Suddenly, Septimus had grabbed her and when Cedrella felt that tugging from behind her navel, she realized with a sense of dread that they were Apparating. As she tried as hard as she could to repel that familiar sick feeling from the pit of her stomach, Cedrella grabbed ahold of Septimus and clung to him until her feet were safely on the ground. She swatted his hand off of her as he began testing for a fever--it wouldn't do to get sick all over him. And yet, nothing could hold back the spasms of nausea and before she knew it, she was being sick all over poor Septimus's shoes.
"Oh-- Ugh," she cried out in frustration; how long had she been sick like this? Cedrella had lost count, and she was fed up. She would go to the Healer, he would heal her and she would be well again, in the name of all things sacred. She would be better, she had to. "I'm sorry," she mumbled to the young man in front of her. She was beyond mortified that he was seeing her like this, just so embarrassed that she was careful not to look him in the eye as she spoke to him.
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