Gioconda Corvini

Ophelia had been here for a few days now and she was not getting any better. It made her so anxious which was not a feeling she was used to. She had always been able to move effortlessly from one task to the next. But she was not able to do that now. She had not been at Ollivanders for weeks no and this was not something she was used to. She had never been away from the shop for this long unwillingly. Yes, she had gone on trips for work or on a holiday but they had never been more than at max. This was just not something that Ophelia did. She hadn’t even thought if Killian would visit. But then again he was a vampire so he could get away with seeing her here at the school, that was if he came during the evening hours. But the witch didn’t know if her grandfather was going to see her or not. She was fine either way. At least she wasn’t in a room on her own. She had a roommate and honestly she thought last time she had one was back at Hogwarts and that seemed like a lifetime ago,

Gioconda seemed liked a nice enough girl but a little quieter than Ophelia. This was not a bad thing and Ophelia was not trying to be the loudest of the two They were similar in age and that was a good sign that they would get along. Gioconda was from Europe and Ophelia spoke both Spanish and basic Italian but she not tried it out on the other girl yet. She wasn’t sure even where the other girl hailed from. But she knew she should make an attempt to get to know her. There was no telling how long they would be here for. Sure they all had their lives to get back to but for now they were all stuck here. Ophelia had asked the healers many times if they knew when she or any of the other patients were going to get out here but they could tell her hardly anything because weren’t even sure themselves.

She knew that the healers here were working as best they could to heal the patients here, it was just annoying. Sitting in bed Ophelia turned to her side and saw Gioconda as in the room too. ”How are you feeling today, Gioconda?” she asked as she took some water and sipped in the hopes of cooling herself down.

Saturday Sickness

This sickness was going to be the end of her, she was sure of it, and it had nothing to do with her tending to be melodramatic. Even the most rational person couldn’t deny that this was an unprecedented catastrophe: an epidemic like the wizarding world had never witnessed before, with possible consequences that she refused to believe. Something was wrong with her magic, but this had to be a passing side-effect. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t lose her magic. Even if she should survive this fever, she’d then certainly die of lack of being able to do anything. She couldn’t travel without magic. She couldn’t cook without magic. She couldn’t carry things without magic. Most likely she wouldn’t even be able to find back to her village without magic. She’d be utterly and completely lost. It was too terrifying to consider this option.

Where this was all leading to, she didn’t know and to a certain extent, this was a relief. As pessimistic as she was, there was still some hope that everything would be fine. Or at least that they would let her go home. She didn’t want to lie here, so far away from her friends and family. As annoying as her family could be, it would still be far more consoling if she had her mother fussing over her. But no, apparently she wasn’t allowed to leave. She was stuck in this hospital — or school or whatever the place formerly was — like in a prison. But she would not be here forever. A fever at some point stopped. It had to. If only the Healers would hurry and finally find a remedy. It couldn’t be that difficult. She knew nothing about healing, but with a little bit of effort those who did had to make some progress. Or for what else were they good for?

Until then, she’d lie here and do nothing. The only activity she could think of was reading, which would be a good idea because university would have started by now without the epidemic. Learning on her own would be better than nothing. But whenever she opened a book, everything would start to turn before her eyes, and she’d feel sick within a few seconds. So she was lying in her bed and imagining worst case scenarios, from extinction of Quidditch to the imploding of the whole world.

“Cosa?” she murmured when she heard her own name. She pressed her eyes together and opened them again. Right, the other girl in the room, Ophelia. The one who had been working at the wandmaker’s. “Bad. Like always,” she replied, the meaning of the question reaching her with a few seconds’ delay. “Like you, I guess.”

Ophelia was not having the easiest time when it came to her adjusting to falling sick. Sure, she did well to obey healer’s orders but that didn’t meant she was happy to be in this position. She would much rather be at work or at home. She missed Ollivanders ant at the same time, she was scared, she had noticed her magic disappearing for days now and it was a shared results of this flu that others were also experiencing. SHe thought that if enough people were going through the same thing they the people in charge would be more proactive in trying to find a cure. It was all she could hope for though. She didn’t know what was being done or if anything was being worked on. She had not questioned any Healers when they had come to check up on her. She wasn’t in the mood to hear any bad news. It may be presumptuous of Ophelia but she worked with wands and she was trained in matching wands to people based on traits because she made assumptions.

Thankfully she had finished serving all the first years before she had fallen sick. Yes, there were others that worked at Ollivanders who could do the same thing but she didn’t want to leave it up to them, she felt responsible for getting first years their wands and so she made a point of being at the shop as much as possible. It was just her luck the epidemic had set in towards the end of hate month and it was now September. From what she could see, no young children had been brought in feeling sick. Ophelia wished she was as lucky as them.

