Balthasar Gammaleil

I've always been a strange guy. I accept that. In fact, after a certain point, I began to embrace that. My name's Balthasar. I like my hair long, small, fuzzy animals, flowers, romance, my family close. I'm very protective over my family. I'm technically the eldest, after all. I have to be strong for them, and protect them. I have a younger sister, and a brother who likes to act like he's the eldest and the toughest. We're twins, but I'm taller, stronger and fitter. We're non-identical. Clearly. We barely look related, aside from our eyes. We have the same hazel eyes. But he's short, fat and blond, and I'm tall, athletic and dark.

And a bit effeminate, I'll admit. I skip instead of walking and I love making flower crowns and I'm very in touch with my feminine side. I remember at first, someone tried to bully me for it. Jaimes, his name was. He was funny.

Anyway, I suppose up until recently, I'd been enjoying my life. I had friends and my family, and my mum had let me get my lip pierced (though Ben teased that if I got more metal put in me, I'd be drawn to every magnet) and I was feeling confident. I was doing well at school and...well, I was happy. My mum was happy, my brother was happy, my sister was happy...we were all happy!

I'm not sure when it was that things started to go to shit. I remembered getting sick during an exam, near my OWLs, I think it was. It was an exam that was important to me, so even though I was coughing and wheezing and breathless all the way, I sat through my exams and probably distracted those around me. What can I say? It was herbology and astronomy, and those are my passions! I couldn't just let them lie. And eventually, I got bad enough that I had to go down to the hospital wing and say I'd had a chest infection for ages and never gotten it seen to. Frankly, I'd expected it to just...fade over time. They normally do that.

And then I was back, talking with my best friends. Raphael and Ben. Exams were still on. Next one was potions.
"Please tell me you studied a little before you went to the hospital wing." Ben told me. He knew me well. He knew as long as I was ill, I would be more than happy to use it as an excuse to slack off.
"Potions is useless to me anyway." I assured my brother, which he responded to with a disgusted sigh.
"And what, exactly, are you expecting to do with your life?"
"I don't know. Party?"
"I'd be happy to join you with that." Raph interjected. We laughed and Benny rolled his eyes.
"You guys don't have any plans whatsoever, do you?"
"We're winging it." Raph confirmed with a nod, running his fingers through his hair. "Do you have a plan?"
"Yeah."
I turned to him, leaning forward slightly. "What's your plan then?"
"If I tell you, you'll tease me."
"True." I sat back, crossing my arms as my brother smirked at me. We had our secrets. We wanted to surprise each other. I had no plans, of course. And that stressed me out. Benny knew that stressed me out. That was why he wouldn't tell me his plans. I kind of knew he wanted to work with children, though, and that was...sweet. I wanted children of my own in the future. A beautiful baby girl, followed by a handsome young boy. Uri and Christine, I'd name them. I like the name Uri.
"You've lost weight."
The comment seemed to come from nowhere, but I could note that Raph was now staring at my chest.
"I have?" I asked, realising he was talking about me. I knew Benny had been trying to lose weight. In fact, he exercised rigorously, as he greatly enjoyed his cardio, but his weight was stable and high.
"Yeah. Not massive amounts, but..."
"Enough to be noticeable." Benny finished.
I shifted in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable. As though suddenly my clothes would feel super loose or something. "I've been ill lately..."
"Are you sure you're totally recovered?" Raph asked softly. "You look pretty pale too, is all..."
"I'm fine." I assured them with a laugh, shaking my head. "You two are too...concerned."
"I'm your brother." Benny pointed out. "It's my job to be concerned."
"True." I conceded, checking my watch. "There's this really cute girl in Gryffindor." Raph stared at me for a moment. "What?"
"You're going to try to talk to us about girls?" Clearly, he wasn't impressed with the way I'd started. "Girls you want to bone?"
"Bally has a crush." Ben teased. "Our little boy's all grown up!"
"I didn't say I had a crush." I argued. "Or that I wanted to bone her, as you so eloquently put it. Jesus Christ, Raph. I just said I saw someone I thought was cute."
"Did she have a cute arse though?"
"I'm..not going to answer that."
"Please, it's not like I'm gonna steal her from you. If she's not Hettie, I'm not interested."
"I know. Practically the whole school knows. You'd sell your own mother for a chance to bone Hettie."
"See? Now you're saying it too!"
"Picked it up off you, didn't I?"
Benny interrupted us with "Potions." We both turned to look at him as he stood, and he gestured for us to follow him. "Potions. Exam. Come on."
Groaning, the two of us got up after him. Raph was alright with potions, but I hated it with a burning passion.

