Asha Freeman đź Astoria Malfoy (astoryof) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2019-08-16 22:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | !narrative, * emily, r: asha freeman |
Who: Asha Freeman --> Astoria Greengrass
When: August 17, 2019 --> August 17, 1988
Where: Greengrass home & Saint Mungo's
What: Asha dreams of Astoria's first use of magic/when she first got sick...and also rationalizes it all away.
Rating: Low, but description of chronic illness/pain based on sickle cell anemia.
Prompt: đ
The unusually humid summer air made Astoriaâs hair stick to the back of her neck as she practically ran to keep up with Daphne and the Davis girl as they traipsed across the backyard. Astoria was entering a contentious phase with Daphne, and it left her confused and generally a little weepy. While Astoria liked nothing better than to spend time with Daphne, her sister was tiring of this routine and preferred to do âeight-year-old-thingsâ with her new little friends--none of whom Astoria especially liked, mainly because she was jealous of them. Struggling to catch her breath, Astoria cried out, âWait for me!â Daphne stopped short and turned around in a huff, âWe didnât ask you to come with us, Astoria,â she said, turning up her nose. Astoria crossed her arms defiantly, âBut who am I supposed to play with?â âThatâs not our problem,â Daphne shrugged, and Astoria felt her cheeks warm with indignation. âDidnât my parents bring my little brother along?â Tracey offered as an olive branch. Astoria scrunched up her nose, âHeâs a boy.â âBoys can be fun,â Daphne pointed out. âYeah, right,â Astoria rolled her eyes for emphasis, âWhy canât I just play with you?â âBecause youâre boring, Astoria, you canât do any magic yet, and thatâs what we want to do. Magic things,â said Daphne. Astoriaâs eyes began to fill with tears, and then she was mad at both Daphne and herself, because she knew if she cried in front of them, it was over. Sheâd be the cry-baby, baby sister and then they really wouldnât want to play with her. Astoria lifted her chin to keep the tears from falling. âYeah, right,â Astoria sniffed, âYou canât do magic on your own. It just comes whenever you and mum argue.â Daphne shrugged, âWell, I guess if you want to play with us, youâll just have to catch us,â she said, then stretched her longer legs out into a sprint. She grabbed Traceyâs hand, who giggled and ran after her. Astoria let the tears fall with a huff, knowing she couldnât catch them, and feeling horribly jealous that Daphne was holding this new girlâs hand instead of hers, as if being sisters didnât mean anything to Daphne anymore. As Astoria glared at the two girls through teary eyes, Daphne suddenly froze mid-stride. Astoria watched as her sister struggled to move. âWhat the--â Daphne gasped, frozen. Appraising the situation, Traceyâs eyes landed on Astoria, who had gone rigid herself. âI think itâs your sister, Daph,â Tracey said. âLet me go, Astoria!â cried Daphne, but Astoria didnât know how. There was a tension coiling through her body to Daphneâs, and it took another few moments until Astoria felt it snap and she gasped. Daphne fell clumsily to the ground. When she turned, Astoria expected her to be mad, but instead, she was beaming. âAstoria!â she burst, âI think you just did magic! Like real magic, not baby magic.â Astoria began to smile, but then she gasped as she felt something else snap inside of her. A pain shot through her chest and reverberated through the rest of her body. Astoriaâs eyes widened and her mouth formed a small oh. She grasped her chest. Daphne watched her sisterâs expression shift, her brow furrowed. âAstoria?â She tried to answer, but struggled to form words. The pain made Astoria sway on her feet until she collapsed to the ground. âAstoria!â Daphne cried and ran to her. Astoriaâs vision filled with Daphneâs face, and she began to whimper, then moan. âWhatâs wrong?â Daphne asked frantically, cupping Astoriaâs face in her hands. âIt--it hurts,â Astoria gasped. âWhat hurts?â Daphne asked. âMy chest--everything,â Astoria panted. Her parentsâ faces swam in Astoriaâs vision next, before Daphne could answer--Tracey had run for them. âBaby, whatâs wrong?â her mother asked, placing a hand on her forehead. âHurts,â Astoria echoed weakly, her eyes growing heavy as her ears throbbed. Her father said something, but it was muted over the din of her pulsing eardrums. Astoria looked up at him, but struggled to keep her eyes open until she finally closed them. Gradually, voices crept in through the heavy fog of Astoriaâs potions-induced sleep. Astoria opened her eyes, and she saw that she was in an unfamiliar room, the side table covered in bouquets of bright, colorful flowers. They did nothing to soothe Astoria, though, who felt very confused as she struggled to remember what had happened and how sheâd gotten here. Someone was holding her hand--Astoria turned and saw that it was Daphne. âAstoria?â she said, her voice small, uncertain. She turned towards her sister and bit her lip, âWhat...what happened?