thirty-three

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NO ONE LIKES TO HEAR someone vomiting. Valid as that may be, it is much, much worse being the one doing said vomiting.

The nightmares had started two weeks ago; she'd told her friends that she'd be fine to sleep alone, and the horrid dreams had started.

Now, back at Hogwarts, the nightmares still persisted. Most days now started with her head bowed over the toilet bowl long before the sun rose as she threw up her stomachs contents from the night before.

Each night, she would feel that pain all over again. Each morning, she awoke with the memory of pain, just like she had when she'd been kidnapped. It was as if she never truly escaped.

Ever since she had arrived back at Hogwarts, she had been trying not to let them affect her schoolwork. It hasn't yet, but it had affected her training with Theo. She gave him a bullshit excuse every time he asked when they were going to train next. She channelled that extra pent-up energy into Quidditch. 

The dreams were so horrid that she'd wake drenched in sweat, a scream lodged in her throat. She'd swallow her scream only for bile to begin its crawl. Shooting up from her bed, she would make her way into the bathroom she shared with her dormmates, and puke until she was dry heaving.

Celestia had thought she'd gotten away with not waking or alarming her dormmates. Though, she was proven wrong when the bathroom door slowly creaked open.

She raised her head from where it was leaning against her arm on the toilet seat, and was greeted by Pansy's solemn face. Neither said a word as she approached her, lowering herself down behind her.

Pansy pulled Celestia's dark hair into a makeshift ponytail, wrapping it around her fist. Cold air tickled her sweat slick neck, and she shivered.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't let you continue to do this alone," said Pansy quietly.

"You know?" Celestia croaked.

She nodded, still speaking softly. "I know."

"Do"—she coughed into the toilet—"do the others know?"

This time Pansy shook her head, her hand still in her friends hair.

"No. They just think you're getting up early for some new health regimen."

Celestia nodded, leaning her head against her arm again. The nausea had begun to subside, her stomach run dry and raw, but she still didn't feel any better.

She wished instead that she was hungover from the night before, like Pansy clearly was, but the headache paled in comparison to what she felt now.

Just yesterday, the Slytherin Quidditch team had played against Gryffindor. And for the first time in five years, the Slytherins had won.

It had been an intense match since the moment the two captains had stepped up to each other, shook hands, and squeezed. Harry Potter versus Celestia Black; equal footing, and no way that they could get in trouble.

Dean Thomas had replaced Katie Bell, and fit in with their team surprisingly well. Most of the game had just been the Quaffle passing between Chasers, scoring, then repeating.

They'd been tying, seventy to seventy. Ginny Weasley was good, but Celestia was better. Especially with Theo at her side.

At that point, whoever got the Snitch would win. And when Zacharais Smith, the new Quidditch commentator, announced that the two Seekers were now supposedly vying for the small, golden ball, time seemed to slow.

Celestia hadn't let herself stop speeding down the pitch to where Ron Weasley guarded the goals with the Quaffle under her arm. She didn't want to jinx winning, or waste time if neither of them ended up with the Snitch.

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