November 28th, 1890 - Hogwarts Library, early evening
Cameron Gillenwater

Sloane had been gone for nearly two weeks at this point. After that disastrous corn maze, her fever had been so high after being out all night that' she'd slipped past the flu and right into pneumonia; straight out of the infirmary to the actual hospital for fourteen days. It had been one of the scariest points in her life, even worse than the squid encounter. Her fever had spiked and there were points she didn't even remember, but after being fever free for five days and showing impressive improvement, Sloane had been released to go home. She'd spent the the day at home but had badgered her mother into taking her back to school this evening instead of in the morning. She wanted to have the full day to get back into the routine before starting back up with classes on Monday. She was so behind at this point that it would be a miracle if she could catch up. Repeating fourth year would be miserable.

Realistically though, she wanted to get back without telling anyone so she could surprise them. It was after dinner by the time she'd been up to see the nurse to get all of her check in information and potion schedule to continue her recovery, before she made it up to the common room. Almost everyone was there and generally happy to see her, but one important person was missing and she was told he was in the library of all places.

After dropping her things off in her room and frankly wishing she could go to bed, Sloane briefly contemplated just going to sleep and waking up in the morning to surprise Cam, but she couldn't wait quite that long. It would have been glorious though, to just waltz down the stairs and see the look on his face, but this would be equally as amusing, she suspected.

She spent a fair few minutes wandering through the library itself, thinking she might give up and head back to the common room to fulfill that original plan, when she finally spotted him tucked away in a secluded corner. Smiling to herself, Sloane pulled a random book from the nearest shelf and tucked it under her arm before swinging around the far side of his table to sneak up behind him. "Is this seat taken?" She asked innocently enough, but it was hard to keep the mirth from her voice.

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In the days that Sloane had been gone, Cameron had exhausted every hobby, every interest, every possible task. He may have given up his dream of healing, but that hadn't stopped him from going back into his journal to reorganize his thoughts and deadlines under the guise of "being responsible". In reality, he was miserably doing everything possible not to go mad with worry.

He hadn't been like this before. When Sloane had fallen in the lake over the summer, he hadn't fretted when she'd caught a cold, and he knew if she'd came down with pneumonia then he wouldn't have fussed over her as he did now. She was her own person, sure, but she was his person, and after all the emotional turmoil this year he feared losing the one constant he'd grown used to: Sloane. He felt like a stranger within his own friend group without her seated beside him, and he knew he looked out of place, too; on more than one occasion he'd been asked if he was alright, to which he'd obligatorily answered "yes". But he wasn't. Sloane was sick—very sick—and there was nothing he could do about it nor any proper way to handle the emotions.

The library was an easy place to go. It was quiet, large enough to find a secluded corner, and filled with books on every subject under the sun. After thirty minutes of wandering he'd picked out four books: one lower-level potions book for review, one book on magical myths and legends, one on great wizards of the seventeenth century, and one advanced defensive magic book just for the fun of it. He'd failed to make it past the second page in any of them. He'd finally given up and pulled out the spare parchment he'd brought with him, his quill scribbling across the page as he attempted to copy the illustrations in the book. He was no good, but it was mindless work and that's precisely what he needed.

He considered going back to the common room, or maybe the Astronomy tower. The Astronomy professor rarely questioned why students chose to study and would even write excuses if they stayed past curfew. It was a good escape. Maybe. But then, just has he'd finished a poorly-executed drawing of a cauldron, he heard a voice. Her voice.

Cameron whirled around in his chair, mouth agape. His eyes went wide as he realized it was her—Sloane—standing right in front of him with a book tucked under her arm. He had about a dozen questions, the first being "Where did you come from?" but he was unable to find his words and instead stood up, took a step forward, and crushed her in a hug. Thank Merlin for the mazelike rows of shelves that kept them out of the librarian's view.

"You didn't tell me you were coming," he said as he squeezed her, not an accusation, but a statement.

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The fact that she hadn't fooled him left her chuckling— until he pulled her into a hug so tight she could barely breathe. Managing, to get the book in her hand to the table, she squeezed him tightly arms wrapped around his middle. Of course she was already feeling better, but now she felt whole.

