Chrysopoeia

Chapter 34 - Madness

Cassia had long since woken up, but she still lay in bed, half-listening as her dormmates prepared for the day—the sliding of drawers, the shuffle of books and parchment, chit-chat about the love potion Garreth was creating. She didn't want to think about love. She stared at the ceiling, tracing the glittering patterns with her eyes until her vision blurred. And then, she remained. Unfocused. Unfeeling. For as long as she could.

When, at last, their voices faded, and the door clicked shut behind them, she heaved herself upright. Her hair hung like string down her back, but she didn't feel like putting it up. Tucking it behind her ears, she hobbled down the ladder. Too tired and apathetic to take a bath, she pulled on a rumpled uniform, figuring no one would care how she looked anyway. Then, shrugging on a school robe, she spotted a piece of folded parchment with a familiar wax seal.

"Of all things..." she groaned.

She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, wishing it would disappear if she ignored it. Rubbing her temples, she counted softly, giving herself ten seconds before facing reality, but as she got to five, she lost herself in the empty quiet. It was nice there. Safe. There was no hurt, no tears, no longing ache that cut her. But it never lasted.

She tried to think about anything else—potions homework, dirty laundry, how nice it'd feel to be home—but her mind always went back to the balcony. She could feel the winter breeze and smell the smoke in the air, a scent so painfully like Sebastian's. She could feel him come closer, giving her everything she wanted with his soft touch, nearly tasting him on her lips. Then, he ripped from her all over again, crushing her, discarding her like broken glass on the cold, stone floor.

The memory had replayed a thousand times already—whenever she blinked, whenever she dreamed. But wakefulness wasn't much kinder. If her mind wasn't occupied, it drifted to that night, and she hardly had the energy to keep herself busy.

Sighing, she looked back at the letter. She didn't want to deal with it right then. Whatever the Sender wanted could wait—maybe even indefinitely.

She lugged her bag over her shoulder, then sauntered out of her dorm. She had avoided Sebastian all weekend, but now it was Monday, and they would have classes together.

The Great Hall was nearly empty when she arrived. The porridge and eggs had been cleared out, and a few stragglers like herself rushed in for a last-minute breakfast. But Cassia was in no hurry. Slumping onto a bench at the Ravenclaw table, she buttered a slice of bread that was crusty from sitting out for too long. The last few days, Poppy had sat with her at mealtimes, but her friend had already come and gone.

Cassia's first class that morning was Beasts, so she'd have no choice but to face Sebastian, especially when they worked with Finch. Her stomach twisted, and she spat out her bite of bread, her mouth suddenly too dry to swallow.

Knees shaking, she left the table. She wouldn't go to class, and nothing could make her. Walking aimlessly, she slipped through the corridors, past the students and Professor Hecat, who reminded everyone they were all late. She ducked quickly out of sight, not up for a reprimand if the teacher realized she was skiving off.

She didn't want to go back to her dorm—the other girls would return sooner or later—and going to the Hospital Wing would be a bust. Madame Blainey would send her right out once she realized nothing was wrong with her. So Cassia trudged her way to the seventh floor and paced slowly in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. When the wall opposite melted away, she pushed through the door and collapsed onto a sofa the room had placed just for her.

The Room of Requirement had created a snug, little space with dim lights and a crackling fire. A shelf of books sat quietly in a corner, and several blankets were neatly stacked atop a squashy armchair.