The Gifted Curse

Chapter 14 - News From Home

With winning the Quidditch match under her belt, Geneva attempted to get back to her studies that week and focus on juggling the mountain of homework piling in. Her mother had reminded her constantly via owl that she needed to really grind her gears this year. Although her parents expressed how proud they were of their daughter's success in Quidditch, they reminded her that Quidditch was not a reliable career path and that she needed to focus academically to come out on top. Geneva had been studying all weekend, tucked in the either the common room, the library or her dormitory. The thought of Professor Snape had given her the adrenaline rush she needed to bury herself in her books. For once, content with the vibe he'd given off, she was able to feel at ease and not be burdened with a multitude of questions and frustration regarding his unreadable facial expressions. For once, she felt the ball was in her court. Somewhat. Although at times it frustrated her, she had to admit, there was something wonderfully intriguing about his mysterious aura.

A smile melted over her face at breakfast on Monday morning as she saw Professor Snape, thinking of him wearing her Christmas gift at the match. He never looked in her direction for he was talking to Professor McGonagall, but Geneva rose her pumpkin juice to her lips to hide a knowing smile, thinking back to their moment.

"Oh look, the post is here," she heard across the way.

Owls large and small came swooping in from the heavy oak doors, grasping parcels and letters before dropping them into the laps of their respected recipients.

An owl swooped down next to Geneva, landing beside the toast rack and pecked impatiently at her plate.

"Ok, ok." She hastily tried to retrieve a knut from her bag to pay the bird.

"Here," she put it into his brown pouch, and carefully retrieved the letter from it's claws. It flew off immediately.

Geneva knew the writing on the front of the letter. It was her mother's. Her heart thudded with anxiety. It was the letter she had been anticipating – her father's hospital results. Her heart beat fast as she debated when to open it, knowing she would have to go straight from breakfast to Potions. With a quick glance around, she saw others busy with parcels and letters, so decided to read it, keeping it close, level with the table's edge.

Our Geneva,

Dad and I hope you're ok. Congratulations on winning your match last Thursday. We are so very proud of you. As you know, your father got his results on Saturday and I'm afraid it's the news we were all dreading. It's lung cancer.

Geneva stopped reading there, her heart pounded in her chest, falling into a pit of sickness and despair. She got up immediately gasping, and hurried out of the Great Hall fighting the tears, trying to keep her head down. She'd just about made it outside the large oak doors when a hand pulled her back. It was Orah. She looked to see Geneva in such a state and immediately locked her into a tight embrace.

"Gen! What's happened? Was it the letter?"

Geneva's face was contorted in despair. Orah took the sleeve of her cloak and wiped her eyes, cooing words of comfort. Passers by were starting to slow down to see what the commotion was about.

"What are you looking at?!" Orah yelled, causing them scarper. She turned back to Geneva, pulling her into a corner out of the way of prying eyes. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's Dad," Geneva squeaked. "He's...he's..." but she couldn't say it. Saying it aloud would only confirm the reality. Instead, she took out the letter and handed it over.

Orah read through whilst Geneva mopped her face, taking longer than she had taken, reading the letter in it's entirety.

"Oh Gen, you didn't say anything about this," she sighed, her brow narrowing with sympathy, wrapping her arms tightly around her. Geneva's cries had now turned to gasps, muffled into the blackness of Orah's robes.

"I just didn't want it to be real," she sobbed. "I haven't read the rest of it yet. What did it say?"

Orah parted the hug. "Maybe you should read it?"

Reluctantly, Geneva took the letter and continued where she left off.

...He has a tumour on his right lung, which has grown rapidly very quickly. Unfortunately doctors have said that his lungs are so badly damaged from the smoking that the risk of the operation being unsuccessful is 95%

Geneva's hand quivered, clutching her face in disbelief. She could feel the intensity of her heart beat against her arm.

There is nothing they can do Gen. I have had time alone with my thoughts before I wrote this letter. I have been experiencing a multitude of feelings, as you can imagine. I am devastated. Doctors are predicting a year to live.

Geneva cried harder, her tears falling heavily onto the parchment, causing the ink to blur and smear, washing away like a part of herself. Orah hugged her tightly, rubbing her arm, positioning herself to ensure as much privacy as she could from other students.

"I'm sooo sorry Gen," she coaxed, knowing no words of sympathy could possibly ease the pain.

Your father and I have spoken and have finally come to a place of understanding. You know how angry I felt towards his habit over the years. I do hope that you and your father can reach these terms too. He loves you very dearly.

Rest assure Gen dear that he is not in pain. He is as you saw him at Christmas – still with the stubborn cough and breathing troubles, but other than that he still has his appetite and can reach the remote before I can.

I know it's hard, but please stay focussed on your school work. It will pay off and you will make us both proud. We will see you at Easter.

We look forward to hearing from you.

All our love, Mum and Dad XoXo

Geneva was desperate to make all of this go away, unable to comprehend the thought of her dad not being there anymore, sitting there at home whenever she returned from Hogwarts with Bracken on his lap, wearing his tweed slippers.