â she asked. Daphneâs chin wobbled first, then she began to cry, âOh, Astoria, Iâm so, so sorry. I shouldnât have been so mean to you--Iâll never leave you out again, I promise--â Astoria blinked a few times, struggling to remember what happened the day before--or had it only been a day? There were quite a lot of flowers. âItâs okay, Daffy, but how...where am I?â Daphne sniffed, âWeâre at St. Mungoâs--you...you got sick. You did magic, and then you got sick.â âI did magic?â âYes, but then...then you said you were hurting, but we couldnât see what was wrong. You hadnât tripped...you looked fine, but then you passed out and we took you here,â she explained. Hearing their voices, a healer and Astoriaâs parents walked into the room. Astoria had never seen them look so frightened and relieved at the same time. âHow are you feeling, sweetheart?â her mother asked as her father kissed her forehead. âOkay,â Astoria answered. The healer made eye contact with her parents, who nodded. The healer smiled gently, âMy name is Healer Jones, Astoria...you had quite a shock, Iâm glad you're feeling better,â she said. âIâm sure youâre wondering what happened--accidental magic use can sometimes be a shock to the system, but it can also...stir up certain magical maladies--or illnesses--that have been...letâs say sleeping inside of you,â she explained, making an effort to put this in kid-friendly terms, âThatâs what happened to you--you have a blood curse, Astoria, and it woke up along with your magical abilities.â âA curse?â Astoria asked, alarmed. âYes...now, probably no one actually cursed you, but someone else in your family must have been--maybe a long time ago--and it was passed on to you.â From the corner of her eye, Astoria saw her mother bury her face in her hands. âItâs...not going to go away, Astoria, but you can learn to manage it, and weâll help you,â Healer Jones continued, âYou might feel weak sometimes...your head may hurt, maybe the rest of your body, too. Shortness of breath can also be common. Magic may be difficult until your body--and more importantly, your blood--gets used to it.â âI wonât be able to do magic?â Astoria asked, a sense of dread creeping in. âYou will, and as well as anyone else, but--it might bring on another episode like this. At least the accidental outbursts that children have. With a wand and a Hogwarts education, it shouldnât bring on any major episodes,â the healer said, âItâs best to avoid getting too angry or upset, though, if you can. I know that can be hard, but those feelings are usually what bring on accidental magic in children.â Daphne let out a guilty hiccup. This was a lot for Astoria to take in--she was sick, and the healer told her she wasnât going to get better. At six years old, Astoria hadnât even realized that was a thing that could happen to people, and now it was happening to her. She felt an urge to cry, but then the memory of what that pain felt like came back to her, and she realized the way she felt now wasnât nearly half as bad as that, so there wasnât really any point in crying. She closed her eyes as her parents hugged her. Asha woke with a start, feeling groggy. She squinted and checked her alarm clock--it was four in the morning. She sighed and stared up at the ceiling. What had woken her? It all came back to her as she lay in bed, thinking. Asha had had a dream--a vivid one. She rarely remembered her dreams, and when she did, they were usually work-related anxiety dreams; Asha would look exactly the same, the hospital would look exactly the same, but she would find herself trying to speak to a patient and she wouldnât have any voice. Or maybe her teeth would fall out. Something utterly typical as far as stress-related dreams go, as unnerving as those dreams could be. This one had been different, though. Sheâd been dreaming that she was a child, but it wasnât herself as a child. She felt a creeping sense of dread--was it one of those dreams? Asha rolled over unsettled, recalling more of the details. The girl was sick--shifting through the symptoms in her mind, Asha realized the girl, Astoria, probably had sickle cell anemia. What happened in the dream had been a pain crisis. Asha treated many sickle cell patients, but that wasnât what theyâd called it in the dream...theyâd called it a blood curse. Asha mulled it over some more in the dark room. She decided the dream wasnât totally atypical. Sure, the talk of magic was unusual, but...ultimately, sheâd dreamt of a child with a blood disease akin to sickle cell, and Asha worked with children like that everyday. It was odd, maybe, that sheâd slipped into the role of child rather than doctor, but Asha did think of her young patients often, they weighed on her heart--dreaming as one of them was probably just a way of her subconscious processing those feelings. Maybe it would be good for her, even. And yet, in spite of her reassurances, Asha knew that sleep would not return to her even at this ungodly hour--she was wide awake now. Letting out a resigned sigh, Asha rose to make some tea. |