5
ONCE outside within the grounds of Hogwarts, Kya angrily stood rooted to her spot in front of the Black Lake. Her heart was still beating wildly against her chest as her hand shot to her heart as she looked around the beautiful landscape where Quirrell had spent most of his time.
She shivered as the cool breeze of the night air blew a strand of her auburn hair out of its messy bun. The grounds were relatively empty, as they were this time of year.
The children were set to leave the school come the morning, and much of the staff had already vacated the premises for the summer. It was nice to be out alone with her thoughts for a moment and the chilly evening breeze was oddly comforting.
As she strolled along the edge of the lakeside, her mind melted back to Quirinus. He was much changed since she had last seen him. His lovely dark hair that had always been so thick and brought out the color of his eyes had been shaved off, though it was already starting to grow back.
Once they returned home in a few more days, she could use her magic to speed along the process, and perhaps once his hair returned, he would begin to feel a bit more confident. She could only hope.
His eyes were a deep black that if one did not know him as she did, they would say they were void.
But they would be wrong to think that the wizard was void of emotion, as some like the Auror Jack Brennan would paint him as.
The horror stories she had imagined during the three-hour carriage ride from Denmark to the school had given birth to a vision of a twisted and warped version of her beloved friend, a brutal and savage-looking version of the man with the look of pure evil about him.
Quirinus Quirrell, however, her old friend, was tall and slender, but nothing monstrous, and he did not look evil, but it looked as though some piece of a puzzle was missing from his life, a piece she longed to help put back together, to heal him. If she was honest with herself, there had been nothing all that remarkable about Quirinus when she had first met the man in her grandfather's flower shop.
His hair had always been a dull walnut color, and his face was that of a normal, almost plain man, though, to her, he was handsome. She had thought there had been a moment, however, where she hoped it was a trick of the light when his eyes had flashed crimson in rage.
What had that been about? She shivered and tried to think of something else, not wanting to entertain the horrific thought that there could perhaps still be traces of Lord Voldemort within her beloved friend, and instead tried to focus on the much more lovely imaginative image of what the Hogwarts Grounds looked like in autumn.
She already was enjoying the walk she was taking to clear her head, but especially in fall, she could only imagine what the grounds were like and pictured the autumn leaves scraping the ground as the wind took hold of them, listening to the sound of the rustling leaves as the tall trees that lined the edge of the Forbidden Forest swayed precariously in the breeze.
Kya found herself hoping that perhaps one day if the Headmaster would permit his return, Quirinus would bring her back to Hogwarts during the fall. She was ripped from her thoughts when she heard her name being called and a pair of delicate footsteps approaching her from behind.
She spun around just in time to have to shoot both of her hands up to shield her face as a sudden blinding white flash of light assaulted her vision with no warning.
"What on earth…?" she exclaimed angrily, lowering her hand, and squinting to see who it was that had just taken her photograph without consent.
As her vision cleared and the spots at the edges of her line of sight danced away, the result of a bright flash from a camera shutter, dread wormed its way into her stomach and heart as she found herself standing face-to-face with none other than famed journalist Rita Skeeter.
The witch's clipboard was hovering just near her ear, and her black Quick Quotes quill was poised to write down any notes that the witch thought she was going to get from her. Kya's hand hovered near the handle of her wand.
Kya sincerely hoped she would not have to jinx the poison pen writer where she stood, she hoped that it would not come to that, but she could not—would not—let this witch slander her good friend's name if she could at all help it. The witch was well regarded throughout the wizarding world for spreading slanderous lies about those whom she disliked or heavily disagreed with.
Her poison pen stories left a stain on her chosen target's reputation once the articles she produced were published in copies of Witch Weekly or The Daily Prophet or any stand-alone books she wrote for the entirety of the wizarding world to view.
Kya knew better than to engage a woman like Rita Skeeter in conversation, the logical side of her brain was screaming at her to turn her heel and head back to the castle without uttering a single word to the witch. However, her ability to make sound decisions based on logic was now clouding her judgment as she felt overcome with a fierce protectiveness to protect Quirinus however she could.
But before she could so much as utter the first syllable of any given word to ask the tabloid reporter what she thought she was doing here, the reporter spoke first in a honey-sweet voice, shattering the suffocating and rather heavy and awkward silence that had since settled between them.
