Ch. 39: Fever Dreams
Song For This Chapter: Without You by One, Two

"I'm afraid, Fred."

"Of what?"

"I'm afraid that I'm so deep in love with you that there is no one else anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think I can love anyone else as much as I love you."

"Not Hermione?"

"Definitely not."

....

"What's funny?"

"Nothing, it's just... I'm pretty certain that I feel the same way."

"Really?"

"Yup, you've ruined me for anyone else."

"Even George?"

"Oh, that doesn't count."

"Why not?"

"Georgie and I are the same person. It's like saying I love you more than I love the better part of me."

"Isn't that love?"

"No, that's infatuation."

....

....

"I love you."

"I love you too, Letter."

I miss you, so much, Fred.

     "Wakey, wakey," a sing-song voice chimed, pulling me from my dreams. I groaned and snuggled my head deeper into my arms, trying to hold onto the memory for just a little while longer. Though I knew I was dreaming, it was a memory of when Fred and I weren't in hiding, and, instead, we had been talking on the flat's couch one night a long time ago.

     "Come on, Elle," another person called, shaking my shoulder as I grunted and swatted at them with one of my half-asleep hands.

     "Go away."

     "Prop her head up, Jenna," Lana snickered, and I craned one of my eyelids open as she steady shuffled towards me. Before I knew it, two extremely cold hands were hoisting my face in the air, waking up my senses.

     "Jenna!" I cursed, pulling away and stumbling back in the chair I had passed out in, an impression of my head on the side of Fred's bed, when I had slept the night, every night, for the past three and a half weeks now. "For fuck's sake woman,  your hands are like ice."

     Jenna, wide-eyed, peered down at her open hands and frowned at them, like a pair of culprits. "Sorry, Elle." She rubbed her icy palms against her jeans repeatedly, trying to warm them.

    Lana pushed her way forward, pulling something out from the depths of her overcoat and shoving it, a rather large flask, in my face. It was the size of my forearm and as wide as the length of my hand. I could see my worn-out and positively shit-looking appearance reflected back at me in the flask as she held it in front of my face. "We got something that will warm you right up, don't you worry."

      "Jeez, Lana," I yawned, rubbing at my eyes as I checked the clock on the wall. "Drinking at noon, a little early, isn't it?" I stretched out my arms above my head and cracked my back, wincing as something ached when I did. "Where did you even get a flask that big? That's a warning sign for alcoholism."

      Lana scoffed and flicked the top off of the flask, shaking her head. The low light of the hospital room still managed to reflect the blonde and orange in her hair, somehow managing to make her look radiant, even though everyone else looked like Death warmed up. "What's that phrase? It's five-o'clock somewhere?" She grinned, and I finally got a good look at her face once the sleep had worn off, noticing the faint stitches on her cheek and under her eye where the last remains of a bruise were fading into her skin.

      "Gimme," I groaned, a crook in my neck panging in discomfort. "It was a bad idea to sleep in a chair."

     "It'd been a bad idea two weeks ago, now it's a little psychotic," Lana retorted as steam billowed from the giant-sized flask in her hand. She continued to hold it in front of my face. "You should come stay with Jenna and me."

      Arching a brow, I eyed the pair of them as Jenna smiled sweetly and Lana's face remained stone solemn. Gingerly, I took the flask from her and took a swig, concern for the mystery drink melting away into surprised as I stopped sipping from the flask and began chugging it.

     The hot coffee was almost hot enough to hurt my throat, but I kept drinking, immediately feeling better. After a minute of drinking, I pulled the flask from my lips and sighed, sinking into my chair as my bones warmed up to the drink. "Why a flask?"

     Jenna began rummaging through the room, looking at all the medical supplies and the plants in the window as she responded to my question, her voice light and chipper, sounding odd in this dreary room, as if Fred wasn't unconscious in the room with us. "You'd be surprised at the rules St Mungo's has."

     "For real," Lana scoffed, pulling up an extra chair and sitting down beside me, "the lady at the front desk practically tackled me when I tried to bring in a cup of coffee for you. 'It's not meal time!'," Lana shrieked in a shrill, falsetto tone. "Crazy. As if I was trying to poison someone or something."

      Taking another swig of coffee, I almost chuckled at the thought. "That's something I would have liked to see."

