Author's Notes: I can hear crickets here.

Chapter VI

Friday at lunch.

When Alice and Susan made their way towards Hugo at lunch, they looked like their heads were about to explode, for their cheeks were an angry crimson colour and their nostrils were flaring so much, Hugo was surprised not to see steam coming out of them.

He barely raised his eyes from his roast beef. "Ladies," he acknowledged them rather coolly. They had already cornered him everywhere that week – the Gryffindor table, the Common Room, every single lesson they had in common, the ones they didn't have in common, the boys' bathroom, his dorm. Every time trying to saddle him with some sort of silly present for Lily or a card that she wouldn't have been able to read anyway, and that she would probably tear to pieces if she knew that it came from another girl.

"We had Divination this morning," said Alice heatedly.

Hugo cocked an eyebrow. "And?" he asked calmly. "Did you Divine how I'm going to die and now feel the urge to tell me?"

"Oh, we know how you're going to die," snapped Alice.

"Killed by us!" added Susan just as crossly.

Hugo sighed. "Was that at the bottom of your cup of tea? You know, I don't really think that Professor Trelawney washes those cups at all."

They ignored him. "We walked past the Prefects' Bathroom after Divination," said Alice.

"Yes, and Lily's wailing could be heard for the whole floor!" added Susan.

"What did you do to her? You monster!"

Hugo looked at them as they got angrier by the second. He didn't pay their anger any mind though. However, their words made their way to his brain and left him breathless. Lily was wailing! His Lily was crying and he was not with her! He pushed back from the table and grabbed his books under the bench.

"Where are you going?" asked Susan scandalised. "We're talking to you!"

He grunted nothing of comprehensible and ignored their outraged cries. He even ignored Mark Goldstein as he sniggered with his friends when he walked past him, all he cared about was to get to the Prefects' Bathroom and take Lily in his arms to calm her down. Why hadn't he sensed that she was unhappy? He should have sensed that! Where was the Mating Magic when he needed it?

"It must be about yesterday!" he growled under his breath.

When he had found Lily – in her house at the bottom of the tub – she had looked very nervous, almost upset about what he had asked her in front of Victoire. She had shied away from his kisses and his hugs and had begged him to leave her.

He had complied, and when he had emerged from the tub he was surprised to find that Victoire was still there. She had looked at him like his mother would, and when he snapped at her to get lost, it sparked an actual fight that had both of them screaming at each other things that they surely didn't mean. She told him he was an egoistic, sex-starved teenager, and he told her that he wished Lily would just come out there and grab her and drown her.

They had both stopped fighting after that. Victoire too shocked to actually do anything but burst into tears and walk out of the bathroom, and Hugo too upset to even find the words to apologise. He knew he didn't mean it, he was sure it was just Lily's Mating Magic. Victoire was standing between the two of them, and he had wanted to hurt her to get rid of her.

And he had managed that perfectly well, even though that morning he had felt the urge to write a letter to his cousin, apologising for his hurtful words.

He had been quite horrible to her, he recognised that.

He jumped the last few steps that led to the Fifth Floor and hurried the last few feet that divided him from the bathroom. He slid on the floor and stopped rather abruptly, grasping the handle of the door to come to an alt. He pushed against the door with all his forces, but the door didn't budge, and he was sent back rather roughly, falling on the floor with books tumbling all around him.

He shook his head, confused, and pushed himself up again. He walked back to the door and tried to push it open once more. Still the door didn't move.

"No," he growled, pushing more insistently. "No. No. No!" He bumped his fist against the wood and let out a frustrated cry. No sound answered him from inside. He started to bump his fist with a frantic rhythm, until he felt splinters driving into his skin. He ignored the pain in favour of making more noise. "Lily!" he called her. "Lily! Lily!"

Still he got no reply.

He stepped back and drew out his wand, pointing it at the door he blurted out all the spells that he thought might have had some sort of effect on it. From the Unlocking Charm to the Blasting Curse, and still nothing happened.

He let out a frustrated cry that had a group of Second Years hurrying past him. When he understood that nothing he could do would let him in, he finally stalked away.

oOoOo

Friday right after lunch.