At least she had lucked out with other girl in the room. She was far from obnoxious which was good as people like that really got on the witch’s nerves. Yes that may be harsh but Ophelia had always been been a hard worker and she had only just started to ease up on that. But she still worked hard on producing her wands and making sure that she kept abreast with developments in wandlore. Ophelia knew that while it was an old field study, it was constantly changing just like other field, such as science and astronomy. She knew a little about the latter. However when it came comparison she knew very little but she could draw comparisons between wandlore and Science.

She didn’t know much about Gioconda but if she was awake right now, it would be a good time to get to know each other. However, she thought it was best to ask how she was feeling in case she had to get a healer to attend to her. ”Yeah and I hate being stuck here, I understand but doens’t meant I have to like it.” she sighe, sittting up a little and looking to the other girl. ”If you weren’t in here right now, what would you be doing instead?”

Why had she decided to come to England again? After the weeks at the hospital, she couldn’t think of anything any longer but that every single decision she had ever made had ended up being the wrong one. It didn’t help that she knew very well that this was far from being true. It was what it felt like, and ever since she had been assigned to this bed, her mind was repeating in a loop all that she had done wrong. The most insignificant details of her childhood, like sneaking outdoors at night and almost getting lost in the woods or trying to steal cake and getting caught by her mother, these stupid little moments were there, never leaving her alone. She didn’t want to think about these things. Her childhood had been happy, and she hadn’t been told off daily by her mother nor had she incessantly quarrelled with her brother — just a lot. But it had been okay back then. Little brothers’ sole reason of existing was to be a nuisance, and she’d annoy him back. It wasn’t like anything between them were bothering her. They spent all the time getting on each other’s nerves, but they still were siblings, and they loved each other though they would never say so. But all she could think of now was every single bad thing that ever happened between them.

And it was like that with everything else in her life. Positivity apparently was on holiday. Or didn’t go to hospitals. She was being childish. This was all herself, and if she tried, she could make the best out of this situation. That much was obvious, but she just… couldn’t. She couldn’t even try. She wanted home. She wanted her mother telling her that everything would be alright. It was embarrassing to wish for her mother at her age, but she couldn’t help it. And as long as she didn’t talk about it, she’d only be ashamed in front of herself. If she only could get out of the hospital. But they wouldn’t let her go, and honestly, she wouldn’t know what to do. She was still coughing all the time, her head was swimming, and she threw up at least three times in the day. Twice in the morning today. Maybe she would be spared until the evening. Maybe she should skip dinner, the food tasted horrible anyway. Whether the cooking was abysmal or whether it was because of her sickness, she didn’t know but variously accused one or the other, depending on her mood.

Talking with the other girl was at least a distraction from her pain. And Ophelia seemed nice enough, so maybe she could convince her bad mood to keep to itself for a couple of minutes and chat. “Instead?” she repeated and crossed her arms behind her head. Ouch. How had she managed to forget that her limbs were sore? “Invece… che farei… sarei — I’d be at university, studying some random English poet, and at Flourish and Blotts the rest of the time. Not that spectacular but better than coughing my soul out. What about you?” Something with wands? She wasn’t sure why she thought this, maybe she had spoken about it with someone else, or she had heard the name back in Diagon Alley, or maybe the fever just made her imagining things.

This flu had really kicked her to the kerb and she was not liking it one bit. She hated the feeling of having her magic disappear more and more each day. It had been part of her life for close to twenty years and now she was going to lose it. Ophelia knew that others around her were losing it to but that gave her very little if no comfort at all. She would have preferred for her to not lose anything at all but at it seemed, she like many others was not immune to this. She had simply followed orders as the decree had set out and had checked in. It was better than attempting to look after herself. She was fine with when it came to the common cold or a cough but she knew this was not something she could handle on her own. It was strange because Ophelia was able to create wands but she couldn’t shake this illness. During her time here she only hoped that she eventually left here feeling better.

At least this had struck her after the summer. It meant she would have not infected any first years or their families. But she had not come across anyone that young falling sick or even a teenager. She wondered if that group was just immune. Maybe this was like how chicken pox was more deadly in adult muggles than it was in children. She didn’t think was fatal at all but she would wait and see how people around her faired from this.

It was only a matter of time, she had seen how fast her her magic had been disappearing until now so she knew what was coming. She wasn’t sure how she would go living without her magic, her job relied on it fully but she could get by at home without it. Unlike some other purebloods she had taken to learning about the muggle way of life and how they lived with their appliances and such. She hoped she went okay. Of course there was her uncle who was a muggleborn whom she could contact for help but he facing his own challenges at the moment with what he was.