"Healer Ericksen, is that right, dear? I had hoped I might find you wandering about the grounds," she chuckled darkly.
Kya stiffened at the simpering sound of the blonde witch's voice. Just the woman's voice was enough to put her on edge. She knew types like this. Nothing Rita Skeeter said sounded sincere.
She clenched her teeth and kept her wand hand over the handle of her wand just in case but made no move to remove it from her belt. She wanted to lie, though something of the way the older woman was eyeing her behind the lenses of her jeweled glasses suggested that the witch somehow knew the truth of her identity.
She saw no reason to lie to reporter Rita Skeeter and heard herself admit the truth as she offered a nod of her head.
"Yes, I am, Miss Skeeter. What exactly can I do for you? How did you get onto the school grounds? Were you invited?" she questioned in a clipped voice, careful to keep her voice as level-headed as she was able to.
Kya watched as Rita Skeeter's expression shifted from a look of false pleasantries to something resembling a heavy scowl as her dark painted-on eyebrows knitted together into a suspicious frown.
It took the older witch a moment to find her voice again.
"You would be surprised to hear what a fat bag of Galleons and a refusal to hear the word 'no' can do for a journalist, pretty thing," Rita commented in a smooth voice that stuffed the chills down Kya's throat. "One of your neighbors when I popped by for a little chat was only too delighted to tell me the truth, that you were Dumbledore's chosen Healer for his Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. For Quirrell," she murmured, speaking her friend's surname slowly, as though tasting how the different letters of his name sounded to her. "As for why I am here, dear thing, I would have thought that was obvious. You seem an intelligent witch, Miss Ericksen, according to your neighbor, to know why I'm here," Rita hotly accused, giving her wand a sharp wave as she took a step forward towards Kya.
The black Quick Quotes Quill began to furiously scribble away, though whatever she was having it write down onto the clipboard, the contents were kept from Kya's line of sight, which she took as a bad sign. She hoped it was not an ill omen of things for Quirinus that were yet to come.
She did not know what she could do or say to prevent the gossip from spreading.
"Quirinus Quirrell is alive, Miss Ericksen, thanks to you," Rita Skeeter asserted in a cold voice devoid of any affection at all. "Considering the severe extent of the man's wounds and how badly I've heard that he has been burned, color me surprised, dearie. It's rumored that it was your love for him that saved him, yes? Surely, that little fact warrants a quote, don't you think, Luv? I do not think I need to tell you this little scandal surrounding the man is the story of the decade."
"I…" Kya stammered, feeling the blood drain from her face as her eyes widened in shock and horror as she looked at Rita.
She did not have the first inkling of what to do. She could neither confirm nor condemn the journalist's thoughts. She stood there, rooted to her spot, and blinked owlishly at the older blonde witch.
Merlin, she was trapped. The reporter had learned the truth somehow, likely from her neighbor, sweet and good Mrs. Kittredge who had always taken a liking to her father as a widower and when it became apparent that Kya was suffering from severe depression and not eating, that was when the Saturday morning baking started, and every morning right at eight on the dot, she would come over with some new recipe for Kya to try, and she would not leave her kitchen until Kya had eaten a plateful of whatever she was peddling that morning.
She was a sweet woman, with a good, good heart. Kya cringed to think of the thought that perhaps Rita might have resorted to bribery, or worse, perhaps even the Imperius Curse, to wheedle the desired information out of her. She knew women like Rita, ambitious types, especially journalists who would do anything for a scoop.
At this rate, Kya knew that she could only do her best to lessen the damage done to Quirinus, and perhaps, to a lesser extent, herself as well, and most assuredly Harry Potter, though the boy was only eleven and did not need to deal with this now.
A part of Kya hoped that following Harry's meeting tomorrow morning with Quirinus before he boarded the train to head for home for the summer holiday, he stayed away after that. She knew her friend would have immense difficulty with recovering as it was, and she would have to sit with him and prepare him for their chosen memories to relinquish to the Wizengamot as it was. She knew he did not need Potter's presence in his life at this given moment, not after all that had happened, he would be seen as a burden and potentially a danger to his health. Kya lowered her head as she felt a searing heat creep to her cheeks, though Rita Skeeter, to her credit, pretended not to see it.