"You said I was allowed to see her!" Hugo cried as he burst into the Headmistress' office. "You said that!"

Professor McGonagall, barely raised her eyes from the piece of parchment she was working on. "I did," she replied calmly, as if she had expected Hugo's visit any time now.

"Then why did you lock the door?" he shouted, going to the desk to bump his fist over the polished wood.

A crimson stain blushed on the piece of furniture. Professor McGonagall eyed it warily. "Mr Weasley, you're bleeding."

"I don't care!" he shouted almost to her face.

"Do you even feel the pain?" she asked, finally looking up from the parchment.

"No!" he replied truthfully. "I'm perfectly fine! But you said I was allowed to see Lily every day! I am perfectly fine, I need to see her!"

"I'm glad to hear—even though I hardly think that's the truth—that you're perfectly fine," she replied calmly, leaning her back against her chair. "But Miss Potter is not, and I'm afraid we have to suspend your daily visits to her for a day or two."

Hugo felt the rage boiling its way up to his head. "You talked to Victoire!" he barked. "She told you a bunch of lies! She doesn't understand anything!" He was sorry now that he had apologised to her.

"I talked to Mrs Lupin, yes," agreed Professor McGonagall, "but that's not why we're suspending your visits to Miss Potter." She took a deep breath, as though she was about to say something that Hugo wouldn't like, and he was sure that was exactly the case. "Miss Potter herself asked that you were not allowed into the bathroom again." She sighed and added, "For a while at least."

Hugo's lips parted in surprise, then he shook his head forcefully. "No," he said, his voice a throaty murmur now, "no, you're lying. She would never… never say those things."

"She's worried for your well-being, Mr Weasley," she told him, "more than you are."

"I'm perfectly fine," he replied mechanically.

"I don't think you are," replied Professor McGonagall gently, nodding towards his hand. "Miss Potter is afraid she might harm you in some way, and she doesn't want that."

"She's not going to harm me," he told her in a whisper, "tell her that, please."

"Why don't you go to the Hospital Wing to have your hand healed, Mr Weasley?" asked the Headmistress. "And then we'll talk about that."

Hugo wanted to scream at her to take down the wards around the bathroom, to let him see her, to let him talk to her. Surely she would come around if he talked to her. However, when he opened his mouth to do just that, he gasped and brought a hand to his head, just where a blinding pain was spreading in his temples.

"Are you all right, Mr Weasley?" asked Professor McGonagall, her voice suddenly distant.

He tried to reassure her that he was perfectly fine, but no sound escaped his lips.

Then he fell to the floor, and everything went black.

oOoOo

The night between Friday and Saturday.

When Hugo woke up, it was the dead of night. The Hospital Wing was deserted, and even the light that usually came from Madam Pomfrey's office was off. He tried to remember what had happened, but after his talk with the Headmistress, everything was definitely hazy.

He remembered Madam Pomfrey fussing over him, and Hagrid coming to cheer him up. He remembered Mary asking the Headmistress if her boyfriend could be considered the new Head Boy, and he remembered his Quidditch team coming to ask him how they were supposed to beat Slytherin next Sunday without Lily and their Captain.

Hugo just grunted in reply to all of them, until even the last and most tenacious visitors – Alice and Becky – finally decided to leave him alone. He fell asleep again, and for the first time his dreams were not haunted by Sirens and the sea, nor did Lily's melodious voice resound in his mind throughout the night. Au contraire, he couldn't hear her voice at all.

For a moment fear gripped his guts. Was she dead? Had she killed herself because she was scared to harm him? Was that why her magic felt much less strong than usual?

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on her, on mermaids, on the sea, on the feeling of her smooth tail and her soft lips. He took a deep breath of relief as he managed to feel her. It was faint and he was sure that he would be able to push the feeling to the back of his head whenever he wanted, but if he focused long enough he could still feel Lily and… and she wasn't happy. No, not at all. Suddenly, a breath-taking feeling of sadness and discomfort pervaded Hugo.

He pushed the covers back and hastily stood up, only to collapse back again on the bed. He took some deep breaths and searched blindly for his clothes, pushing his jumper over his pyjamas and shivering slightly as he placed his naked feet on the chilled floor.

