For Build the Burrow on TGS (Bed: Write a story featuring the Draught of Living Death potion)
Beauxbatons, Barbegazi
Word Count: 535
"Ursula? Ursula, darling?" Phineas cries, rushing to his wife's side.
Ursula cries out, writhing on the bed. Her once beautiful green eyes are now milky, and he isn't sure if she can even see him. With a scream, she grips the sheets, her knuckles going white.
"Drink, darling," he says, retrieving a vial from the bedside table. "Something for the pain."
He presses the vial to her lips, carefully tipping it back so that the honey golden liquid spills into her mouth. In the early days of this cursed illness, the elixir worked within seconds. Now, it's slower, and Phineas has noticed more and more that it only seems to dull the pain.
"Phineas."
His heart breaks. Her voice is dry, raspy. Once, she spoke with the gentle tones of an angel, but those days have long since passed.
She lifts a skeletal hand, placing it on Phineas' arm, her grip weak. "I'm so… tired…"
He leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. The skin feels so thin beneath his his lips, more like the gossamer wings of a dragonfly than the familiar warmth of his best friend and wife. "Sleep," he whispers, pulling away and adjusting the blanket, making sure she's warm enough.
A cracked lips pull into a sad smile. "Not… Not what I… meant," she whispers.
"Don't… Ursula, I cannot lose you," he says firmly.
"So tired. It hurts."
"Ursula, darling."
He doesn't want to let go, but maybe there's nothing left to do. All he knows is that seeing her suffer like this makes him pray for his own death so that he may be spared seeing his beloved this way.
"Help… Help me."
…
Phineas grips the clear potion, brushing his fingers over the stopper. The Draught of Living Death.
Ursula's days will still be painfully limited, but at least she will spend them in a painless slumber. Phineas knows that it's the kindest route to take, but it hurts him to even think about it.
With a sigh, he faithfully returns to his wife's side. "I love you," he says.
She reaches up, taking his free hand. "I know. Such a… Such a good… man," she manages between small gasps. "I love you."
"Something better for the pain," he tells her, producing the potion, tears clinging to his lashes. "You'll be able to sleep soon, my love."
"So tired…"
"I know. I know."
He hesitates, torn. He doesn't want to say goodbye yet, but when he gives her the potion, she'll be very much like a corpse. Still, he doesn't want to remember her like this. He doesn't want his last memories of her to be filled with screaming and agony.
Phineas kisses her gently, his tears spilling from his eyes, leaving tiny puddles on her cheeks. When he straightens again, he opens the Draught of Living Death. It's just a sleep. Just a deeply sleep. But no matter how much he reminds himself of this, his mind does not settle.
He tips the contents into her mouth. Within seconds, her body goes slack. Her eyes flutter shut. For the first time in months, Ursula looks peaceful.
Phineas brushes his fingers through her silver hair. "Goodnight, my love."
