83. Grief and its Friends

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CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE;

GRIEF AND ITS FRIENDS

─── 。゚☆: *. .* :☆゚. ───

"Cassie, if I see you poring over my brother one more time, I might have to call security," said Ron, as he and Hermione entered the hospital wing.

   Cassie paid them no attention. She bit her thumb nail, knees curled to her chest as she sat in the chair at Bill's bedside. He had fallen asleep a couple hours before, but Cassie could not bear to leave his side yet. She believed that if she left him for a moment, he would decline into a worse state of health and probably die. No, she could not leave Bill. Not until she was one thousand percent sure that he was alright.

   Moony had tried reasoning with her, at first. That it hadn't been a full moon when Bill was bitten; he would not even be half werewolf, much less a full one, like Remus. Bill might have a few wolfish traits like strengthened sense of smell or hearing, but there would be no transforming once a month. Everyone was content with this news – everyone, that is, except Cassie.

   "It's my fault, Ron," she said, for what must have been the millionth time since Bill had arrived in the hospital wing after the battle.

   "It's nobody's fault except Malfoy's," Ron said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She tilted her head to meet his eyes, but Ron deflated to realize that her mind was far away and her gaze empty. The gash that cut through the middle of her face was still fresh, covered with a bandage that had spots of blood staining it. Ron was convinced that Cassie had not moved in at least twenty four hours.

   "You couldn't have stopped it," said Hermione, nodding her head assuringly. Cassie looked to her, inhaling and shaking her head.

   "I was there," she disagreed. "I–I saw it happen. I could have fought Greyback, but.. but Bellatrix, she–"

   "She nearly killed you," said Bill groggily, rubbing his eyes and looking to the four teenagers. "Good morning. What're you lot lookin' at?"

   Cassie's nose and eyes stung as she inspected the scars decorating Bill's face. "Bill, I–"

   "I know, you're sorry. Blah, blah, blah," he said, rolling his eyes. "Cassie, you've apologized to me at least four times every hour for the past day. I've said it once, and I'll say it again; you don't have anything to apologize for."

   "I could have prevented it!" she insisted, cheeks reddening in what was either anger or shame. "I saw Greyback coming. I–I could have warned you."

   "Cassie," Bill interrupted, "shut up. Your apologies do nothing but make me feel guilty. If anything, I should be thanking you."

   "Thanking me?" Cassie repeated, her brow furrowed.

   "For saving my life." Bill nodded. "You brought me back to Madam Pomfrey in the nick of time, did you not? I could have bled out on the floor. So you did not put me in harm's way; you are the reason I'm still alive. Thank you."

Cassie gave him a misty-eyed smile, nodding her head quickly. She swallowed, then turned back to her friends. "Did you need something?"

"Dumbledore's funeral," said Hermione, her voice small. "Harry's in his dorm getting ready."

"Can I see him?" Cassie asked, glancing between Ron and Hermione for approval. They nodded hastily, knowing better than to keep her from seeing Harry while in grief, and led her back to the dormitory.

   The beds in the boys's dormitory were all stripped bare, as it was the last day before the Hogwarts Express would arrive to return students to their safe homes. Some had been pulled out by their parents, already in hiding if they were a Muggleborn or of Muggle descent. Hermione, like the ignorant Gryffindor she was, insisted that she had to stay. If not for her own safety, for her parents. It had to have been hard for her, Cassie thought, always without communication to her family. Hermione would have no idea whether or not they were in danger until the Daily Prophet arrived and listed their names in the Muggle Obituary, which was much too late to try and save them.

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