-UndoubtedlyYours-

-Chapter♕Eight-

✧POISONOUS TONIC✧

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***

Funny enough, the following day after the party—Rhea had fallen ill with a slight cold. And of course, her family was convinced that all it needed was a remedy. One's that's been passed down from generations, but for some reason, it hadn't been making an improvement.

If anything, Rhea had been feeling worse.

She attempted to tell her parents that nothing in the mixture was going to be beneficial to her immune system, yet she didn't have the knowledge of whether or not it was harmful to her.

It'd been the fourth day that she was bedridden, but it had been a slight blessing to get away from the world around her. Even better, Rabastan had set up her record player to play a few book recordings.

Perhaps there was finally a start to him being kind as he once was.

Yet her luck and enjoyment of being left to her devices without any obligations were about to run thin. As it started to become a chore to rise up from her bed and use the loo.

Sirius had been another lifeline, but writing became such a strain that she hardly had any true connection to converse with him or Andy. But in the meantime, she had tried to search up through her illness, or what the hell was featured in that tonic that her mother swore by.

Yet as she clutched her stomach, her eyes began to bulge at how damn loud the pain had suddenly grown. It felt as though it was burning, no matter how much she told her mother—It had been ignored and shielded with the tonic.

Purebloods didn't get ill, do they?

She had that theory for all this silence, but she was starting to lose that portion of her brain and when she expelled another round of vomit into her toilet.

"T-Tessa!" Rhea said, her voice growing raw and irritated with how strained it'd become. The Elf followed in suit shortly thereafter, and while she had stumbled over herself in an attempt to help—Rhea had simply asked to get her brother.

With how frantic the elf had been, she didn't doubt it would be that long. Which was true, though Rabastan had hesitated in coming into the room, losing valuable time as Rhea's eyes were starting to lose their consciousness.

"Rhea?...Rhea!" He hurried down beside her, taking in her sweaty and pale appearance, he had just visited her the other day, how did she get worse from—

His thoughts had silenced as she caught Rhea mumbling, but as she started to slouch, he held her up by her shoulders and shouted her name once more. "What is it, what can I do?

"S-saint...Mungos." She whispered, her eyes starting to flutter shut as her body had used its last few ticks of energy throwing up.

"Rhea it's—" She gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer, repeating the destination before falling limp. In a panic, he called the elf in return, as he couldn't leave his sister to lie on the bathroom floor. With that he had called upon his mother, who came in without a care in the world.

Realistically the woman had checked once or twice a day on her daughter, nothing more.

And yet it still managed to get worse.

"Rabastan...Where—" He turned over towards her in utter relief, claiming all that he could. But all he was instructed to do was pick her up and return her back to her bed.

Yet seeing the restart of giving her the tonic caused him to stare in awe. "Mother, I don't think that's helping...Wouldn't she be getting better, not worse?" The question hadn't elected a pause in Clarissa's method of treatment, and that had caused Rabastan scoff.