     "Hey! You smiled, that's good," Jenna cheered, sitting on the foot of Fred's bed. With his missing leg, there was a gap big enough at the end for her butt, which she promptly took advantage of. "Lana figured that the only way to sneak it to you would be in her pocket, so a flask."

     I nodded to their words, feeling a mix of emotions bubbling in my chest as they spoke to me. Happy, sad, amused, but mostly, I wanted to cry.

     Blinking back the dew in my eyes, I cleared my throat and scratched the back of my neck. I knew both Jenna and Lana saw my teary gaze, but I was grateful that they didn't focus on it. Clearing my throat, I pushed a clump of hair behind my ear, cringing slightly at my fingers caught in my tangled mess of hair. I hadn't really kept up with appearances these days.

     "So, where are you guys staying? School's out, and you both live in different countries."

     Lana shrugged while Jenna grinned. "We're shopping around, looking for a place to stay," Jenna said.

     "Yeah, right now we're slumming it at Blake's," Lana added, scratching at the bridge of her nose, a brow cocked as a thought crossed her mind. "Did you know she's really rich?"

      "Huh, so you're going to stick around for a little while longer, then," I smirked and shook my head, wrapping my arms around my torso as the room grew a little cooler. "Actually yeah, I did know that about Blake. But, Lana, aren't you rich too?"

      "That's irrelevant."

      I rolled my eyes at her, taking another long drink from the coffee. When I pulled the flask from my lips, I swirled it around, weighing how much was left, before I asked them another question. "How's everything, or... everyone?"

     Lana understood my question without me having to really voice it. Jenna frowned and lowered her head, letting Lana answer my question. "Well, a lot of people were killed in the War. About fifty or more. They were still recovering bodies even a week later; it's a mess." She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as she leant back in her chair, watching Fred's chest slowly heave up and down. "Seamus is fine, a little broken and bruised, but he works just fine."

      "I'm sure he does."

     Lana scoffed and flipped me off. "Also, no one that we really interacted with died, which is good--"

      " --you know, except for Lavander," Jenna interrupted, playing with her fingernails.

     The three of us fell silent for a moment, thinking her death over. For a moment, I could still feel the weight of her bones in my arms. The rigidness of her frame. The smell of her blood. My stomach churned and I pushed the thoughts from my mind.

     I downed the remaining coffee and let out a satisfied 'ahh', handing the flask back to Lana. "You guys have any plans for today? Surely, you're not going to stick around here and watch me twiddle my thumbs."

      "As entertaining as that sounds," Lana chuckled, "Jenna and I are going out."

      Jenna smacked her knees and nodded. "Actually, we stopped by to invite you. I figured you'd like to get out of here for a little while, get some fresh air! Plus, there's more coffee outside St Mungo's, if that sweetens the pot."

      A budding smile blossomed on my lips, and I felt genuinely happy for a moment, but I shook my head, patting down the clumps that fell out from behind my ears as I did. "I'm sorry, guys. Maybe next time."

     Jenna frowned, a small divot between her brows. She was concerned about me, and I knew she wanted to complain, to force me out of the chair, out of the hospital, out into the world, but she couldn't. Instead, Jenna settled for a heavy sigh, taking my hand in her, now lukewarm, one and squeezing. "All right, Elle."

      "L-a-me." Lana waved me off, her face pulled into a mask of fake annoyance. "Whatever, who needs you? We can party by ourselves."

      However, she quickly turned her words around by reaching out and wrapping me tightly into her thin arms, holding me close. Jenna jumped into the hug, entangling us in her arms and swaying, a mass of limbs and warm bodies.

        Once more, I felt like sobbing.

      They pulled away and offered me one last wave before closing the door tightly behind them. It was odd, but as I sat back down in the chair beside Fred's bed, I felt like a part of me left with them.

     Maybe I should have gone.

I could hear delighted screaming. Giggles and shrieks of joy and the sound of people running filled the halls. I was in my old house, where I'd spent my childhood. I hadn't thought of this place in years, and part of me felt guilty as I walked down the hallway, running my fingers across the white painted walls.

There were photographs hanging on both sides, but I couldn't see the faces. I didn't worry about it. There was a brilliant, bright light at the end of the tunnel and I was anxious to see it, to bask in it.

I craved that light.

Fred was at the other side of that light; I could feel him.

When I finally reached it, I was in my old back yard. There was a big Willow tree with its branches drooping down to the ground, shading a patch of grass where I could see Fred lying, folding a scrap of paper together, talking out loud to himself.