"I didn't know if I was or not, She mumbled into his shirt. "Convincing Mama to let me come back tonight was a lot of work." It had only been under the guise of practicality that she'd finally won. It made more sense to get a good night's sleep here at school, her reacclimated to school and then start classes up again so she could begin the daunting task of trying to catch up.

Knowing she should let go, Sloane couldn't find the willpower to release him just yet. Being back at school made her recovery more real and now she could start moving past the nightmare that was her hospital stay. This was as good a medicine as anything else she'd been given and hopefully she'd only get stronger.

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She was back, and she didn't sound like she was going to fall into a fit of coughs any second. He loosed his grip on her, but only so he could hear her. So this was a surprise to everyone, including her. The momentary thought that she should have told him, even if it meant receiving a poorly-written note on a crumpled piece of parchment, passed through his mind, but he knew that this was better. The sudden delight erased the weeks' worth of worry and sorrow, because now she was here. He pulled back, his arms still wrapped around her, and pecked her on the forehead before stepping back altogether. This corner of the library shielded them from immediate sight, but anyone could wander by at any time and catch them. He hated it.

"I was scared for you," he said, his brows creasing as he reached forward to brush his hand against hers. "And it's not easy pretending that I wasn't worried out of my mind. I mean- everyone was, but I couldn't stop worrying," he explained, a little frown appearing on his face.

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Sighing contentedly, Sloane smiled softly at the affection before it was gone all too soon. Though it was often sparse around this section of the library, that didn't mean they were truly alone. They couldn't risk getting caught again and so she had to find solace simply being in his company once again. It really was nice to be back and out of a hospital bed without coughing or a fever to accompany it.

"I was scared too," She admitted, but wouldn't tell him the worst of it.  Her fever had gotten dangerously high upon her admission to the hospital and then again one other night. The healers hadn't expected her to make it through the first fever after it lasted for a couple days. The second time it came down quickly, which had been a relief, but to say everyone hadn't been frightened she would be joining Sawyer would have been a lie. It was why she hadn't been able to write to him before she finally managed to. "I've never been that sick in my entire life." Even the cold she'd caught after the lake hadn't been that bad, but to go from the flu straight to pneumonia was terrifying. Frankly she still felt cold and wasn't sure she'd ever warm up completely again, despite the on and off fevers over the last two weeks. The exhaustion was what she'd been warned about, like it would last a while.

She was alright now though, had proven well enough to come home and go back to school. Whatever final concoction of potion they'd given her had really done the trick. "Must have been bad if you're spending Saturday night in the library." She teased lightly. Sloane could see many nights in the library in her future while she attempted to catch up on everything she had missed.

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To say he was relieved would have been an understatement. He would still be worrying if she looked too pale, too sweaty, or too tired; or if her hands were clammy or felt cold to the touch, but she looked just fine and there was no sign of sickness—not a cough, not a sneeze, not anything.

"You're going to be fine now, though." She would be, because he would keep an eye on her whether she knew it or not. He couldn't have her being rushed back to the hospital because another fever overtook her. (He hoped she wouldn't mind his overprotectiveness too much, because he could already envision the next week in his mind: him constantly asking if she felt okay, carrying her books when they climbed the stairs, making sure she ate enough.)

He smiled at her and gave a careless shrug. "Had to put my restlessness to use in a 'non-destructive' way—whatever that means." One of his professors had noticed his anxiousness, and, although they hadn't connected it to Sloane, suggested that he try busy work rather than biting his nails into the quick. "It's good that I did. I actually made notes for class that you can copy. Real notes," he said, grabbing the piece of parchment off the table. "I made these last night. They're from this week's Transfiguration class," he explained, holding the parchment up so the words Inter-Elemental Transfiguration was visible. He might not talk to Alice anymore, but her tips had proven useful even when he used them in ways other than their intended purpose.

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Nodding slowly, Sloane had been given a clean bill of health from the hospital and a long list of things to be on the lookout for. The fatigue was the big one the healers said would linger for a while and she was definitely feeling it, but hopefully it would improve with time. "Fine now, yep." She assured him with a more decisive nod.