He stood on tiptoes without even knowing why, and made his way to the door. Wand in his hand, he muttered a "Lumos," and hurried to the Fifth Floor. He had no idea how to get into the bathroom, but he decided he would try all the spells that he hadn't tried the day before. If that didn't work, he would just sit out of the door and wait for the first person that came in there the morning after, and he wouldn't move until they let him in to see Lily.

He was nodding resolutely in the dark, when he turned a sharp corner and stopped dead. He extinguished the light on his wand and held his breath. The door to the Prefects' Bathroom was ajar, and a dim light was filtering into the corridor.

Hugo felt his heart speed up. He couldn't believe his luck. He pocketed his wand and slid against the walls, towards the door.

"…there, there, Miss Potter, is it a bit better?" Madam Pomfrey was saying.

Sobs and heaves let the Healer – and Hugo – know that it was not. He felt his heart clench as he listened. She was sick! Lily was sick!

"Oh don't you worry," said Madam Pomfrey, "it'll pass soon." There was a soft rubbing sound, as if the Healer was touching Lily comfortingly, then more vomiting and more sobs. Hugo caressed the idea of walking in there and Stunning the Healer to be alone with Lily.

He didn't act on it, though. He waited patiently by the door, gritting his teeth every time she sobbed more loudly, and trying hard to peer at her through the door without managing to. Luckily, Lily's heaves seemed to diminish with time and soon all he could hear was the occasional sloshing of the water or a sob.

"There, Miss Potter," said Madam Pomfrey at some point, "why don't you try to rest a little? I'll bring you a nice cup of tea first thing in the morning."

Lily mumbled a reply that Hugo didn't quite catch, and then Madam Pomfrey's slow steps neared the door. He stepped back, until he found his way behind a tall column from where he could still see the door.

Madam Pomfrey walked out with her arms full of bowls and empty ampoules. A sack filled with fabrics floated at her feet and followed her as she made her way towards the corridor.

Hugo held his breath and tried to keep his excitement at bay as he noticed that she was already walking away before waiting for the door to close, probably absolutely sure that she was the only person walking around the castle at that time of night. He waited for her to walk past the column before he wormed out and hastily stuck his foot between the door and the doorframe.

Madam Pomfrey didn't even notice that the lock didn't catch, nor that the door didn't actually close, she just kept walking away, sighing and shaking her head.

Hugo waited for her to turn behind a corner before he pushed the door open again and slid inside. He accompanied the door until it closed as quietly as it could and sighed in relief as the lock caught, a soft, euphoric chuckle leaving his lips.

His happiness didn't last, though, because when he glanced at the bathtub, he gasped at the view before him.

Lily was there, her pale face lay against the edge of the tub, her hands grasped the tiles but she seemed too weak to be able to hang on to them. Her eyes were closed and she looked like she was having difficulties breathing. There was a bowl on the floor and Hugo could just imagine why Madam Pomfrey had left it there.

"Lily," he murmured as he walked towards the tub. His heart clenched at the sight of her tail floating on the surface. It made her look like a dead fish.

"Lily," he repeated as he hurried to her side. He sat on the tub's rim near her head and placed a hand on her shoulder.

She opened her eyes a little, and now he could see the familiar brown that was pushing away the blue in her irises. "Hugo," she murmured feebly. He was surprised when she moved though, for she still was agile despite her situation. She hugged his waist and soaked his lap with her tears and her wet hair.

"Hey, hey," he said soothingly, caressing her hair and shoulders, "hey, I'm here now. Don't you worry, Lily, I'll take care of you."

She sobbed and nodded, but didn't look up at him.

"Are you… are you transforming back? Is that why you're sick?" he asked her gently.

She nodded again and leant her head on his lap. "It's the food," she sobbed, her voice very much her old one, "I can't eat mermaid food, nor human food yet, and I'm sick." She sobbed more loudly. "I threw up all the fish I ate today."

"Oh," was all he could reply, his hands still caressing her head. "But you can… you can talk properly again," he said soothingly.