"Yes," she admitted ruefully as she nodded. "He is alive. But I had nothing to do with the fact that he is alive, Miss Skeeter. He did that on his own and found the will to live. He is strong, stronger than most give him credit for. Merlin is good." She lifted her head and turned to face the tabloid reporter, her jaw tensing as she ground her teeth in annoyance.
Though when she addressed Rita, it was in a crisp and professional tone, the same one that she adapted back home at the institute where she worked when dealing with difficult family members who caused scenes.
"I am very sorry, Miss Skeeter, that you have traveled all of this way. But I am afraid that I have to ask you to leave. My patient cannot heal properly if exposed to extreme stress, and your hounding him for quotes and questions is the last thing Professor Quirrell needs. You will leave, now, before I file a restraining order, Miss Skeeter."
A heavy silence fell between the two witches as she left her threat hanging in the air between them. She could feel the tension in how this tabloid reporter was assessing her character. And Kya did not like it. Rita Skeeter's eyes were cold, masked with a smile, but something inside the reporter chilled Kya's insides to ice. She swore she saw the tightening of Rita's jaw. Hatred. Loathing. And all for her, but she did not know why.
Whatever her reasons, Kya found herself swallowing hard. Rita clicked her tongue, breaking the awkward pause.
"Well, then, dear thing, when you put it in those terms, I suppose I should…get going, Healer Ericksen." Rita made a visible show of hoisting her green crocodile skin handbag over her shoulder, snapping her long manicured fingernails and the black Quick Quotes Quill, and her clipboard promptly vanished. The journalist turned her back on Kya and made to leave, though before she did, she paused to look over her shoulder at the pretty witch who Kya Ericksen's neighbor, Elias Jameson, had launched into a half-hour story about. "Oh, before I leave, dear, I just have one more thing to say to you."
Kya waited with growing impatience. She perceived the other witch's hesitations as if the tabloid reporter never actually meant to give Kya her final parting message. Though the blonde witch's next words sent a chill down her spine.
"You are a beautiful witch, Healer Ericksen. Do you think Quirinus will find you as such, as your dear old dad once did?" she commented dryly, though Kya caught the hint of sarcasm underneath as all of the blood drained from her face. "What will your…patient…say to you, I wonder, when he learns your dirty little secret? Hmm? The things Daddy did to his precious little girl under the cover of darkness, and Mummy never breathed a word to the authorities," Rita Skeeter taunted in a mocking tone. "Is that why you became a Healer, Luv? Hmm? To heal yourself first and foremost by attempting to heal others. Does he know yet? The two of you were neighbors, close friends, perhaps even…lovers?" she questioned, though the moment she asked the question, Rita Skeeter was unable to stifle her gasp of disgust and choked on the word lovers.
For a moment, Kya was struck speechless. She opened her mouth to speak, but no answer would come up.
Her mind felt like it was reeling. She wondered how much information the older witch had managed to wheedle out of her parents' neighbors, what he had told her, perhaps had suspected of her life, years ago, and could only assume he'd learned the truth.
How much digging into her family's past had Rita already done?
The mention of her father and what the wizard had done to her growing up and she began to hate herself and she clenched her fists by her side, gritting her teeth, and tried to force her racing heart to calm down, though the poor witch was nearly hysterical at this point.
Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes, but Kya refused to let them fall. She needed to stand her ground.
But the little reminders of her past chipped away at her resolve. A wave of cold anger slowly overtook Kya's hurt feelings.
"You need to leave. Now," she voiced quietly, her words more of a hollow statement than a curt command. She wondered if Rita was planning on slipping in any tidbits into the book she was supposedly looking to write on her friend.
Though before she could command the older witch again, Rita spoke once more in a cold voice.
"Don't despair, Miss Ericksen. We journalists have our ways of unearthing deeply buried secrets. Surely, you don't need me to tell you this, dear. You seem intelligent enough to know. As for your apparent interest in Quirrell, dear, well, what was it then, a pity shag? Or do you genuinely care for him? Is it love?" she mocked, looking disgusted and crinkling her nose at the thought.
Kya felt her cheeks blaze with hot shame and embarrassment as at least a dozen foul curse words burned on the tip of her tongue, begging to be spat at the witch, though she wasn't going to say them, oh, no, she was going to shout them at Rita Skeeter with as much strength as her lungs could muster and tell the older witch exactly where she could stick her poison pen quill.
