Chapter 9: Daddy's Little Girl

Pages: 6

Words: 2, 010

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original Harry Potter characters, those are owned by JK Rowling, I own Akasha, Storm, Charlie, Lucifer, Dark, Phillip and Professor Danes (And of course the other names they go by and are known for). Thanks

Summary: What's happening to Akasha Black? That's the question on everyone's mind. All they see is her getting sick faster and faster, but what she sees is something different. Something which she labels as horrible...

"Whoa. Talk about pulling a Michael Jackson." Storm said as Akasha came into the room. She looked more pale then normal, because she was always pale for being part Gypsy. I guess that's what happens when you did all the dangerous things Akasha used to do.

Before what she did.

Before the 'accident'.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, Storm, Charlie, Lucifer, and Dark were waiting for her. Where Phillip was always seemed to be a mystery these days.

"Yeah. I know, but thanks for that." She said grabbing her books. She toppled over holding her stomach. "I think I'm...going to...have to miss out on classes...today." She squinted.

"Should we take you too the hospital wing?" Harry asked.

"No, I'll be fine. I just need to go to bed." She told trying to stand up, having to lean on the wall for support.

"You need a note from Madam Pomphery if you aren't going to classes." Hermione told.

"I don't think I'll make it that far." Akasha told truthfully, without another word (she didn't care whether it was rude or not, because she knew she was about to puke) she ran through the portrait hole, not caring if Gryffindor's heard the password.

But that was only the beginning of Akasha's sickness. It slowly became worse, not throughout the day, but throughout the week. She stopped coming to classes, and she would have no one come see her. She told teachers she couldn't even do her homework because she 'couldn't get to it' as she said. She told everyone who asked through owl that it was just a flew, but she was afraid she was contagious. Everyone agreed to leave her be. But one day, Malfoy (who else ;) was curious to how sick Akasha really was. He was curious if she was faking, and if she was really contagious.

Being a prefect, Draco was aloud to miss any class he was as long as he could be creative enough to find a reason. His reason for skipping out on Potions (which was a huge thing for him as Potions was his favorite subject along with advanced flying) was that he had heard that another Slytherin was feeling sick and he had to go and help them from an owl he sent himself during class.

Snape, being the Slytherin adorer he is let him leave without question, even though it was obvious that the owl was his and that he was lying.

Draco walked along the corridors until he found the portrait of who else but his great–uncle Wilfred. His uncle, knowing him, didn't even ask for the password and let him through.

He went to through the common room, where he found Pansy and Mildred skipping. He looked at them, as if this was an ordinary discovery. But didn't rat them out. Because they would rat him out just the same. He walked through the common room and went towards the staircase. HE was lucky he was a prefect, if he wasn't he wouldn't have been able to shove the prefect badge into the ground (into a hidden slot), grab it again, and walk up the stairs without it folding back on him.

On the doors towards the different dormitories the girls had happily put their names on them as creative as they could.

'Suky, Dory, Elise' was the first one. He knew she was with Pansy, and he knew Pansy was somewhere near the end. 'Pansy, Akasha, Mildred' it had all these happy faces and a pink flower was by Pansy's name, a purple by Mildred's and a red by Akasha's.

He put his ear to the door. He didn't hear anything to bad. But he did notice that she was coughing. It was a disturbing sound, because the cough was hollow, raw, and painful. But the worst part about the sound was when it abruptly stopped.

Draco opened the door.

"Akasha?" No answer. "Akasha? Are you there?" He looked to the bed which obviously appeared to be hers. Pansy's had pictures of celebrities, and to his dismay pictures of him all around the four posts and the surrounding walls. Mildred had the same, but on her mattress was a pink comforter, with flowers. Akasha's was all black and red, making it look really cool. Self drawn pictures littered the walls, along with rock stars and pictures which must have been taken back in Canada. Stuffed animals were also spread across her bed in a happy way, or that's how it would have been.

Now, her stuffed animals were thrown all over, her sheets, bedspread, and pillows were awry, and scratch marks were seen in her sheets.

"Akasha?" He called again. He walked through to the bathroom, which was attached to their room.

The door was locked.

"Akasha? Are you in there?" He started turning the knob and hitting the door with his shoulder. Finally, it fell through. Revealing the bathroom. There, on the ground was Akasha. She was unconscious, looking like hell frozen over. She was pale, paler then normal, and even though she was in her pajama's she was extra thin. She seemed to have hit her head on the floor, and vomit was coming out of her mouth. Draco went over to her, she was frail. He accidentally did a double take on the toilet.

It wasn't puke that was in there.

It was blood.

Akasha's eyes didn't want to open. She heard her friends having a conversation in hushed tones.

'Maybe she'll feel better now that her stomach's been pumped.'

'Yeah, if Madam Pomphery can figure out why there was blood in there in the first place.'

'That's obvious.'