Finding somewhere to put his restlessness had turned into Transfiguration notes that she could copy. Well fancy that. She looked briefly at the parchment before her and smiled slowly. "Well thanks, one class down, several to go." Oh the thought of catching up on all of the work she had missed was the second worst part of being gone. Her friends would no doubt save her ass in this respect, but it was a daunting task. "Hopefully I don't have to repeat fourth year." She chuckled.

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She would be okay, but that didn't mean it would be easy. They still had drama, quidditch, and classwork—and for her, more than was probably manageable—to deal with. Everyone would have to work together to ensure that Sloane would catch up. She vocalized the same worries that were running through his own mind, but he was certain she wouldn't have to. Nobody repeated a year, did they? Except the half-breeds, of course...

"You won't have to repeat a year. We'll get through it." Even if it meant setting aside his own studies (which, in truth, he still looked for excuses to do) to take time out of his day to go over whatever they'd done in class while she was away. She still had Ned, Calla, Sisse again, and probably Alice assuming she didn't turn on Sloane like she had him. "Besides, I can't imagine that any of our professors will hold it against you. They'll give you time, too," he added. They would have to focus on getting her caught up on the foundations of any new lessons, but that wouldn't be too hard with the smart people in their group.

"But right now you don't need to worry about that," he said, smiling fondly down at her. He reached out and touched her hand again, overwhelmed by the urge to keep his hands on her despite knowing he couldn't. "I'm just glad you're back."

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Sloane didn't really think that she was going to have to repeat fourth year. Cam was right, she had a lot of help and the professors had been updated on her situation, so would likely have some leeway in regards to her catching up. He seemed genuinely worried about it though, whereas she'd been kidding.

"It's going to be fine, more work that I'd like to put in, but not much to be done about it." Just plow through. His concern was endearing and she eagerly tangled her fingers in hers, willing to push the boundary just a little bit after weeks without so much as hearing his voice. It was sappy and gross and she hated herself just a little bit for her, but she was a smitten fool and there was nothing to be done about it. "Me too, never thought I'd rather be in Potions than anywhere else, but I'll happily take the dungeons over the hospital." She hummed out, clearly amused.

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As long as she wasn't too stressed, he supposed he could give it a rest. For now. The worst case scenario was her doing poor on her exams, but it wouldn't be the end of the world considering she wasn't relying on scholarships. She couldn't imagine their professors letting her fail without attempting to help her—and as long as everyone was by her side, she'd manage. He flashed her a sheepish little smile, squeezing her hand in his as she entangled her fingers with his. "Potions has been a dungeon of its own sort lately. I feel like Professor Valenduris is staring me down the whole time," he admitted. "But with everything that's been going on I wouldn't blame him for thinking I might blow up my cauldron during class." He reached up with his free hand and twirled his finger around her braid, allowing himself this one minute of closeness before he had to pretend like he wasn't all that excited to see her.

It would be less than a month until they would go home for the holidays, and he just might be able to get a little alone time with her. "Maddy and I are moving to Irvingly after all," he said, rubbing his thumb against the top of her hand. "So we won't have the spend all of break writing letters. That's something to look forward to." They would have their little holiday party, and, if everything went as he hoped, he might have a chance to steal some alone time—and maybe a kiss or three.

"Just a few more weeks. We've got plenty of time." For her to get caught up, for him to improve his grades as much as humanly possible in such a short period of time. He might not be hyper-focused on healing, but he still felt the shame of five years of poor performance.

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   Sloane Bixby

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Sloane felt guilty that her being ill had caused so much distress. The last thing any of them needed was more drama. She made to apologize for being a distraction when his news about moving to Irvingly completely changed the subject. "Well that's some good news at least." It would be much easier to spend some time together if he was only a short floo trip away.

Smiling softly at him, she simply nodded. A few more weeks, then a little break and then they could come back to the new term and hit the ground running. It would take a lot of work to catch up and to hopefully help his grades improve, but they could manage somehow, if they took it seriously.

Maybe, hopefully they could tackle this friend drama too and be done with it. Wouldn't that be nice?

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He finally released her after gently squeezing her hands, trying to mentally prepare himself to spend the next few weeks without being too close to her. He briefly wondered if her presence would help or hurt his grades for the remainder of the term—she was a distraction, though one he missed deeply—but it didn't take him very long to decide that it didn't matter.

"We'll get everything back to normal soon enough," he promised. (Well, almost everything.)

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