'And he's the best fuck that ever walked. He's beautiful - rich, in money and everything else; he's a rockstar to boot, trapped in the body of a fighter. And how he fought; at a state of turmoil with himself - somewhere inside his soul that only she...
CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN; this velvet glove... cast in iron
[ JULY THIRTY-FIRST, 96' ]
No one in particular,
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'Bitter tears pour down my face with an anguished storm of sighing, when my eyes chance to turn on you through whom alone I am lost from the world. Yet it is true that your soft gentle smile quietens my ardent desires, and saves me from the fire of suffering, while I am intent and fixed on gazing.
But then my spirits are chilled, when I see, at your departure, my fatal stars turn their sweet aspect from me. Released at last by those loving keys, the spirit leaves the heart to follow you, and in deep thought, walks on from there.'
The following two weeks were mostly undemanding, with the slight exception that was Hera's check-up at St. Mungos being scheduled for the same day as her brother's sixteenth birthday.
Hera and Sirius had gone earlier that morning with a barrage of questions that she felt had been left rather up in the air. Healer Abasi was said to have been otherwise occupied, leaving the couple with a practitioner they'd never met before. It was far from a comfortable encounter, and Hera didn't appreciate the heightened focus on her mental health. Positive though the change in approach was, it came far too late — four years, to be specific — and had she been provided correct treatment in her youth, Hera struggled to believe she would've gone down the same path of addiction, much less self-medication.
There were plenty of limitations to her recovery process and she was well aware of how severely it interfered with daily life activities. Needless to say, Hera didn't appreciate the feeling of being plagued by questions about her sex and work-life — both of which were next to nonexistent at the time.
Both Hera and Sirius let out a clear shudder when told to return the following eight weeks for blood-thinning injections (which she or Sirius were expected to administer themselves).
What was already a marred start to Harry's birthday celebrations had been made worse by the deaths now appearing daily in the Prophet. More often than not, the couple received the news before it even reached the paper and the same could be said across the order. Molly had planned a get-together at the Burrow that very week, refusing to let the grisly tidings bring down the mood entirely.
