"You're shivering again," Cassandra Vane whispered, her voice tight with a frantic, obsessive edge. She lunged forward, tucking a heavy wool blanket around Ana's knees. "I can see your shoulders shaking, Ana. Why didn't you say anything?"
"I'm just... a little tired, Cass," Ana murmured. Her voice was soft, a melodic chime that made the air in the room feel sweet.
"Tired?" Hermione snapped, though her eyes were wet with devotion as she knelt by the bed. She held a silver cup of warmed milk and honey, her hands steady as she brought it to Ana's lips. "You're exhausted because you're practically made of glass, Ana. You're so tiny—look at you. I can wrap my thumb and forefinger around your bicep with room to spare."
"I'm fine, Hermione," Ana tried to say, reaching for the cup. "I can hold it."
"Don't you dare," Hermione tutted, gently nudging Ana's hand back down onto the silk. "Your arms are like little twigs tonight. Just let me. Sip."
Ana obeyed, the "Influence" making Hermione's chest swell with a fierce, maternal pride. As Ana swallowed, Cho Chang, who had moved her things from Ravenclaw just to be near the "Queen," began to run a gold-plated brush through Ana's dark hair.
"Does it hurt?" Cho asked softly, leaning down so her cheek almost touched Ana's shoulder. "I'm being as gentle as I can. You're so petite, I feel like if I brush too hard, I'll pull you right off the bed."
"It feels nice, Cho," Ana whispered.
"Good," Cho murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Ana's head. "You just stay still. You're our little star. You don't have to do a single thing for yourself ever again."
The Ritual of the Little PrincessLavender Brown was at the foot of the bed, her hands warm with scented oil. She gingerly lifted one of Ana's feet—so small it looked like it belonged to a child half her age—and began to massage it.
"You're so skinny, Ana," Lavender cooed, her eyes wide and glassy. "I can feel every tiny bone in your foot. It makes my heart ache. Tomorrow, I'm going to the kitchens. I'm going to command the house-elves to make you double cream and treacle tart for every meal."
"I don't think I can eat that much, Lavender," Ana said with a tiny, fragile smile.
"You will if we feed it to you," Cassandra interjected, her gaze bordering on the fanatical. She was busy organizing Ana's pillows, making sure the girl was propped up perfectly. "We won't let you waste away. You're the most precious thing in this castle. You're our baby Potter. Our little Queen."
"But I want to be able to walk to class on my own," Ana tried, her silver eyes shimmering with a hint of protest.
"Absolutely not," Hermione said firmly, wiping a stray drop of milk from Ana's chin with a lace kerchief. "Ron and Harry already agreed. If the stairs start moving, one of them will carry you. You're 4 foot 6, Ana. A crowd of frantic students could knock you over without even seeing you. We're going to form a square around you at all times."
The Guarded SleepAna looked at the four of them. Hermione was staring at her as if she were a sacred text; Cho was watching her hair as if it were spun gold; Lavender was cradling her ankle; and Cassandra was watching her chest rise and fall as if counting her breaths.
"You all need to rest too," Ana commanded softly.
"We're resting right here," Cassandra whispered, sliding off the bed to sit on the rug at Ana's side, clutching the bedpost. "I'm not leaving. If you have a nightmare, I want to be the one to hold you."
"I'll stay on this side," Hermione added, resting her head on the mattress next to Ana's hip. "I'll keep the milk warm in case you wake up thirsty."
As the fire in the hearth turned to glowing embers, Ana lay cocooned in the obsessive love of her guardians. She felt smaller than ever, a tiny, skinny girl in a world of giants, but as she looked at the four girls who had turned her room into a temple, she knew she was the most powerful person in Hogwarts.