Rita watched the younger witch frown and furrow her brows. The ghost of a smile tugged her red-painted lips upward, though it took every ounce of willpower she had not to let it show. If this witch would not allow her into the Hospital Wing to speak with Quirinus Quirrell directly about his harrowing ordeal, then she supposed the wizard's Healer and close friend would have to suffice.
However, worming information out of the prickly little witch was going to prove to be a difficult task if what the young woman's neighbor told her about her was true, that Kya Ericksen was a guarded young woman, and private. The fact that she had managed to keep the witch engaged in a conversation this long was nothing short of an ordinary miracle. But there was hope for the young woman yet, she knew.
She was a patient witch if nothing else, and she need not give herself away too soon.
The journalist raised her thinly plucked eyebrows at the young woman who had become the subject of much gossip, many stories, in both her neighborhood back home in Denmark and in the wizarding village here in the countryside of England, Doveport, where she had lived, where she had met Quirinus Quirrell and had formed a friendship with him. She wanted to almost laugh at Kya Ericksen's obvious discomfort, but she knew that she could not, though Rita's thin lips twitched as she fought back a smile as the younger witch looked away, clearly frustrated.
It took her a moment, but eventually, Kya turned back around to face Rita Skeeter once she had willed her temper to cool off a little bit, and she turned cold eyes towards the famed poison pen tabloid reporter.
She took a moment to steady herself, desirous of giving off the appropriate emphasis for what she was about to tell the reporter with a penchant and desire to ruin as many lives as she possibly could and make a name for herself in the process. Then, her blue eyes turned steely and narrowed.
"You need to understand, and make it known to your colleagues at The Daily Prophet as well, that if you set one foot near Quirinus's home, near him, or me, during the process of his recovery and if you should cause him any stress that impedes his ability to recover…" Kya's fierce tone left nothing for Rita Skeeter to misinterpret. "Then you are going to wish that you had never taken up journalism as a career. Consider this your only warning to stay away from him. By the time I finish with you, you will wish that you were dead," she angrily threatened, surprised, and scared to hear herself speaking so violently and passionately when it came to defending her beloved friend and the man's honor she knew now she would have to fight to protect.
Gossip and slander were already spreading about Quirinus. The best she could hope for now was to shield her friend from the worst of the damage that was already done to his reputation. Kya's pale face never once changed from her mask of cold anger that she had perfected throughout her career as a Healer for Southview Institute for Witches and Wizards back home in Denmark, though she briefly considered perhaps finding work here in St. Mungo's Institute if Quirinus would not move to Denmark with her and wished to stay here.
Without another word to Rita Skeeter, Kya angrily turned on her heels and stalked back towards Hogwarts in the distance, parading her back to the older witch and leaving Rita alone to watch the witch leave.
Rita was left alone to sneer in the witch's general direction, but she did not need to be told twice that she now sensed her job here was done, for now, though she had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that this was not the last that she would be seeing of the prickly little Danish witch.
She sensed that with the return of the witch into the former Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor's life, she would have new stories about the man with two faces, dual lives, to tell her adoring public that was clamoring for the man's autobiography before the year was out.
If only Rita could have known just how right her intuition was…
Rita smiled triumphantly to herself as victory sang in her veins as she turned on her heels and made to head towards the Forbidden Forest, already planning her next attempt to get the full scoop. She knew who to pay a visit to next.
She was going to get that story her editor was demanding, one way or another, no matter what she had to do to get it…
KYA breathed deeply through her nose as she shut the bedroom door quietly behind her and leaned against the ancient old oak panel, her heart still beating wildly against her chest. What had just happened? She had never threatened another human being before in her life, save for one, within the first week of her and Quirinius's friendship, but that had been years ago.
She shook her head wildly to try to rid herself of the sudden dizziness that was stemming from her sudden bout of anxiety and making her feel almost physically ill.
She could not deny the tremendous amount of courage and gall it took to talk back to a witch like Rita Skeeter, who could ruin both her and Quirinus's lives and reputations with just one false quote from her Quick Quotes Quill, but she had not been thinking.
