong there, Rosebud. He had to force the voice out of his head.
“That’s not the point. The point is that I’m inevitably going to die alone.”
Evan smiled smugly. “Awh, don’t worry. If you really get desperate, you can ask Horace for some tips!”
He couldn’t help the way his face screwed up in distaste. “Don’t call him ‘Horace’, it makes you sound like Regulus.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s disgusting.” Evan pulled a book out of his bag and opened it, leaning forward so he could lean the edge against the table whilst he read.
“You aren’t seriously reading at the Christmas feast?”
“Why can’t I? Am I not allowed to focus my energy on things I deem worthy of my time?”
No, I just wish you would spend more time with me, seeing as…well, y’know, I don’t really have much of it left.
“Are you trying to say that I am not the thing most worthy of your time? Evan, I feel insulted!”
-
Evan,Rosebud,Evs, Ev,
I know that
Please don’t
I want you to understand that this was
If this piece of paper (or multiple pieces of paper, I don’t know how much I have to say) comes into your possession, I know how you will be feeling. I mean, I am dead, aren’t I? I really do hope that you won’t end up in the position where you have to sit down and read this through but unless I choose to get that blasted cure, it’s over for me. I can’t change fate, you taught me that. I can’t avoid what is coming for me.
I have already been dying for a few weeks, maybe just over a month, as I am writing this and I hope that you are reading this sooner rather than later, just because I don’t want this to stretch out any longer than it has to take. Because it hurts. Keeping this secret, the burden of it is almost worse than the physical damage and that is fucking painful. I don’t want there to be enough time for it to be uncovered. Maybe you will find out and try to help me, maybe Reg will, but I really hope you don’t know it until you read this, you knowing and stressing yourself about it is the very last thing I would ever want because I lo because I care about you. I couldn’t imagine being the reason you were in so much pain. I promise I will explain to you what has happened. It will be difficult though. I have written a similar letter to Reg and my Mother, though yours is inherently more challenging to write.
You may figure out why in a moment.
I am sorry.
I have
I had
Have you heard of the flowers? It’s a disease. A magical one. The medical name for it is hanahaki if that sounds more familiar? Probably not.
Well, I’ll explain it in short. But you need to promise you won’t blame yourself. Please promise me that. I know I am dead but I can’t imagine how much I would hate myself if you ever even slightly blamed yourself for…all this. Please?
Hanahaki is a really rare disease, with only a few cases each year. It is essentially where a plant grows somewhere in your body, the place varies depending on the person, and means you begin to cough flowers, often ones with significant meanings depending on the person you love and your current emotions. It is almost unknown amongst most ordinary wizards and witches and muggles cannot get it. (Look at how special I am!) It happens when a romantic love for somebody is unrequited. Or, well, it doesn’t have to be but the person has to believe it is. There were barely any books on it but one said that it happens when the love is too strong to bear, another said it is when the love is your soulmate and another article I managed to dig up says that it is entirely random. I don’t really care for which but the point is, there is so little known about it that it makes it much easier to try convincing you that it was not your fault and I could not be saved. This is where the convincing gets more difficult. There are only three main ways to be rid of the flowers. Death, a potion (for which I found the side-effects far too horrid to consider taking it) and getting a love confession back. This is why that last one could never have worked. It was you I had the flowers for, as you can probably tell by now. I know you at least like me but a confession could not work as a platonic love is not enough, a false confession is fruitless and a rejection is instantly fatal. I could not risk it. You need to understand that it was my choice.
I love loved you. Right until the end, I am sure of it. And
“Bar? You alright? You’ve been quiet for the past 10 minutes.”
He looked up at the curtain he had pulled across, blocking him off from Evan and pulled the parchment into his chest quickly, as if Evan could see it in the first place. “Erm, yeah? I was…writing something. Homework.”
“Barty, you hate doing homework, you don’t even need to do it to get top grades, are you sure you’re okay?”
Curse Evan for knowing him so well.
“Yes? I think I would know if I wasn’t, Evs.”
“Right, well, can I come in? I need to check you aren’t possessed or being held hostage or something if that’s alright.”
The laugh that came out was slightly choked, due to the fact he had just been crying and he hoped Evan wouldn’t notice. “Sure, nice to know you care.”
“Not really, I just don’t want to be the next victim of whatever has gotten you.”