Ophelia tried not to spread her unhappiness with the woman she was sharing her room with but instead took the time to befriend her since neither of them knew how long they would be here for. She looked across and nodded when Gioconda appeared to question what she meant by instead. ”Anything is better than coughing” she said offering a weak smile and clearing her throat to stop herself from coughing. ”I’m a wandmaker so I would normally be at Ollivanders….this is going to stuff up my ability to do that anymore” Ophelia sighed.

Hospitals were a horror. Or the horror. Or the most horrible thing on the planet. Or… no, that was about all she could associate with hospitals these days. She had spent too much time in them. She had always left them healthier than she had entered, but this fact changed nothing about the way she felt. But this time it was worse than ever. First, she wasn’t here because she had suffered an injury. Second, her family wasn’t there — and they had been there constantly whenever she had to go to the hospital in Italy. She’d have to lay still because bones were mending or something similarly trivial, but there was constant distraction by relatives appearing and disappearing in chaotic order in the room. And nobody minded. Because that was normal. There were a lot of healthy people around her, assuring her that she’d be back to normal in no time or remain an invalid to the end of her days. Like normal people did. As long as there was something going on, it wasn’t that bad.

But here? Nothing. The days were never-ending and empty. And she was disappointed. She’d have expected at least her mother to come and look after her if not the rest of her family. With the interdiction to leave the country, it was somewhat understandable that not everybody would want to visit. And there was the danger of infection. She should be thankful that her parents and brother were far away. And she was — she really was — just… she was still feeling betrayed. She should remember that in her letters she was always insisting she was all right. Still, her mother should have felt that she was here, in this school or whatever it was turned hospital, together with countless other people. Certainly, she wouldn’t return to health here, where everybody was coughing and throwing up and having a fever. There were always complaint about the main ospedale in Rome was too small to accommodate all patients, but the situation there was nothing to what was going on here — not that she wanted to know how it would look if an epidemic broke out in Italy.

Her temper tended to be oscillating between extremes in the best of times, but now she was at the point where she wanted both company and be left alone simultaneously. And she didn’t care that it made no sense to want opposites at the same time. As long as she could appear reasonable and not like a pettish child when interacting with others, she wouldn’t worry about herself. “Ollivander,” she repeated, trying to follow what Ophelia was saying despite how heavy her head felt. “I’ve never been in there… I mean, true. That’s going to be… there’s a lot of magic needed to make a wand?” It was embarrassing, considering how how much her wand meant to her, but she had near to no idea how a wand maker worked or how they’d need to use magic.

When Ophelia had begun to realise she was losing her magic, she had started to worry and freak out but she still had enough poise to keep the latter to herself. Even if she had not grown up as a pureblood because her parents had been taken away before they could instruct her on how to behave, she still was one. She had been invited to many pureblood events, balls or dances and attending them had put her on edge. She knew that many others who have attended would have been there and if they cottoned on to who she was, it would have put her in danger. Thankfully, each time she said had introduced herself with her name, no one seemed to join the dots. Ophelia didn’t believe they were that stupid to actually miss the connection but they never questioned her. She was glad to be able to enjoy her night. But that had been so long ago now, she wasn’t enjoying herself by any means right now given how sick she had been. Seeing herself and others around her lose their magic, did scare Ophelia a little. While she knew how to live without it, to some extent, she didn’t know completely. The best she could hope for was that the healers or spell inventors would come up with something soon and people would get magic back as soon as they lost it.

It wasn’t looking that though, that worried Ophelia. She dealt with wands, they were her life, she knew how they worked and what anyone was capable of when they had their wand. She knew that muggleborns didn’t have their assigned wand and that made her upset. She felt that no one had the right to tell muggleborns or any other blood status where they belonged. Regardless of what blood status they belonged to, they all belonged in the magical world if they had magic. Even Squibs had a place in this world. At least Ophelia felt so. When she had been younger she had been embarrassed at times that so many purebloods thought the world should remain pure and no muggleborns should be allowed. She hadn’t grown up with that kind of belief. Her aunt was pureblood given that she was her mother’s sister but her uncle had been a halfblood. He had always taken her to muggle places so she could appreciate how they lived without magic and she continued to do so until today.

But she would be more appreciative now given her current situation. Ophelia just wanted to be out here but at the same time, she knew this was the best place for her to be. She had noticed by the way Gioconda spoke she was from mainland Europe, this meant she would have gotten her wand from over here, it explained why she had never been into Ollivanders yet. ”Yes, it definitely is….magic is so critical for crafting wands. I don’t really know what I’ll do now” That was the truth. She hated the unknown when it came to her work. ”Tell me about where you’re from…” She smiled at the other brunette inviting her to talk about her homeland if she wanted to.