Her simple room in the east wing of the school where the staff quarters were located was warm and comfortable, a fire already roaring to life in the hearth, and offered a welcome reprieve from the chilly evening air outside. She slid down to the cold stone floor, using the door's panel as a brace for her back, and shakily knitted her fingers together. She tried to force her heart to relax by breathing in and out slowly through her nose. Eventually, her wild and erratic heartbeat slowed to a more normal rhythm, though it was not enough to quell the pit that formed in her belly.
She knew she was going to come to regret threatening the tabloid reporter, but she hadn't been able to stop herself from defending Quirinus.
There was sure to be an article splashed all over the front page of The Daily Prophet within the next few days, she was sure of it. She knew she had upset Rita Skeeter just now with her threats, but Kya would not stand for Quirinus's privacy becoming invaded while the wizard healed.
She chewed on the wall of her mouth as the pit in her stomach swooped and churned uncomfortably as she thought of the way Quirinus had looked at her an hour or so ago, seeing the momentary flicker of the red dart through the wizard's eyes and wondered what foul magic lingered within her old friend that she hoped to try to somehow exorcise out of him. She let out a shaky breath and opened her eyes.
What had that been about? He'd looked bewildered when she had held her ground, why that was, she had no idea, but it made her feel uncomfortable. Vulnerable.
Two things she had sworn never to be again when she turned seventeen and old enough to move out of her parent's home, which she did, and into Quirinus's, using her friend's spare bedroom and reveling in the secret fantasy of what it would be like one day if they were to ever marry.
A glance at the clock on the wall opposite her bed told her that Quirinius would likely be hungry if he had not already eaten. She would need to bring him supper relatively soon and ensure that he ate and check his wounds and apply another layer of the poultice, but for now, she needed a moment alone to herself to try to collect her thoughts.
Her mind drifted back to thoughts of Quirinus, seeing the red glimmer in his eyes, how his black eyes had glittered dangerously when he'd spoken of himself with such a horrible abrupt bitterness and loathing, that she had almost left the room, not wanting to hear him say such things.
The wild and feral snarl that was almost animalistic, that curled his lips upward and caused the skin to stretch on the deformed side of his face made the normally kind-hearted sweet, and gentle wizard look every bit the part of the monster that Quirinus now believed himself to be.
That was perhaps the moment that she had become truly frightened of her friend, perhaps for the first time in her life since she had met and befriended him.
She had always believed herself to be a resilient and strong witch, she'd had to be, growing up with what Father did to her behind closed doors, and Mother had stayed silent and let it happen, for 'the good of the family,' she had always said, not wanting to divorce the wizard who made life a living hell for their only child, for what reasons, Kya did not know.
Aside from Father, she'd never felt scared of another wizard before. It wasn't as though she lacked experience. There were plenty of times when some wanker would come up to her and leer at her backside. She had always managed to fend them off by behaving coldly, even defending herself with a well-aimed hex or two on occasion. But…
There was something dangerous about Quirinus Quirrell.
He was still the same man that she deeply, loved, but he was much changed since they had last rowed and then he had abandoned her in favor of making a name for himself, in favor of fame and glory over a life with her. He was now more volatile, unpredictable. Unhinged, even.
It was frankly too much for Kya to process all at once, seeing her friend so changed, but one thing was abundantly clear to her. He was different and not the same man that he had been when he'd left Doveport for Albania.
She was having trouble getting it out of her mind. The pain and torment that was written all over the man's newly disfigured face, well, half of it, was like a Permanent Sticking Charm. She was able to see the shadow of agony that Quirinus had lived under for these last few years, the likes of which she had never seen in her friend before, and it ate at her and broke her heart. She wished she could take the wizard's pain.
Kya swore that Quirinus looked ashamed of his past behavior when they had spoken earlier. She hoped that she did, but neither was she interested in helping him atone for his sins. He would have to do that himself, but she would remain faithfully by his side, no matter what, and ensure that he recovered to the fullest extent from the worst of his wounds.
She thought she was beginning to understand why Quirinus chose to keep other people at a distance. He did not want people to see that side of him, the weakness and vulnerability. She huffed in frustration and lifted herself off the floor and strode towards the chair in front of the small writing desk that was shoved unceremoniously up against the wall.
The chair was rickety and old and in need of a new leg or two, but for now, it was comfortable enough.
