𝔖𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔱𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣 | 𝐇𝐏 ʷᵗᵐ

𝟎𝟔𝟖; ᴍᴀʀᴀᴜᴅᴇʀs ᴍᴀᴘ

MADAM POMFREY INSISTED ON KEEPING COVENTINA in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend. She didn't argue or complain, but she wouldn't let her throw away the shattered remnants of his Nimbus
Two Thousand.

"It's seem to be my work to heal all the Potter." Madam Pomfrey let out a sighs before glaring at Fleamont.

"You can't blame me, blame my blood-" Fleamont facepalm along side James and Coventina.

"We have the same blood."

She had a stream of visitors, all intent on cheering her up. Hagrid sent her a bunch of earwiggy flowers that looked like yellow cabbages, and Antares would send her chocolate- she would never admit it but she adores it.

"Of course she does!" Aelora tolls her eyes. "Antares, you need to stop sending her chocolate specially at night."

"What no!" Coventina frowns, she may be mad at Antares but there is no way she would accept that he stop sending chocolate.

He was her chocolate savior.

"She got her priorities straight and I am fucking gay." Blaise comments.

"She always give him a run for his money." Delphina laughs.

"Altair and Aerys too-" Draco shrugs.

Aerys smirks. "Coventina is literally everyone's favorite."

The Gryffindor team visited again on Sunday morning, this time accompanied by Wood, who told Coventina (in a hollow, dead sort of voice) that he didn't blame her in the slightest.

She hadn't told anyone about the Grim, because she knew that it would make her siblings worried. The fact remained, however, that it had now appeared twice, and both appearances had been followed by near-fatal accidents; the first, fallen fifty feet from her broomstick.

And then there were the dementors. Coventina felt sick and humiliated every time she thought of them. Everyone said the dementors were horrible, but no one else collapsed every time they went near one. No one else heard echoes in their head of their dying parents.

"I would have if I met one." James smiles at his daughter.

The Potter was strong physically, never mentally. They appears strong in every single way but one of their weakness is that they are very sensitive.

Because Coventina knew who that voice belonged to now. She had heard him words, heard them over and over again during the night hours in the hospital wing while she lay awake, staring at the strips of moonlight on the ceiling.

When the dementors approached her, she heard the last moments of her mother's life, the moment before he was attacked protecting her from Lord Voldemort. Coventina dozed fitfully, sinking into dreams full of clammy, rotted hands and petrified pleading, jerking awake to dwell again on her mother's voice.

"It weird being call mother." James let out a sigh.

"Get use to it, wife." Achilles smiles, his eyes bright as the stars.

"I am not your wife! And maybe in this future, you will be the wife." James scoffs.

"Never." Achilles says almost offend.

It was a relief to return to the noise and bustle of the main school on Monday, "If Snape's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts again, I'm skiping off," said Weasley as they headed toward Lupin's classroom after lunch.

"He is speaking fact after all."

"Snape better not be there!" Aelora frowns while comforting a nervous Neville. Professor Lupin was back at work. It certainly looked as though she had been ill. She smiled at the class as they took their seats, and they burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Snape's behavior while Remina had been ill.