27. Truth Untold (EDITED)

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As it turned out, finding an antidote for her condition would prove to be a little more complicated than for her to just 'try and fight it', as Severus had asked Aurora to do.

Over the next week, her condition only worsened. The second challenge of the Triwizard Tournament came and went, but Aurora wasn't aware of anything besides the next symptomatic stage of the poisoning. Its effects worsened considerably, ranging from fever spikes, profuse nose bleeds, epilepsy-like attacks that resembled seizures, and painful cramps which had her ailing and agonizing.

Time seemed to blur, and she was hardly aware of anything going on around her. Severus still had classes, but the teachers had been informed of her situation, and Aurora was often in the company of Albus or Professor McGonagall.

The Transfigurations professor seemed quite troubled by the poisoning of one of her students. Minerva wasn't one to often show emotion or affection openly, but she'd made it a point to come down every day to check in on Aurora, often staying to try and get the ailing student to drink a little bit of a restorative broth of a cup of herbal tea designed to keep her strengths up. Aurora had lost a lot of weight and had trouble keeping any food down, and in her feverish state she could hardly distinguish reality from the fever dreams that plagued her. Something the Scottish woman had also taken notice of but couldn't quite place was the shift in the usually indifferent disposition of the Potions Master, in whose chambers Aurora now spent her days and nights. It had been decided to not unduly alarm the student body by admitting Aurora to the infirmary, instead keeping the matter private as Albus had impressed upon the staff. But something had definitely changed in Severus's attitude. Minerva noted that the usually sullen man seemed worried and withdrawn, despite still being distant. His cold demeanour had shifted into something more driven and purposeful, seemingly completely focused on helping Albus find an antidote to the poison that was afflicting Aurora.

Aurora's boy hurt and ached, and her hair became thinner and brittle. Dark purple bags had taken a permanent residence underneath her eyes, and even her lips were cracked and often bleeding. Violent shaking fits overcame her, usually followed by cramps and vomiting. When the symptoms weren't escalating, she went into a sort of slumber, in which she drifted in and out of consciousness. Barely able to speak, Aurora's throat was raw and her eyes red and bloodshot. Sores had started erupting on her sides and the back of her legs, while her veins had the appearance of having been injected with some sort of dye, tainted a deep blue, like a macabre circuit or roadmap underneath her unusually pale skin.

For reason unknown to the sickly witch she remained in Severus' s room, which on itself was quite shocking. Whenever she was lucid enough to ask herself any sorts of questions, other matters claimed her thoughts, and she hadn't found the strength or courage to ask the man himself about it. Perhaps it was better this way. She hated hospitals. Cold and clinical, she strongly disliked places like that, even though she didn't know exactly why. Severus returned during his free periods and spent most nights working on several healing potions and antidotes. Aurora was usually in too much pain to notice anything, but when it was manageable, she watched him work.

It was fascinating to watch the Potions Master in action. He seemed to have an infinite patience when it came to potions. The precision with which he cut, sorted and selected the ingredients was nothing compared to the quiet determination he showed when mixing and preparing the contents of a cauldron. It was as if something else entirely took over his mind, body and soul when he was making a potion. Methodical, efficient and calculating he seemed lost in his own little world when stirring some unknown concoction. As the fumes rose from his cauldron, he looked completely focused and concentrated, onyx eyes gleaming with appreciation from the art he was practicing. The dedication he showed towards his profession rivalled an equally great passion and determination he held for the art of potions making. The scent of spices hung heavy in the air on a daily basis, and Aurora became accustomed to the exotic and sharp smells permeating the air around her. The woodsy scent and essence of smoke and ashes were a constant, and a tinge of mint was not uncommon to wash over her as she fought through another wave of fever dreams and periods where she'd go from reeling as her body felt like it had been frozen to tossing and turning as clammy sweat as she felt like she was burning up from within. It all blended together in this cacophony of sensations and smells, which she all associated with one person: Severus.

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