'Well, Sherlock, answer that.'

'Because, she's sick.'

'She's sick because of the blood. Why was it there in the beginning?'

'Because she's a freak.'

"Thanks for that." Akasha said finally daring to open her eyes.

"How are you feeling?" Storm asked at once.

Malfoy was there, so was Harry and Hermione too. Where Ron was; was a mystery, and then the gang was there too.

"I still feel like hell."

There was a long drawn out pause.

"Why didn't you tell us what was wrong?" Harry asked.

"I-I didn't want to worry you." She shrugged.

"Well, are you-" But Akasha leaned over the side and threw up again. Madam Pomphery came over and looked at her.

"Merlin's beard! We just pumped your stomach!" She told.

"I'm sorry-" She cried.

"Malfoy found you. You had hit your head when you passed out. Gave you a concussion." Lucifer told. She looked at him.

"How did you find me?"

"I came to check on you. I heard you coughing through the door, and then it just fell silent. So I came in."

"But- I locked the door." She remembered.

"And I broke it down."

"You hurt your precious shoulder?"

"Foot actually."

"Sorry." She rolled her eyes. Again she started scratching her stomach and leaned over to puke once more.

"Where's the blood coming from?" Charlie asked.

"What Charlie, think I'm a vampire?" She laughed.

"No." He answered shortly.

"I don't know. I really thought it would just go away after the first day, you know, like something was bleeding in the back of my throat. Then the second day, I wasn't puking as much, so I thought it was healing. The third day it was even worse. By that time I had locked myself in there and I was too weak to reach the door."

"It's okay now."

"Not really." She said looking out of her peripheral to the blood on the floor. She got out of bed. "I'll be fine."

"Uh, obviously not." Storm said pushing her back onto the bed.

"Give me something to keep my stomach down, and I'll be fine."

Harry and Draco alone took her back.

"You've been lying to us." Harry said after a while.

"What?" She asked looking at him.

"You've been lying to us." He said again. "You told us everything was fine, and then you told us that everything was fine now. It's obviously not." He said looking at her.

"Yes, it is." She assured.

"Come on, just tell us what's wrong. Bloody hell, I don't want to come into your bathroom and see you like that again." Draco hissed after a moment. She looked at him.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean...everyone here was so great before I came along...I didn't mean to..." She was at a loss for words.

"Well, tell us now." Draco said looking at Harry. "By the way, I still hate you." He said just to make it clear.

"And I loath you. This is all for her." Harry cleared.

"Good. Just so we're on the same level."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." She said looking to the floor. Both Harry and Draco had noticed that about her. She held her nose down now a days. She didn't carry herself with pride, or courage. She carried herself with loathing, denial and depression.

"Try us. Unlike you we've lived in a wizarding world all our lives." Draco told. Harry looked at him.

"Try since Hogwarts began."

"Whatever. 6 years at least." Draco rolled his eyes.

Akasha looked around to make sure no one or no paintings were listening. She looked at them both before returning her eyes to her feet.

"Things have been...happening."

"What kinds of things?"

"As in, changes."

"Whoa, I don't want to know this-" Draco began.

"Not like that." She smiled hitting him in the arm. "Ever since I could remember, I've...I've been different. I can do things, other people can't." She told. "And I knew that I couldn't tell a lot of people that. So, I thought that with my, gift, that what I was feeling was totally natural." She sighed. "Ever since I've got here, I've taken a liking to the library. I looked up everything I can do."

"Which would be?" Harry asked.

"I don't even know. Just, symptoms I guess for lack of better words. And I found something. It suits perfectly, but, it's to impossible for words."

"Incase you haven't noticed, we live in a school where owls have their own room, quills are used not pencils, brooms instead of cars, floo powder instead of planes, candles fly at supper, golden plates suddenly full of food, and a bewitched ceiling. Nothing here is impossible." Harry explained. She shrugged.

"What is it?" Draco asked.

"I – I'm going under a...'transformation'."

"Transformation? What kind of transformation?"

"As in, things are happening." She looked around again. "Obviously, I've been puking up blood." She paused. "And, I'm..." She stopped outside of the portrait to say more. "Just...search Darkness, number 14 on the list in Nightcritters by Bebo Bock." She said before the portrait turned for her. She stood in the doorway.

"Unless you read it for yourself you wouldn't get it."

"Of course we would." Harry told.

"What are you talking about? I saw the way you guys were when I went crazy in the hall. No one understands me, and no one gets me nevertheless believes me." She hissed. "All you think about is that 'she's going to get better' and 'everything will be fine' but I'm not going to get better. I'm not going to be fine. I plan on dying in the next two years, sorry Harry. I'm going to be just like dear-old-daddy who never loved anyone." She said walking through the portrait hole. Harry looked at Draco. Draco looked back before Draco pushed him away and walked through the portrait hole with it swinging behind him.