Embers of Discord

Chapter Forty-One

Sirius-

Dangling my legs over the sofa, I take out the Marauders Map. Where could she be??
It's good I've an off period right now. Or else, it would have been hard to follow through the series of lectures without a glimpse of her.

Am I coming off as a creepy stalker? Perhaps, but why should I care? While most people would label obsession as unhealthy, mine is purely innocent. I trace Ahava's steps in the Hospital Wing with my eyes. She missed her classes today. Is she unwell?

Without wasting a moment, I hurry down the stairs, making my way to the Hospital Wing.

There, I find Ahava resting on a bed, her eyes closed. I approach her, disregarding the stern gaze of Madame Pomfrey.

"May I ask what brings you here, Mr. Black?"

Instead of responding, I ask, "Is she ill?"

Pomfrey's gaze shifts between me and Ahava. "Miss Shafiq has a slight fever. But what about you?"

I become tense as I feel her forehead. Fuck, it's burning hot. I need to stay here, ensuring she's okay. So, I come up with an excuse.

Placing a hand over my chest, I turn to Pomfrey and say, "Actually, I'm experiencing a sharp pain here. I believe I need some rest. Would you be so kind as to allow me to stay here, Mdame?"

She approaches me, carrying a stack of pots. "I fail to see why you can't rest in your common room or, even better, your dormitory."

Damn.

Pomfrey may appear as a candy floss, but in truth, she is a badass, issuing orders and managing the Wing all by herself.

I make another attempt. "Actually, Madame, I think I'll feel better if I stay here. Furthermore, I'll ensure Ahava's well-being. After all, she's one of your most skilled healers, and it wouldn't do for her to remain sick."

Please, just agree to it.

Her lips curl up slightly as she mutters, carrying the pots outside to the garden. "Young love."

Sitting down beside Ahava, I gaze at her peaceful sleeping figure. She appears incredibly serene, with her lips slightly parted. One of the things I admire about her is her calmness—an aura of soothing tranquility that I've always lacked.

I notice her unfinished Arithmancy homework lying beside her. Clearly, she was attempting to work on it instead of resting. This girl... she doesn't even prioritize her health over studying.

An hour passes when suddenly, Ahava stirs and looks pale. She manages to utter, "I'm... I'm going to be sick."

In a panic, I search for something and find an empty bucket nearby. Just in time, I position it beneath her, supporting her as she leans forward and pukes, using one hand to hold her and the other to keep her hair away from her face.

Once she's finished, I place a pillow behind her and fetch a washcloth and water. Cleaning her face, I offer her some water to drink. It's good that everything we need is readily available here; otherwise, I would have been in a fix.

When I finish attending to her, I ask, "Love, are you feeling better now, or should I call Madame Pomfrey?"

Her eyes fly open, and she looks at me with confusion. "I feel better now. But why are you here?"

I shrug, "I heard you were sick, so I thought I'd check up on you."

She smiles faintly, and her cheeks flush with color. "Did I... vomit? Oh, God... I'm sorry, it's so disgusting, I-"

I interrupt her, placing my hand over her mouth. "Stop overthinking everything. There's nothing disgusting about it. You were unwell, and your body reacted as it should. It's a normal response. Besides, I took care of your homework, so don't stress about that either. You need to rest, woman. Rest."

Her eyes soften ever so slightly, filled with gratitude and an elusive emotion I couldn't quite decipher. I ask once more, in a hushed tone, "Are you certain you're okay? Do you need anything?"

She nods quietly, extending her arms as if she wants to embrace me. That's probably not what she intends, though. I mean, why would she want to hold me? But then she whispers,

"Please, hold me."

 As her arms encircle my shoulders, seeking permission, a warm sensation washes over me, calming my inner being. I embrace her, my arms gently caressing her back.

She releases a contented sigh, resting her hand on the crook of my neck and squeezing me tighter. I don't mind at all. In fact, this mere physical contact makes me feel more alive than I ever have before. "You always make me feel like there's more to life than... Quidditch and map-building," I confess to her.

Ahava nuzzles even closer as she says, "You always make me feel safe, Siri."

My heart thumps as she addresses me by my given nickname. It may not be particularly remarkable, but I love it every time she utters those words. It tempts me to ask her to repeat it over and over again. "I'm glad. By the way, get well soon. I owe you four more reasons."

"Not four, Siri. Six," she counters.

"What? How?"

"Well, the fifth reason is for taking care of me, and the sixth is for completing my homework," she clarifies, pulling away slightly.

"Buttercup, I didn't do it solely for those reasons. You don't have to count them. I would have done it regardless," I interject.

She stops me, saying, "I know, I do. But it matters what you did, and it does count. The fact that you did it anyway makes me want to count it even more."

My smile widens as I retort, "Alright then. But get well soon, and don't burden yourself with homework. I'll help you catch up. I need you to be well and sound before I unveil my seventh reason."