A dying flower

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• Serena Black •

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• Serena Black •

„Everyone mourns the first blossom.
Who will grieve the rest who fall?"

They spent the night mostly talking and thanks to the coffee, Serena's tiredness was also blown away, so she didn't nod off and have to be shaken awake again. With her two parents each on one side of the bed and Remus, Serena hadn't felt so sheltered, even happy, in a long time.

This was how it should have been all these years.

Perhaps there did seem to be something good about the incident in the end? But even though her condition seemed to worsen with each passing hour, she remained confident. Serena could also see her family trying not to lose their nerves and keeping up a semblance of hope for her. Panic was probably of little use to them in this situation, and there was nothing they could do about it anyway.

When the first morning rays of sunlight fell through the windows, there would be about 36 hours left to take the antidote. That was doable.

The chills had disappeared, but instead Serena was now overcome by an unimaginable heat, so uncomfortable that it felt as if her body was in the immediate vicinity of a fire. She even longed for the deep blue liquid back that made her blood freeze like ice.

Her forehead was soaking wet and had some of her dark hair strands fixed there. The blankets, meanwhile, had kicked Serena to the foot of her bed and she would have liked to rip off her clothes. She longed for a cold shower, but Madam Pomfrey had forbidden her that.

The door of the hospital wing opened creakily, announcing her mother's return. She carefully put a wet cloth on her daughter's forehead and handed her an ice-cold glass of water.

Serena gratefully took the glass and drank it down greedily in one gulp, the rag actually seeming to dull the heat somewhat for a short time. At least before the rag had become warm as well.

Only now did she notice that her mother was also placing a silver tray with all sorts of things on it on the small table next to her bed. "This was outside the door," she explained with a smile. "Probably from your friends."

Serena let her eyes wander overwhelmed over the full tray on which numerous Bertie Botts beans, chocolates from Honeydukes and get-well cards were piled up next to a tall jar with a flower in it.

Unusually, the flower had not yet blossomed, but had closed its red leaves into a thick bud. But the fact that someone gave her a flower that had not yet opened was by far not the strangest thing about the plant, but that it seemed to radiate from within. Curious, Serena reached out her hand. At her mere touch, the base of the flower slowly began to open to reveal a beautiful red rose.

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