The exam went well enough. I came out of it in a bad mood because god, I hate potions classes. And exams. And potions in general. Long story short, I failed potions. But that didn't concern me. I hardly wanted to do potions in the first place. I slept well that night, and woke up early.

Quite early. To find my bedding drenched and my body slick. It was gross as fuck, let me tell you. My pillow was wet as well. I hadn't been so sweaty since...ever. Not even the most horrific of nightmares had managed this. I turned on my bedside light, rubbing my hand across my face as I tried to shake off the bleariness that came pretty much any time I woke up (my body hated mornings), and slowly opened my eyes to a none too pleasant sight. While mostly the unpleasant wetness was definitely sweat, my pillow was covered in blood. I'd had nighttime nosebleeds before. I used to get them a lot when I was little. I don't think I'd had one since puberty though. Part of me, a little childlike part, wanted to crawl out of bed and go to my brother. Wake him up, crawl into bed with him and ask him to hug me and make things better. He was good at comforting. Better than me, at any rate. Feeling distinctly woozy, I got up and made my way to the bathroom. I had to wash any lingering blood off my face and out of my hair. My chest felt tight and it seemed harder to breathe, but that was just psychosomatic. I was worried and a little scared of the dark, I'm not afraid to admit it, and having to walk around before it was light out, I was anxious, so I was finding it harder to breathe. Science. I mean, science is harder to believe when you find out you're a wizard, but still.

I got to the bathroom, snapped the light on and went to the sink by the mirror. I was starting to get what Raph was saying about me looking ill. I was paler than I thought possible, though I had just lost lord knows how much blood. It was still under my nose, on my lips and right cheek. And in my hair, of course. I looked about as tired as I felt, and there was a bruise on my chest where I'd knocked it against a desk during my exam. (I sleep topless in summer, so it was quite visible) Anyway, I washed my face and my hair as best I could, and planned to stay up until morning with a jewellery kit. When I was little, my mum spoiled me, and my brother, and my sister, as best she could. She gets money from our father, even though he has his own family and I've never met the man myself, and she wanted to shower us with...I don't know, maybe love, when my sister died. Y'see, originally I wasn't a twin, I was a triplet, but the other one died when we were very little. Little enough that I hardly remember her, but I remember the doctors. I remember the doctors, and the rush, and the way my mother cried most nights, and the thin, sickly child being made to feel far worse by whatever the doctors were doing to her. It's a horrible memory. Anyway, where was I going with this? Oh yeah, I used to love the aisle of toys that was all pink and pretty. I wanted all the dolls and jewellery things and fashion kits and ponies. And my mother was happy to buy them for me if it made me happy. So I had jewellery kits in my room and I was good with the slightly more professional stuff as well. Within reason.

Once I'd washed up, I took another look at myself in the mirror. Though I wasn't as athletic as Benny, I always had some muscle on me. Muscular arms, good pectorals, possibly a little in the way of, well, maybe abs, I'm not sure. Anyway, after a moment of staring at myself, I did have to admit I'd lost a little weight. Deciding I wanted to keep my body the way it was, I decided I would join Benny's little exercise regime tomorrow. Or today. Whichever it was. I collected my dressing gown and jewellery kit, and went down into the common room, settling into an armchair and deciding I would make a beautiful necklace.

I woke up. It was bright, and I was slumped in my chair, my back hurting and body stiff from simply being in an awkward position.
"He's got a fever. Not a very high one, but he's a bit warm."
"So should we tell Pomfrey? He won't wake up."
"He's just a heavy sleeper. He'll be fine."
Three voices from above me. I cracked an eye open. Two girls and a boy. I recognised them easily. Cherrie Swanson-Hyde and Tim Twitchell, I rarely spoke to, but they were in my year and house, so I knew them, and they knew me. Felix Schnorhavorian, I again wasn't especially close to him. "What time is it?" I asked.
"Uh..."
"Quarter past one." Cherrie answered before Felix could get his head together.
"What?" I sat up straight, and they moved back so I could get up. My jewellery kit fell to the floor and I swore. "Why didn't anyone wake me?"
"Well, we couldn't." Tim answered as she picked up my beads for me. "Well, you told Ben to leave you alone."
"I don't remember that."
"You weren't totally with it."
Felix spoke up next. "Thought you'd be up by now though. There's blood all over your pillow, by the way."
"I know." I snapped as I wandered up the stairs to my dorm. I heard them talking behind me as I went. I honestly hadn't felt that tired when I'd sat down. I don't think I got further than opening my box before I'd dropped off. The house elves would take care of my pillow, so I left it and got dressed. My chest was feeling weird and tight and uncomfortable again. I felt ill.