Kya was not aware of it yet, but her deduction on her best friend was one very few in the forlorn and lonesome wizard's life had ever dared to make, except for perhaps his grandparents and Minerva McGonagall, who knew him the best aside from herself. Kya was gifted with the rare ability to see past the surface exterior of a person's appearance and to the inner goings-on of those people around her. It was a unique gift that, as a Healer, came in handy. She had achieved something that no one else aside from McGonagall ever had.
She had held up the mirror towards Quirinus Quirrell and had gotten the upper hand. And it was about to have consequences, beyond anything that she could have ever imagined, though she was not aware of it yet.
Though in time, she would be. As Kya sank into the chair and leaned back against the chair's backrest, her mind drifted to thoughts of what the coming weeks would bring for her, serving as her best friend's live-in Healer, if Quirinus would ask her to stay once she could tell him the truth.
If he cared for her, if he loved her as much as she loved him. And what of the tabloid reporter? Rita Skeeter was sure to make both of their lives a living hell. Kya was confident she'd not seen the last of the witch.
Surely, that was a distraction to his recovery process she couldn't abide by. No matter what happened. She had Quirinus's health to think of, both mentally and physically, and she knew she needed her wits about her.
Stop being foolish. Skeeter will not be a problem. Quirinus is going to treat the matter with respect. He's an academic. He's a professional, just as I am. But if that were the case, why was she nervous?
Why was she finding it hard to breathe as the notion of confessing her feelings when the moment was right rendered her unable to breathe?
Why could she not stop thinking about the wizard's black eyes? The witch's conflicting thoughts were halted by a knock at her door. Kya nearly jumped out of her seat and practically overturned the chair, startled by the abrupt sound. She looked timidly towards the door.
If it was Rita Skeeter again, she had better brace herself to face the tip of her wand and have a restraining order filed against her. Even someone like her would surely understand her exhaustion and need for peace. But she knew she could not ignore whoever was on the other side.
With a very, very deep breath, Kya nervously crossed the room and opened the door just a crack, just enough to peer into the hallway.
A sigh of welcome surprise left her throat as she looked down and saw a delightful-looking little house elf in a neat and pristine tea cozy bearing the Hogwarts crest of arms on its breast carrying a heavily laden supper tray with two steaming bowls of French onion soup and bread.
"I's has brought you your dinner, Mistress Ericksen, and Master Quirrell's too, Headmaster Dumbledore asked the kitchens to prepare a meal and see that you's received it, Mistress," the female house-elf squeaked in a high and shrill voice, her large batlike ears perked up at the sight of the kind witch in front of her as Kya opened the door wider to allow the delicate little creature to enter her room to set the tray down.
Kya smiled at the house-elf, feeling a bit foolish as she watched the little creature who barely came up to her knee totter towards the small wooden tray that was by her bedside and set the supper tray on top of it.
The house-elf turned towards Kya and offered an awkward bow.
"Does Mistress need anything else from Tandy at this time?" she asked as she was already making her way towards the door, her ears drooping slightly. It was clear to Kya the house-elf was eager to return to the kitchens and resume her duties.
Kya quickly shook her head no.
"No. No, thank you. Thank you for bringing the meal, I appreciate it," she offered kindly, though she was only half paying attention to the elf's words, her mind still preoccupied with thoughts of Quirinus and Rita Skeeter.
The little house-elf bowed to her again and left the room quickly, for which Kya was grateful. She was not in the mood for idle chit-chat and was glad to be left alone with her conflicting thoughts once more. Kya settled into the chair in front of the fire with her bowl of soup and crust of a baguette loaf and ate slowly, trying to force herself to relax.
After dinner, she padded towards the bathroom, undressed, and showered. The shower itself felt heavenly, though she couldn't truly enjoy it. Her muscles ached, and there was a constant feeling of fear nagging at the back of her mind that what she hoped out of this arrangement of Albus Dumbledore's would not come to fruition.
That as much as she wished she and Quirinus could pick back where they left off, she knew that they could not, that the wizard was much changed, and convincing him to stay with her, that he was loved, would likely be a difficult task.
How could she convince him that she loved him when the man did not even love himself?
