Work Text:
It was a long walk from the kitchens to the top of Ravenclaw Tower, but Helga made the journey every day without fail, levitating pottage, pies, and other delicacies to tempt her friend’s fickle appetite. Rowena was deep in one of her frenzied bouts of research, so she was liable to neglect herself as much as her Hogwarts duties.
She found Rowena asleep in her study, quill still in hand. Her lanky limbs twitched and a frown etched premature wrinkles into her angular face: restless even in sleep.
“Oh, Rowena,” Helga murmured. Salazar had abandoned them and now another founder was driving herself to an early grave. It pained Helga to witness, a visceral ache that stirred something unsettling in her gut.
She reached to loosen Rowena’s grip on the quill. If only Rowena would allow herself to be nourished, instead of shunning tenderness in the name of genius. How Helga longed to cloak her in softness!
Rowena yawned, stirred, then smiled. “Oh! Helga.”
Helga stepped away in case she’d been caught staring, but Rowena squeezed her hand. “Stay with me a while.”
Helga savored the memory of Rowena’s smile and their entwined hands all the way down the stairs.