She nodded. "And my tail shrunk too," she said, before looking up at him. "And I don't feel the burning desire to mate you and kill you anymore," she added in a whisper, her cheeks colouring a little.

He blinked. "Oh, okay," he replied softly, "that's good… I guess…"

She furrowed her brow, raising her head a little from his lap. "You guess?" she asked in disbelief. "You'd rather have me killing you?"

He shook his head hastily. "No, no, of course not," he replied, "it's just… never mind, I was just being stupid."

She grasped his jumper. "No, tell me," she whispered, "why did you say that?"

He looked away from her and, taking a deep breath, he confessed, "I just still really quite… you know… I just feel a bit… I kind of like you still a bit… I guess, and to know that you don't like me anymore, I mean… it's kind of not nice for me at the moment… probably in a few days I won't like you anymore as well and it'll be fine, but hearing you saying that you don't like me anymore… well… you know…"

She blinked at him, then she rose a bit from the tub, her pale chest coming into view. Hugo swallowed.

"Who says I don't like you anymore?" she asked softly.

"You just did," he pointed out. Hadn't she?

She smiled gently. "I said that I don't feel the urge to mate you and kill you," she reminded him, "but I… I…"

"Yes?" he asked in a breath.

She lowered her eyes, but he placed a finger almost frantically under her chin to make her look up at him. "I still like you," she confessed, "I… I still like you that way…"

He felt a wave of relief crashing over him. "Do you remember what happened these past few days?" he asked softly.

She brought both hands to her face and groaned. "Yes, everything! So embarrassing," she muttered, her mind probably going to the moment she was about to give him head or at his admission that he had wanted to kiss her.

He laughed out loud, relieved at her confession and amused by her reaction. He wrapped her in his arms and hugged her tightly to his chest, until she gasped for air, only then he let her go a little. He lowered his head and brushed his nose against hers. "Nothing to be embarrassed about," he whispered. "It was not our fault, it was your magic. All those kisses, touches, confessions…" He smiled softly at her, feeling like he just wanted more kisses, touches and confessions right at that moment though. "They did feel good, though…" he added softly.

She smiled back at him. "I know. I wish…" Her voice trailed away as she flushed.

"What?" he asked gently.

She shook her head. "It's silly," she replied.

"Nothing you say is silly," he whispered.

She shook her head again. "What do we do now?" she asked with a sigh. "I mean, I regained my human mind, that's for sure, but I feel… I feel…"

"Yes?" he breathed.

She looked at him, eyes wide. "I feel so much in love with you," she murmured, before snorting a, "Stupid magic…"

He smiled dumbly at her. "Good," he replied, "because I feel so much in love with you too, still." He tugged some of her hair away from her pale face. "Listen, all we have to do is wait for your magic to wear off, and when it does everything'll be back to normal." He grinned. "In the meantime…" He tried to kiss her, but she shied away.

"No, Hugo!" she complained, placing a hand on his mouth, "I've been sick all day."

He kissed her fingertips and smiled, but she darkened all of a sudden.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "Are you not feeling well again?"

"No, no," she replied, "I just… Madam Pomfrey said that it would wear off once my mind changed back from mermaid to human, but instead we're both still affected by it. What if it doesn't wear off?"

He grinned. "Then I'll marry you in two months' time and we'll live in a hut by the sea," he chuckled.

She looked up at him, trying hard not to laugh. "Hugo! Honestly! This is a serious matter."

He sighed and nodded in agreement. "If it doesn't wear off, we'll talk to Madam Pomfrey and with all the Healers in St Mungo's." He glanced at her and whispered, "If we want to do something about it…"

She nodded softly. "Yeah, if we—" She suddenly brought a hand to her mouth, her complexion turned first very pale and then green, and then she was grasping the bowl to puke some more scales and fishbone pieces into it.

He rubbed her back soothingly. "You're alright, better out than in," he told her.

When she finished throwing up, she let him limply manoeuvre her onto his lap as he slid into the tub and sat on the higher rock, leaning his back against the tiles and placing Lily against his chest.

She wrapped her arms around his torso and positioned her head on his shoulder, she fell asleep much quicker than he did, and Hugo was just happy to stare at her tired face for hours before sleep claimed him too.