Non Omnis Moriar

15: Old Faces

Hello! I am back with another chapter! OMG it's been so long, right? Funny story about that -

I may have written two chapters in July for Nanowrimo...and promptly forgotten about it. UGH, it's been a rough couple of months. Thankfully, I opened the doc and there were the two boons right there!

So I'm just gonna throw them at you so I can go weep in peace whoops.

***

A sneeze escaped me as soon as I stepped foot onto the ice cold flagstone. Then another and another until the handkerchief I held to my nose rubbed the skin raw.

I was in agony.

Changing seasons were usually hard on my health, and with the temperature of the Slytherin dorms, it was only making it worse. Sure, there were roaring fires on each end, but the lake made up well for it, frosting the windows that peered into the depths of the Great Lake.

I padded over groggily to the fire, letting the heat bask into my palms. Over my shoulder, I could still see that Lila and the other girls were fast asleep. Even Olive's curtains were drawn, and she usually left quite early for her patrol with Riddle.

It still struck me strange that Olive Hornby was a Prefect, but then so was Voldemort...so was Draco Malfoy. I shuddered before deciding that upstairs would be a lot warmer than down here.

I changed quickly, leaving a note for Lila on her bed stand and then sneaking out of the dormitory.

Back in my time, it had become common knowledge that the last three months of winter would result into a red nosed, snotty, grumpy and groggy Rose Alton. My friends knew to stay out of my way, sometimes sneaking warm treats onto my nightstand to help soothe me. My teachers, minus Snape of course, usually went a little easier on me, having seen the way my eyes would tear up simply from staring at the chalkboard. The times I went home for Christmas, mother and Pam would be extra generous if my cold persisted, although it didn't in the confines of the Alton manor. Maybe mother had spelled the grounds – I didn't know.

One time, during my fourth year, I had been caught sneaking out of bed by Dumbledore himself, who took pity on me and took me to the kitchens for hot chocolate.

Here, of course, I dared not reach further than I could. While all my new friends were being very kind about it, with Fawley sniffling silently too – I wasn't about to ask for butter beer in the night from them.

The professors had taken notice of course. Dumbledore during one of the night time conversations hummed a tune absently while I sniffled into my handkerchief. Dippet had approached me one time to ask how I was getting along, when he had seen with quickly widening but sympathetic eyes my state of blotchiness. Slughorn...well, I'd sneezed at him so loudly when he came to check on my potion that he had stepped back in alarm.

All of them had suggested the hospital wing.

Naturally, I had been well acquainted with the hospital wing of Hogwarts. I was almost always in for cuts and bruises from going against Slytherins and Madam Pomfrey knew to keep a steady supply of pepper-up potion for moments like these. After all, I wasn't the only student getting sick during the cold weathers.

The Hospital wing door creaked when I pushed on it, sneaking into a crack in the wooden doors. The front office of the wing was chilly – and empty. I could spy some beds from where I stood, catching sight of the one three down. It was the same I'd been in but there were curtains around it now – occupied.