Cast yourself (you are the spell)

Chapter 35

Her friends end up sneaking her back into the hospital wing during the early hours of the morning. Luckily, professors appear to need sleep just as much as students do, because Madame Pomfrey doesn't catch them, even with all the noise they make trying to get her inside.

Still, Hope sleeps for about three hours-sleep plagued by impossibly pouty lips and soft brown hair-before Pomfrey wakes her up in the afternoon to take another draught. Her head pounds again as she sits up, and the matron gives her a weird look.

"You've been asleep since last night, dear," she says, her eyebrows knitted together with suspicion. Hope grimaces as the foul-tasting liquid scorches her throat. "Are you feeling better?"

Her tone of voice implies that she thinks Hope does not look any better.

"Much," the pureblood clips out, coughing slightly. Merlin, had hangovers always been this bad? The potion Pomfrey gave her didn't even help, but perhaps that was because it was made to heal a different ailing. "May I go now?"

Pomfrey narrows her eyes.

"I think you'd better stay a little longer," is all she says, before disappearing, murmuring something Hope can't hear.

Her friends swing by a little while later. Rose stands in front of them all, a scroll clutched tightly in her hand. The Machado siblings greet her with their mouths stuffed full of chocolates, and Penelope just nods coolly, waving around a Hangover potion in her hand that Hope takes gratefully.

"Morning," Rose says, sitting next to Hope as Penelope takes the bedside chair. She holds up the scroll she had been carrying. "This came for you, during breakfast. From your parents, I suspect. They also got you some chocolate, but Maya and Ethan already ate that..."

Hope ignores the latter part and focuses on the parchment paper gripped firmly in Rose's fingers. The girl obviously feels bad for contacting Hope's parents the day before, but the pureblood won't tell her that she forgave her for it hours ago.

Rose hands over the letter very slowly, and Hope grabs it at once, fire racing down her veins and turning over her insides. Half of her can't believe that it's really from her parents. They usually take days or weeks to reply to a single one of her letters, and that bleeds much to the reason she had stopped sending them a long time ago.

Now, it had only taken her parents about a couple of hours to respond. Maybe it was because Rose had been the one to write first? It would not do well to have other people think her parents were anything but doting and loving of their only daughter.

Hope eyes the black, wax seal on the scroll. It's unmistakably stamped with the family Mikaelson emblem, and the pureblood gets her answer. There's no doubt now-the letter is from her parents.

She tugs the scroll open with shaking fingers, reads with bated breath.

Dear Hope,

I hope all is well, and that you are making a quick return to great health. Regrettably, your mother is quite preoccupied right now, so she sends your favorite Belgian chocolates and her best wishes. You should know that she is thoroughly vexed with your headmaster. As a matter of fact, she is currently sending him a piece of her mind, as she puts it, for allowing harm to come to you.

I am not so angry. I can only be proud of you for leading your team to yet another victory. I expect nothing else from the Mikaelson name.

While you are recovering, I find that this is also a great opportunity to begin thinking about your coming-of-age ball for the summer. You will be turning seventeen in a matter of months. With that in mind, it is in your finest interest as a young woman of high standing to solidify your relationships with other purebloods. By the end of this year, I hope we can discuss possible suitors for a marriage contract. Of course, we would never betroth you to someone unworthy of your hand in marriage. However, many renowned families have already offered some rather attractive engagement proposals, and your mother and I know that you would never disappoint us.