She could only think of what was to come in the coming hours when she went back to the Hospital Wing to check on him, and what he would say to her following their conversation. She scrubbed herself clean vigorously, forcing herself to step out of the steaming hot shower and into the frigid cold air. She let out a hiss as her bare feet touched the cold linoleum tile and she shivered, keeping the towel wound around her tightly as she padded barefoot back towards her bed. With deep, slow breaths, she tried to slow down the heart that was in her throat. She wondered if there was anything she could have done to handle the situation in the Hospital Wing differently, but nothing came to mind.
You did what you had to do. Now be strong. For you. For Quirinus. The man is counting on you to do this. Do this for his love. Kya tried not to think about what Quirinus's reaction was going to be the moment she stepped over the threshold of the Hospital Wing, and he saw she had returned. But she had promised him that she would not leave.
She wondered and sincerely hoped that his eyes would not turn red again and made a mental note to ask someone trustworthy at the first opportunity what their thoughts were on what was happening to the man.
Perhaps Professor Dumbledore if she had a moment alone. She shivered at the notion that Quirinus might lose his temper with her.
He might throw a fit or try to jinx you, call you names. His eyes might flare red again. He might lose his temper with you. Grow up and get over it, Ericksen. That man, he is not a friend. Not the man you deeply love. The man you love exists still. It's your job to bring his goodness back.
The words in her brain were aimed rather viciously at herself. It was how she used to survive her father's abuse and mother's disinterest. She would force herself to grow up before she was good and ready.
It was eventually how she had convinced herself to leave at seventeen and cut off contact with her parents after she'd threatened to expose her father, only returning home when both of them were dead and buried six feet under the ground.
Merlin bless his sweet soul, Quirinius had insisted that she stay with him then. He had been a godsend to her, never pressuring her to open up and reveal the truth when she had come to his doorstep in the middle of the night, in tears, shaken, hungry, and with nowhere else to go but him. Quirinius had let her stay with him without question and had never once pressured her to talk about her disownment from her parents.
She had stayed with her friend for six glorious months in a nearly happy fantasy, content to get through her days with him by her side and watching for Toma as the lizard roamed his house, all the while secretly imagining to herself what it would be like if they were to ever one day marry if he felt the same way about her that she did for him.
If he could ever summon up enough courage to ask her to marry him, how she would have said yes in a heartbeat without any semblance of hesitation. She loved him, no matter what happened to her or who came her way, no one could ever worm their way into her heart the way Quirinus had, from the first moment he had wandered in a daze to her father's shop. No one could replace him.
She loved him but wanted his happiness. If he was happy alone, if he did not feel the same way for her as she did for him, then she knew she would have to let him go, as much as it would hurt her to do it. Kya exhaled a breath, hoping her resolve to be strong would see her through this.
She froze as the realization came to her as she spotted her wardrobe hanging open and knew the dress she wanted to wear, the same she had worn the first day she met him, in the hopes that it would spark a memory of a happier time in his life and let him focus on that, on her for a change, instead of the hellish nightmare his life was now.
On the nightstand by her bed was a glass of house-elf-made wine, that the little house-elf must have poured for her before she'd left and had not paid attention, too distracted by her thoughts of Quirinus to notice it. She headed towards the glass and let out a sigh as she took a sip.
The alcohol burned her throat going down. She had never been much of a drinker, Kya knew this about herself, not with Father and his alcoholism, she did not want to inherit the same trait, and as such, she did not drink. However, a little liquid courage before seeing Quirinus again was well warranted, she tried to tell herself as she forced herself to drink it all, despite the disgusting taste lingering.
As Kya finished her glass of wine and waved her wand to cause the glass and bottle to vanish back to the kitchens, she dressed quickly and gave her wand another sharp rap causing a blast of warm air to emanate from the tip of her wand that she pointed at her head to dry her hair almost instantaneously. Once her hair was dry, she worked quickly to apply a natural-looking powder foundation to her face and finished dressing to prepare to take Quirinius his supper. At the very least, the beginnings of an understanding of Quirinus Quirrell and her friend's needs were forming in her brain.
Take care of him, no matter what happens to him, or me, she thought bravely to herself.
She nodded to her reflection in the mirror once she was satisfied with her outward physical appearance, until she was ready from within, gathering the tray in her arms and striding proudly out of the bedroom.
Kya was smart enough not to look back.
