On the Edge of Great (Fanfic)

Chapter 17

Scorpious made his way up the steps to his dorm. He couldn't help the feeling that it wasn't prudent to leave Y/N alone— given what had happened.
He continued to make his way up, but each step grew more heavy. He looked at the step he'd just mounted. The dark wood blended in with the darkness of the night. He turned and proceeded back toward Y/N's dorm. He just wanted to make sure that she was okay— that she was sleeping.
Slowly, he mounted the steps toward her dormitory— one-by-one. If she were sleeping, he wouldn't want to wake her by his loud cranky stomping.
He made it to her room, unsure of whether to knock or not. He hadn't thought this far. He realized then that him entering might be deemed as creepy— no— not deemed— definitely creepy.
Maybe he could use legilimens— maybe he was close enough. He tried— he could hear faint whispers — some semblances of voices— but he couldn't hear anything coherent— and he definitely couldn't visualize anything.
*thump*
The hairs on his arm pricked up. The noise had come from inside of the room. It was followed by another sound — as if something heavily had dropped.
He forgot his hesitations — hand on the doorknob— and opened the door. At least— he tried— something was blocking the door. He whispered a spell to carefully move the item in the way— a desk.
A purposeful block? But why?
He was afraid to assume the worst, but as he made his way in, he realized he was right to assume such.
There she lay on the floor. She was on her left side, her left arm by her face— her fingers bent lightly. Her left and right legs were just barely parallel— with her left knee positioned above her right knee. Her right hand was a stabilizing factor— faced downward, lightly, close by her chest. Some of her hair lightly covered her face. A slight shimmer showed itself by her eyes.
His heart began to pound in his chest. He kneeled by her. He checked her pulse. She was still there. A slight, warm, teary sensation filled him as he lightly positioned a pillow under her head.
He carefully lifted her head, moving some of her hair from her face. His thumb lingered, wiping the tears that had formed about her eyes.
"Y/N", he whispered lightly, not expecting her to hear. There was something about saying her name out loud. The way the letters formed in his mouth.
He couldn't quite place what was going on— the noise— and why she lay on the floor.
He stood up, looking for a light blanket, when his foot kicked something. He checked the floor to see what he'd kicked— still not quite able to see, but he caught a glimpse of a glimmer. He knelt to better see what he kicked. In the darkness, his hand groped about the floor. He felt something cold— which made a slight sound against his nails.
Glass.
Upon touching the item, it moved from his grasp, likely under her bed, he'd figured. He pulled his wand from a pocket in his robe. He whispered a spell that caused a faint light at the tip. He lay his face against the floor, looking for the item. The floor under her bed was primarily bare, so it was easy to find. The glimmer of a bottle caught his eye and he reached for it.
Upon grabbing it, and adjusting to how cold it was, he sat on the floor, by Y/N. He examined the bottle. It looked like a medicinal bottle— the ink was a bit smudged, so he couldn't quite read it. He opened it, wondering if the scent might give him an indication as to what it was. As he struggled to get it open, he considered that doing so likely wouldn't give him any information to answer his questions. He nevertheless, got it open, for the chance that it would help. He took a whiff of the bottle— it smelled of candy— a fruity sweetness— but also— a stronger scent— the medicinal scent— that burned his nostrils and eyes a bit, causing his eyes to water.
He looked back at her. He closed the bottle and wondered what to do— what he should do. The bottle had been half consumed— but there was also nothing to provide indication that it had anything to do with her state.
He looked at her. A stillness— a peace seemed to overcome her— as she breathed. She inhaled , exhaled, inhaled over and over again. She was beautiful— special. He'd want no harm to come her way. He'd make sure that no harm came her way.
He leaned his head against the bed's foot, and allowed himself to drift into sleep.
As he slept, snow of him pondered, and whispered. He awoke suddenly.
He looked at Y/N, still asleep. The sun shone brightly through the opened cracks between the curtains. He checked his pocket watch. It was late, and she still lay there, in the same position that he'd seen her prior to his own departure into sleep. He'd found himself starved. But, also, there she lay— unbothered— still sleeping.
She can't be comfortable on the floor. Why didn't I think about this before, damn it.
He gently picked up her body. Her knees locked in with one arm and her upper body supported by his other arm. Her head fell against his chest.
How can she still be asleep.
As he lay her on her bed, he thought back to what could be wrong. The desk in front of the door— definitely not normal— not practical. She was generally quite clean, so why a bottle out of place— why was she not in her own bed?
Perhaps the bottle did have something to do with it. He scanned the room for the bottle, found it, and examined it.
He took another whiff— a really strong whiff— he could almost taste it, and then, found himself in a drowsy state.
Shit, shit— Y/N—
The panic brought him out of the state, blood pounding through his veins. He felt his pulse throughout his arms and legs, and his heart beat out of his chest.
"Y/N"
He called out, shaking her.
He felt her pulse— it was at a regular sleeping rhythm— slow.
Considering the panic that he'd just induced in himself, he wondered if doing so would bring her out of it. But how? Without causing her any harm— especially in light of the harm she'd caused herself.
He surely had some kind of non invasive approach. He considered his potions kit and figured she'd have one too. He looked around her shelves and desk. He located it— as expected— it was quite tidy.
He looked at a small notebook— perhaps notes. He opened it, not knowing what he was looking for.
Fruit-flavored sleep potion adaptation
He smiled at the convenience of such a detailed title. He read through her neat writing— looking at the overtly detailed procedure she described as well as her own personal commentary, which was written in a cursive hybrid which was both messy and lovely.
"It's yummy though— I'd drink a soda version", read one of her notes.
He giggled to himself, but then remembered why he was there. He looked through the ingredients list and found the active ingredient.
Fortunately, the counter was easy to create. He quickly put together a few pleasent smelling germs and the counteracting ingredient, crushed them together into a paste, and placed it on a clean cloth. He felt a bit of guilt for the mess left on her potions set, but he'd clean it up. He just needed to see her awake— and okay.
He folded the cloth and placed it near her nose.
Nothing.
At last, he reached into his robe and grabbed something cold and metallic. He wound it lightly, just a few times.