Grinning, I rushed to his side, the sound of wind rustling through the leaves of the Willow tree and the calls of birds filling me with hope. Things would only get better.

"Hey, you're just in time," Fred told me as I lay down beside him, crossing my hands over my chest and peering up at the sun peeking through the tree branches. "We're making swans."

"Swans?" I asked, chuckling.

"Dad says Grandad taught him, but I'm really starting to doubt it," a child's voice popped up next to me. Turning my head, I smiled at the little girl laying beside me, her wild brown curls splayed out around her head like a dirt crown. Her cheeks were rosy from laughing at the monstrosity that Fred was showing the pair of us.

I snickered as Fred gasped, pretending to be offended by her words. Taking the 'swan' from him, I handed it to our daughter. A beautiful grin broke over her face, the corners of her eyes crinkling. Fred's smile, beautiful even on her.

"It's all right, Dad. I love it."

I watched her, slowly becoming aware of the dream I was in. The joy evaporated from the air around me, choking out the love, the excitement. Frowning, my daughter's brown eyes connected with my own. "I love you, Mummy."

"I love you too," I whispered back, tears rolling down the sides of my face.

I want you, now that I know that I can't have you.

      I woke up dry sobbing with a mouth full of bed sheets. Sniffling, I pulled away from the bed and rubbed at the memory of tears on my face, finding that I hadn't actually cried as my hand came up dry.

     Across the room, Blake was taking down Fred's vitals. "Good morning, Liza," she said, trying not to meet my gaze. I could tell that I had been crying out by her refusal to address me.

     Clearing my throat, I adjusted the collar on my shirt, feeling sticky with sweat. "Is it really cold in here?"

      "No," Blake's voice trailed off as she set down her clipboard and came to my side, placing a cold hand on my forehead, "you're running a fever."

      Shivers wracked down my spine. I wiped at the sweat on the back of my neck and felt my pulse speed up. "I-I'm sick? Do you think it's about the... what happened?"

      Blake sighed as she shook her head no. Bending down, Blake looked me square in the eyes and firmly placed her hand on my shoulder. This was Healer Hall. "You're exhausted. You've been getting minimal sleep, been hardly eating, and haven't left this room. You're sleep deprived. My treatment? Go to bed. Not this bloody chair."

      "But--"

      Blake's brow sharpened, slicing off my words before I protested. "But what? Hm? You think that wasting away here is going to do you any good? You've been here for a month almost. You've been in that chair, this room. Fred is in the coma. Not you. Go to the Burrow, get some sleep, then when you wake up, take a moment for yourself. Don't come back here until you do."

     "Blake, it's not that easy."

      "I have the utmost faith in you, Elizabeth," Blake said, patting me on the cheek. "You both are going to pull through this just fine." Blake stood up and brush off her Healer cloak, clearing her throat. "Now, I'm going to leave the room for a couple minutes to return this chart and grab new gauze. When I return, I want you gone. You get me?"

     "I get you."

✧

     "Elle, sweetheart, welcome back!" Molly embraced me, hugging me tightly into herself. I winced a bit at the fact that I probably smelled a little ripe, but she was hugging me anyway.

     Blake had been right, of course. Once I'd left St Mungo's and was hit by the cold night air, I had realised that I had no sense of time, or what was going on in the world around me. I still didn't want to leave, but, for now, I needed to.

     "Thank you for letting me stay, Molly." I embraced her back. "Do you have a bed for me? I can always sleep on the couch."

     Molly waved off my question as soon as it flew at her. "Nonsense, dear. We're a little light on bodies these days, so you can sleep in the Twin's old room, if you'd like. George is staying at the flat-- on a 'blow-up mattress' no less! They've been renovating it."

      "I had no idea," I replied honestly, blushing. "I'm feeling rather tired, so I'll get cleaned up and nod off. Thank you again." Molly didn't respond to that, merely smiling softly and cupping my cheek as a retort before heading back to her room.

      It had been a lie. I'd only just woken up a little while ago, oblivious of the time. My days had begun to mush together, and now that I was back into the world, I was left scrambling to put my eggshell life back together.

     One piece at a time. That's all anyone can ask for.

Author's Note:
I'm going to be answering some questions at the end of this book. If you have any questions about my thoughts while writing this, any secrets that you want to know, or anything about my process developing the story: ask me! I will answer any and all questions.