Ella ○ Harry Potter

Seventy: Please Tell Me I Am Not Undone

A/N:

I rarely do this anymore, but I added a metalcore song (don't start it at full volume haha). I know it's not everyone's forte, hadn't been mine in years, but this song is just what I listened to when I imagine Ella at this stage. So yeah, if you don't like it but curious, there are acoustics covers and of course you can read the lyrics. This song is one of the best by TAA. The backstory for how it was written is what really connected the dots to Ella for me.

Thank you for anyone who still reads this, I know it's a long book, it sometimes go nowhere, and sometimes goes everywhere in a chapter, but I swear there's not a lot left. We'll be done before chapter 100. And I know, it's taken me a decade to write so far, but I really want to finish this book by 2026. I hope I manage to.

::

"Fever is unusual, I reckon she's shot her immune system and the stress causes it," a familiar voice reached through the fog, and Ella stirred, trying to drown it. She wanted back into the fog, it would hurt less there.

"Have you told Selim yet?" the voice that spoke made something stir in Ella's heart. She almost wanted to reach out, almost wanted to conquer the fog, and call out for help, but the strength and the will to do so disappeared just as quickly as they appeared. Out of the fog, she couldn't handle the pain. In the fog, she could breathe through the burning.

The reply must've come in a gesture, because he didn't say anything in return.

They had names once upon a time, the people right next to her. 

"We have to do something, she--" Ella turned her face toward the wall, her skin sticky with sweat. Her back ached. Her legs twitched under the sheet. Breathing took effort, like every inhale had to be fought for. One shallow breath at a time. "Ella?"

Before she could do something-open her eyes, part her cracked lips, or even scream in pain- something cold and wet pressed against her forehead. 

"What is it, Black?" another familiar voice spoke softly. A part of her head was so surprised at the tone, but all of her body was busy screaming. 

"She's still burning up," he sighed. "She moved again, so I hoped maybe she woke up..."

"They gave her potions to make her tired," the first voice, the one that woke Ella up said. "I've seen my share of withdrawals, this is not bad. She's doing fine."

"That's fine?" he almost laughed. A new wave of pain crept through Ella's abdomen, sharp and twisting, and she almost instinctively curled, but her body could not handle much more than a simple twitch. Her body screamed even in the smallest movements. Her bones felt hollow. Her muscles, bruised. She opened her eyes a crack, and could see the three men talking.

She laid on her side, empty and thinking her way to hell, again and again. But wasn't she already there?

Her eyes attempted to focus on one of the three, to make sense of which was who, but suddenly, Ella lurched, a low gag escaping her throat. Her stomach twisted sharply, and bile surged upward without warning.

"Move her-" Snape called out, his sharp pain cutting through the haze as the bile burned Ella's throat. Yamac was quick to be at her side, moving her so she would lay on her side properly, afraid she'd choke on her own vomit. The pain in her body increased as she spluttered out whatever little remnants there was still in her stomach. When Snape peered, he'd realized it must've been nothing but acid.

Her whole body was shuddering with the effort, and when it stopped, she slumped, panting weakly, the fever making her skin blaze again. Her hair clung to her face, damp with sweat and tears, and the sheets were streaked with sickness.