There are some things even magic can't fix.

For days I heard her words swimming in and out of my consciousness as I followed them, trying desperately to make them not true, not matter. She didn't know, couldn't know. Not for certain, anyway. Just because it hadn't been done before didn't mean that I couldn't do it now.

The three of us spent days in the library that we'd worked so hard to create and in the dungeons, surrounded by shimmering vapours and fumes that would make even the strongest constitution light-headed. Owls were sent off in all directions: giants, centaurs, nymphs; Godric even dived into the lake to take counsel with the merfolk who had recently set up a village there. I think he probably killed a few of them as well when they said there was nothing they could do. He came back out of the lake, dripping with water and a stern expression on his face, saying, "Don't go in there again. They won't be happy to see you," as he stalked back towards his tower room to get changed.

None of it mattered, though. She continues to lie there, growing ever paler in her cellar room. At least it's warm down there. Godric makes sure there's always a fire and she has lots of blankets... but none of it matters.

Every time I go down there she's smiling. Why is she smiling? You'd think she was enjoying this pain, this death. Why her? It's not fair, it's not her time! Of the four of us she's always been the good one. She looked out for the students that nobody thought had the drive or the talent to make it here. She protected them, made them her own, made them the best. And now something so stupid is just stealing her away from me.

It's just blood! It's inside her like I never could be! I can't fight what I can't see! I can't just jinx it out of her. I can't do anything and I can't stand it.

She can't get up anymore. I'm not sure that she'll ever get back out of that bed, her bed, our bed. The elves bring her food but she can't eat. She's too weak. I sit and read to her, though. She seems to enjoy the sound of my voice, low tones that wash over her until she drifts off to sleep. Every time she does I worry that this time she won't be able to wake up; this time I've lost her for good.

We gave up days ago, although none of us will admit it. We all know that Helga's dying and it's ripping us apart, literally. We're best friends and we're turning on each other for stupid reasons! I actually yelled at Godric the other day for putting the red instead of the blue ribbon back as my bookmark. We won't stay together once she's gone, that much is obvious.

I think it's finally time to go see her. It's time to say goodbye...

She can tell. I know she can. She knows I'm here to bid her farewell; to kiss her and let her close her eyes forever.

Of course, the little idiot in me won't let her. I beg her to stay, to fight, to not leave me. I tell her about all our fighting without here. I tell her the school will crumble once she's gone. She does seem sad about that, makes me promise to stay and keep it running. How can I promise something like that? Why stay? The castle's so empty without her in it.

She's smiling again! That soft smile; she's always so beautiful when she smiles… I tell her I'll find a cure. I just have to keep looking. It's somewhere in the back of a book or the bottom of a cauldron...

"Oh, my love." Again with that smile, "There are some things magic, even your magic, can't heal."

To hell with pride or any dignity I had left. I fall beside her, tears running down my cheeks, begging her, "Please, sweetheart, stay with me, I can't do this alone!"

"Don't worry, dear one." She whispers softly to me, "I'll wait there for you." She smiles and closes her eyes, squeezing my hand one last time, finally letting herself go, knowing that I'm as ready as I can be.

I would've made it, too, if she'd stayed quiet. Grief is one thing, but this was agony and those last words will haunt me until I can finally be with her again: "I'd wait forever for you, Rowena."