The next day I got another god damn chest infection. Every damn breath was one of those annoying rattly ones. And the next week, we were going home. The year was over and I was free. I fell asleep on the train, under the concerned gaze of Benny and a Gryffindor boy we were friends with. See, when we got home, I thought it would all be fine. I could sleep more and get over whatever was wrong with me. I stepped off the train, my mum took one look at me and instantly her hands were on me, asking if I was alright. Asking how long I'd been ill for and why I hadn't sent her a letter. I told her I just wanted to get home and she reluctantly agreed. It just kind of went downhill from there. I was getting worried about myself. As well as the infections coming back way too often, I woke up most nights with wet covers and a bloody pillow. I was tired all the time, my weight kept dropping (I wasn't muscular any more, whoops) and there was this stupid rash near my shoulder and everything was stiff and hurty. I honestly had no idea what was  going on until my mum made a doctor's appointment for me...behind my back...but hey, I appreciated it, I guess. Right up until my mum actually spoke to the doctor.
"It's a...I think it might be cancer. I've seen it before, with my daughter. And even if it isn't, it's clear he's very, very sick and I just need to know what's wrong with him!"
That was what she'd said. It unnerved me more than anything that had happened so far. And there were tests, and multiple doctors, and ashen faces that held the promise of bad news. I cried. While I waited for all the results of some stupid biopsy, I dug my nails into my palms and played with my bracelets and rings and I cried. I was scared, and all I knew was that there was some abnormality or something in my blood and they needed to do this test and I might have been dying. And I didn't know where my mum was, and my brother and sister were at home, and I felt alone, and scared. And scared.

She turned up again when an oncologist spoke to us. He was talking about what he'd found. Or what they'd found. And how to help get rid of it. Aggressive leukaemia. Blood transfusions, antibiotics, chemotherapy...
"No..."
"Balthasar?" The name sounded weird on the doctor's tongue. He wasn't used to it. He was a muggle doctor, and probably not used to the kind of names my mum chose simply because they sounded unusual. He was tall, taller than me, and young, and needed a shave.
"I don't want chemotherapy."
"I know it sounds quite daunting, and this is quite a shock to you-"
"No, I don't want it! It's what they gave to Brieta, isn't it? It's the stuff that makes you even weaker and kills the healthy cells and the unhealthy ones and drains you so much but it can't even guarantee survival. It's not worth it and I'd rather die at my own rate."
My mother placed a hand on my shoulder. One of us was shaking. I wasn't sure which one. "Listen to what you're saying, Balthasar. You don't want to die..."
"No. No, I don't but...but I don't want to feel worse and I don't want to struggle and I want to pretend I'm normal and I don't want...I don't want chemotherapy. I refuse. I absolutely refuse."
"Balthasar!" My mother snapped, horrified. "Think about this! You're being ridiculous! Think about someone other than yourself for once-"
"Mrs Gammaleil-" The doctor interjected.
"Miss! And shut up!"
"I'm just saying, shouting at your son won't help. Balthasar...may be in shock, and maybe he isn't thinking straight, but maybe he is. For now, we should give him time to think things over, and I'll make sure he has all the facts, okay?"
And he did. And someone else came to talk to me to make sure I was thinking straight, and I had to talk to more people, and eventually it was settled. I'd take blood and antibiotics and painkillers but I wouldn't take chemotherapy. I became DNR. Or got a DNR. Whatever it is.

And I returned to school. I was still dreadfully ill, but I didn't tell any of my classmates, until I got a girlfriend. I mean, I couldn't keep it from her forever. She was lovely. Warm hugs and gentle nature and she loved my romantic side. I liked using what money I had to give her gifts. I also made her things. Flower crowns and bracelets and necklaces, and I liked plaiting her hair and I liked the kisses and the nights she would join me under the stars. I loved watching the stars with her, and we danced in the rain and sang songs and went for meals and spoke of wonderful things and made love and even went out to get a dog! Getting a dog was on my bucket list, you see. It was Raph who told me to make a bucket list. Apparently he'd made one, so I did too. And Mysteria helped me realise it. I got her name tattooed on my back.

You might understand, you might not, but I love her so much. I love every moment I spend with her and I am sure it's not just infatuation. The time of butterflies in my stomach and fireworks in my head has long since passed. I got her gold-plated roses. Sometimes, I think she felt overwhelmed with the gifts I gave her. It was fun, though. I didn't spoil her, but if I saw something she liked or I got some inspiration for jewellery, I'd jump at the chance.

