Even decades later, she never forgot the first day she met him.
Pembroke College of Cambridge University was, simply put, beautiful. Ornate chapels lined an impossibly-green courtyard, and the warm student parlour enveloped every building in the vicinity its comforting ambience. Only a month into her first year at Cambridge University, Lynette had already fallen in love with her little college, and on that fateful day, she'd chosen to study in a pretty spot in the gardens under a great medlar tree.
With a stack of some hundred notecards and several pages of handwritten notes, she skimmed her readings for an hour or so before quizzing herself out loud. She got into a sort of rhythm.
"Disease that causes inflammation of the lining of bronchial tubes...Bronchitis. Condition of blood collecting in the pleural cavity...Hemothorax. A genetic disorder that primarily affects the lungs and digestive system--" she hesitated for a moment, stubbornly refusing to admit defeat and flip the notecard.
"Cystic fibrosis," a voice spoke. She looked up, aware of how ridiculous she must have looked talking to herself, and saw a boy ducking his head under the low hanging branches. He smiled, revealing his dimples.
"Err, hi," she said uncertainly.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly, "I overheard you and the answer slipped out. I don't tend to think very much before I speak." He paused, fumbling with the hem of his T-shirt, "you looked very picturesque sitting there."
She raised her eyebrows. "Picturesque? I honestly don't know what to say to that."
He cleared his throat and began gesticulating with his hands as he tried to explain, "Like with all those trees and flowers around you, all the haphazardly stacked books, your pensive expression... I'm just sounding weirder and weirder aren't I?"
She laughed, "No, it's fine. Do you want to sit down?" she gestured to the side of her that wasn't already covered with textbooks.
He dropped down. "Yeah, thanks. I've been needing a bit of idle conversation all day. I'm Harry, by the way. You?"
"Lynette," she answered. "What were you doing out here?"
"Just doing a bit of running." Lynette noticed Harry's heavy breathing as he leaned over slightly to look over her books. "So what exactly are you studying?" he asked.
"I'm in the medical tripos. The professor's testing us on pulmonary pathologies next week. What about you?"
Harry smiled, "I'm actually doing music. But I do know quite a bit about cystic fibrosis. Do you want me to help you study?"
She nodded thankfully. "That'd be great! I've got a couple pages of notes here but I'm sure I zoned out a couple times during the lecture, so I'm definitely missing some bits." She handed Harry her notebook and watched as he skimmed over her writing. He had a slight crease between his eyebrows as he read.
"Signs and symptoms?" he asked finally.
"Hmm...most commonly a persistent cough, wheezing, low stamina, and frequent lung infections."
Harry jumped in, "Salty skin, difficulty gaining weight, bouts of pneumonia...the list goes on." She jotted down his words quickly.
"How about treatment options?" He moved further down the page.
"Physiotherapy, IV antibiotics, enzymes supplements, nebulizer medications among others. There's also the option of lung transplant," she said lightly.
Harry frowned at the mention of lung transplant. "That's the worst case scenario. I'd add proper nutrition and exercise to that list."
He read the next line slowly, "Life expectancy?"
YOU ARE READING
Unfinished Perfection
Fanfiction" I just--I want more time, Harry. Don't you?" Lynette fought to keep her voice steady. "This--this isn't enough." Harry shifted and his eyes met hers. She could see that his too, shone with unshed tears. His fingers toyed aimlessly with his IVs an...
