Lustful Alchemy

27. SHARP

I open my eyes to the room just lit by the sun's rays trying to make their way through the closed shutters. It takes me a moment to recognize it: the bedroom of Cassandra's house in London.

I lower my gaze slightly to the feminine and sinuous body pressed against mine, wrapped in the blanket except for the bare shoulders, her left hand resting on my chest and the ring on her ring finger now vanished. Cassandra is breathing peacefully, still asleep, serenity on her face after last night.

It almost seems like a mirage when I think back on it, but she here in my arms and her naked skin against mine are the unmistakable signs of what happened. Of the fact that we really had sex. And I want more. Not only am I not satisfied with her body and how she makes love, but above all with her attentions, her care.

I don't know what I did to deserve all this, to wake up next to an incredibly beautiful and sweet woman. Cassandra with rose-colored lips, parted like a bud, which I kiss lightly before getting up quietly from the bed and letting her sleep, not without looking at her one last time. My Cassie.

I close the door behind me, smiling to myself, and head towards the small bathroom with the sloping ceiling. It is bare, but Cass has tried to decorate it as best as she can: candles, colorful sponges and bowls of scented potpourri, and to top it off, pink towels. Everything in this house speaks to me of her. Everything gives back to me her delicacy and care, the immense wonder of getting to know her day by day. Her desire to take care of something that no one else would believe in, to restore dignity to what would commonly be considered hopeless. Someone like me.

I let the hot water shower over me, feeling lucky for the first time in years and washing away the weight of sadness and loneliness accumulated over time. Cassandra has rekindled in me the desire to live, and this morning I look at the world differently: I open the shutters, flooding the small living room with daylight and a renewed light inside me. If only Matilda knew what I am feeling now, she would hold it against me forever.

I dress quickly after drying myself and open the bedroom door to see if Cassandra is still sleeping. She has her back to me, the beautiful line of her bare back disappearing invitingly under the covers. I approach to give her a kiss, and as I press my lips to her skin, she exhales a sweet sigh, typical of someone waking up.

«Rest», I say, kissing her again. «I'm going down to buy breakfast and I'll be back».

Her hand moves tentatively, searching for mine. I bring her fingers to my lips and plant a kiss on them too. I caress her hair and force myself to get up, so as not to stay stuck with her in that bed forever, even though it's the only thing I desire at the moment.

I grab the keys from the dish near the front door and close it behind me, descending the steps that separate me from the landing and the elevator. The day is particularly cold, with icy gusts entering fiercely through the cracks in the windows and doors of the entrance hall, and I immediately realize that something is wrong: my left leg, deprived of the comforting warmth of home, is stiffer than usual.

I can barely bend my knee, making it much longer and more difficult to move as I would like. I grit my teeth, pushing away the gray clouds of negativity I feel gathering around my mind, and almost hobble towards the elevator booth, which I call to the floor and fortunately takes me down without any trouble.

The cold morning air hits me as soon as I open the main door, striking my facial skin and testing the resilience of my body. I am forced to proceed slowly, practically dragging my leg like a dead weight. To passersby, I might indeed look like a war veteran—albeit a peculiar one, since I refuse to use a cane, an accessory very common among Muggles.

I could return to Cass's house and stay warm, but that would mean surrendering and giving in not only to the disability but to those who did this to me. To Dark Magic. And that is not why I chose to become an Auror, to fight Evil. That is not why Mabel died.