If there was a problem, the normal way to react was to be melodramatic and make a huge fuss. Pretty much everybody back home agreed that this was how critical situations were best dealt with. Unless you were really loud about whatever was bothering you, nobody would pay attention or believe that help was needed. Gioconda was somewhat grateful that she had been long enough in England to keep her mouth shut when she finally had to go to the hospital — number one most hated place in the world. She remained quiet, mostly, and accepted that she had to wait and nevertheless would not be forgotten. It tended to be awfully quiet in the room anyway. She was thankful for it, theoretically, for she couldn’t remember ever having had worse headaches, but also strange that no family was there to picnic with their sick. Sometimes someone would come and visit, that was sitting quietly next to a bed and lead a muffled conversation. And as much as she appreciated that she didn’t have to listen to hours of boring details about the person’s last stop at the hair dressers, it just remained strange. What was the point of visiting if they didn’t talk. As bad as her headache was, she couldn’t imagine not to talk as much as possible with the person who had taken it upon themselves to visit her at her sick bed.

Not that she had any chance of testing her theory, as nobody would come to see her. Her family was a long distance away, and if her mother, who was the most likely to undertake the journey, should come, she wouldn’t be able to return. It was better that they remained home and healthy instead of coming to see if she was alright; unless she was feeling very bad, Gioconda could understand. Unfortunately, most of the time she was too miserable to see her own point, and she felt abandoned by all her loved ones. If she at least would have had someone to complain to, it would be a bit of a relief. Instead, all her melodramatics had to happen in her head, for the only other persons around were the other patients. They would hardly want to listen to her issues when they were just as badly off.

Still, someone to talk to was nice even if complaining wasn’t an option. Her headache might disagree, but she couldn’t let a flu dictate how she spent her day. Being miserable in silence was not better than a conversation while her voice sounded like it wanted to say its final good-byes any moment — she knew her voice better than that —, and Ophelia seemed nice enough. For a wandmaker, the fact that magic was fading was so much worse than for her, who wouldn’t lose her studies or her job. “You’ll still be able to give instructions and assist,” she said, hoping that this would be a consolation and not just make her situation more bitter. “I guess those who still have magic will have to help out, and they wouldn’t know how.” Collecting and choosing the ingredients might also still be possible, but she wouldn’t mention it because the more she thought about wandmaking, the more she realised how little she knew about the craft. “Oh, are you sure you want to ask that question?” she said, perking up and shifting in her bed to find a more comfortable position to look at Ophelia. “Because, believe me, you might hear more than you ever wanted to. What do you want to hear about? I’m from the Appennini. It’s pretty wild and rural there.”

No one ever wished to be sick, even if it was a student who hoped they caught some strange lurgy but this was something else. Ophelia tried her hardest to live a healthy life but this was not something she or anyone else could escape. She was feeling absolutely terrible. Sure, her sister too had fallen sick but she hadn’t been able to contact her aunt and uncle and it made her worry about them. She had already lost so much and it was still too early to say if whatever this epidemic was about was fatal or not. She certainly hoped it wasn’t going to happen but she would wait to see.

Ophelia knew that without her magic was going to obstruct her job and seriously too. Sure, there was anyway to spin a positive outlook on that loss of magic but she wanted to be creating wands. Uncovering new ways of doing that or the power of different cores were why she wanted to create wands in the first place. There was also the part about wanting to make her mark on the magical world but she didn’t want to get egotistical about her job. Without her parent she had lived a very humble life and she saw no point in changing that.

She may have been vengeful at times but even still, she had not felt that way for a number of years. Bradley still got on her nerves at times but she had learned he had fallen sick and it was the best news she had heard in a while. But Ophelia was more focused on getting better. She knew that she was in the right place at the moment and that the nurses and healers were doing their best job. It was just frustrating to feel so sick at times and there was the exhaustion which she thought was silly as she wasn’t even doing anything.

Ophelia hoped that she wasn’t bothering her roommate to much with her coughing but in return, Giaconda got her back when she unfortunately had her own coughing fit. Almost everyone here had a coughing fit, it could be heard easily between the walls. It made her throat dry but there was only so much water she could drink. She knew that not even the strongest muggle cough syrup could fix whatever they all had here.

With any luck they would all be better soon and be out of here. For all the patients here that was the end game and they all hoped it was sooner rather than later. ”Yes, I know that, its just not the same” Ophelia replied laughing a little. It was evident that assisting or giving instructions was not the same. THey didn’t even have anyone currently in Ollivanders that she could give instructions to. Galenia was already as proficient as she was when it came to wandmakng. Hearing the other brunette question her on whether she was sure she wanted to hear about her hometown made her laugh. It made her know that she was missing home a little, if not, a lot. ”Oh, in Italy correct? I’ve never been there but I’ve heard of them from the few times I’ve been there. I lived in Dublin with my aunt and uncle before moving to London a few years ago”

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