I'd decided to take her out for a date. It was late, and a lovely evening, and I'd been wavering between a picnic and a restaurant. I took her out to restaurants before, though, and I thought maybe a picnic would be nice. We could watch the sun set, if my nose would stop bleeding. For about half an hour, I'd been trying to stem a nosebleed. I threw yet another tissue into the bin and stared at my reflection. It seemed to be finished, so I made sure it wasn't too visible, and wandered off to the kitchens to retrieve the picnic food I'd requested from the elves. They'd seemed very happy to make it for me, so I didn't feel guilty, and it had to be said, those elves sure could cook.

She knew I was ill by now. She knew I was dying. I knew she was sad about it, but at this point in time, it really didn't matter. So I went downstairs, as fast as I could as I couldn't risk being late. She would worry. I didn't want her to worry. I was in such a hurry, I got to the front entrance before her. After a minute or so, she walked up behind me.
"Bally, hey! You weren't waiting long, were you?"
"No," I assured her, "not at all. I was worried I might be late, actually."
"I don't think you've ever been late." Mysteria told me, taking my hand and leading me along.
"I'm always a little too early?" I asked with a slight chuckle.
"You're fine."
"I'm a smooth operator." She was more than used to my antics by now, and rolled her eyes with a sarcastic 'sure'. We wandered for a bit before I stopped and tried to lay out a blanket over the floor. I'd wanted to do it like on TV, where they do it in one flick and it covers everywhere it needs to cover, but it didn't work like that. Instead it flapped up and caught over my head, making me stumble until Mysti helped me, laughing a little. "Hold still!" She told me as she got the blanket to stop hugging me.
"Okay, that didn't quite go as planned." I mused, smirking before moving away, stretching the blanket between us and placing it down.
"Maybe it just likes you."
"Please, I'm sure anything would prefer me to the mud."
"Well, I'll admit you're better...marginally." She teased as I started unloading the basket.
"A very, very wide marginally."
"Not that wide."
"Must be very good dirt, then."
We sat, side by side. Cuddled up. Though it was a warm day, I was annoyingly cold. Cuddling up helped, but I do think she noticed, because she slung her cloak around me. She said something in response, but I didn't pay attention. I rested my head on her shoulder and kissed her cheek, and fell asleep before the sun set. Stupid. She kept me at her side, though, though I'm sure I drooled on her as I slept. Someone, I doubt it was her, carried me to my bed when it was dark. I woke up there, somewhat frightened to be shrouded in shadows, and I thought.

I thought, now I was alone (as when I was with Mysti or Benny or Alithia, I was happy and my thoughts were always cheerful) about what would come next. How this darkness would become everything. I would be nothing more than a soul, flitting from shadow to shadow, nothing to sustain me. I wouldn't even become a ghost. I'd be nothing. The strange movements out of the corner of someone's eye. I thought about being buried. I'd watched something once, where people were still aware after they'd died. I had no idea what would happen next, but every thought was an unpleasant one. I needed...I needed people to know what I wanted. Slowly, I sat up, flicking on my bedside lamp and reaching for my schoolbag, looking for paper and something to write with. I started writing, quick and somewhat messy. My handwriting had never been the neatest, no swirly, pretty letters or calligraphy. It was just about legible. My mother could read it. The teachers had gotten used to it. It didn't help when something fell on the paper, made the ink run. I was crying. I was doing that far too often lately. I let things get to me and thought about death too much and I cried whenever I was alone. There were two things I hated more than anything else. The dark and loneliness. Everyone around me was asleep, and I couldn't get into the girls' dorms, let alone those in the Gryffindor common room. Once I was finished writing, I folded the paper up, placed it into one of my brother's drawers and got into his bed. He didn't wake up, and I kept crying until everything had clogged up and I couldn't breathe and I knew I had to stop. Calm down. Peace. I hated peace.


((Okay, I think I accidentally made him slightly younger than I was supposed to, primarily because I got confused over O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts in the Harry Potter universe and when they occur. Mysteria Craven and Cherrie Swanson-Hyde belong to my friend. The others who appear (not including Pomfrey and Hettie, who are just name mentions) are all mine. I haven't actually got permission to use Hettie in my stories yet, but I've used characters by the same person without any complaint from them...In writing this, I had nothing specific in mind when I started. I just wanted to write and see where my fingers took me. I specifically cut out Balthasar actually meeting Mysteria because that was roleplayed once and I can't remember for the life of me what actually happened. Also I have never tried to write Mysti before and I apologise if I didn't do very well. Anyway, the point is this will probably come out as awkward and weird and eh. Technically, however, it is writing practice, hence the lack of planning.))