“Always the logical one, weren’t you, Ev?” He smiled weakly at the ceiling.
He continued to smile as Evan peeled back the curtain and tried to make it look as though he really had been doing homework, placing another piece of parchment over the one he had been writing on, this one having a few scrawled potions notes from before the holiday. He put them to the side so Evan couldn’t spot anything out of the ordinary and continued trying to act natural.
“Your hair’s wet.”
Evan laughed and ran a hand through their hair, like they had just remembered it. “Wow, you really are an observant one, aren’t you? Did you not hear me getting out of the shower?”
“Nah. Didn’t even hear you going in to be honest. Too busy working.”
“Uh-huh…well, I’m actually tired, so sorry for distracting you but I’m gonna go and get some-”
He is suspicious of you, good going, Barty. Now he knows there is a problem, nice one you fucking idiot. Think of something to stop him from thinking about it. Think of something that will make you seem normal. Think, think, think.
He didn’t even realise he had reached out and grabbed Evan’s wrist until it was too late. “No!”
Shit. Now Evan thinks you’re crazy. Do something! Say something normal!
“Read me Hamlet. I want to listen to you reading it to me again.”
You’ve already finished it, you moron. There is no more to read.
Evan noticed this too. “But we have already finished it.”
He fought the urge to hit his head off the wall repeatedly. “I know. Read it again.”
“Again?”
“Yup!” He patted the space next to him and Evan crossed his arms with a raised eyebrow, looking over at him expectantly.
“We’ve already read it, so you know everything that happens. Besides, I don’t want to sit on your bed and read for an hour whilst you lie around comfortably, thank you very much. My bed is actually looking very welcoming over there.”
Nonono, stay. Think Barty, think. Make him stay.
“Then lie down, you fool.”
“What? And yell at you from over there?”
Okay, for a smart guy, Evan could be pretty stupid sometimes.
“No. Lie down with me, dimwit. Then I get to hear your wonderful voice reading me the play and you get to experience my famously expert cuddles, which you know you love. It’s a win-win, no?”
“Are you-”
“Yes, I’m sure, now get the book and come here. I don’t have all night.”
Evan stepped across the room and picked up the book from under a pile of others before stepping back over to Barty and sitting cautiously at the edge of his bed. He let Barty pull him onto the mattress and tried to find a comfortable way to lie where he could still read the book without dropping it on his face.
“You’re really clingy, you know that?”
“Evs, you literally tell me that every day.”
“I know. And you still don’t start acting like a normal person instead.”
Grinning, Barty moved closer but did not touch Evan in any way. “Well, do you want me to stop?”
“Nah.”
“Then I won’t. Come on then, move, I can’t look at the pages when you read them if you’re lying like that.”
“Well what do you want me to do?”
He thought for a moment, then smiled. “Nothing. Stay there, I have an idea.”
Once Evan put the book down and stopped fidgeting, Barty shuffled closer, sitting himself in between his legs and then laying back down across his chest. After a little more shuffling, Evan looked like his lungs were being slowly crushed so Barty stopped and decided to go with what they had. Evan picked up the book and held it up against Barty’s chest so they could both see it, holding it with one hand and letting Barty hold half of it with one of his, using his free hand to run his fingers through the boy’s hair softly.
He started reading the play and saw as Barty’s eyes closed for a few minutes, opening on certain occasions to read the page a little and then closing again.
Evan lifted his hand to turn the page and felt Barty shuffle to look at his grumpily. “Oi, why did you take your hand away? You’ve ruined all the calmness now!”
“Calmness?”
Barty huffed heavily. “Yes!”
“I had to turn the page, Barty. Stop being dramatic and clingy.”
“Hand. Hair. Now.” He sighed and continued to run his fingers through his hair, tucking some behind his ear to keep it out of his face, gaining a satisfied hum.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll need to do it again every time I turn the page, you know?”
“Whatever. Just promise you won’t stop. It’s nice.”
“I promise. Now shut up and let me read the play, okay?”
Barty smiled to himself, his eyes closed again and whispered. “No promises.”
He felt Evan gently kiss his head before picking up his place in the play, his voice muffled as Barty’s attention was instead brought to the sharp scraping in his chest. But he didn’t really care. He already knew he was going to die but if every day before that could be like this, he didn’t mind one bit.