Cecilia's Defeat
By Lydia "Ashley" Mostafa
"There's something wrong here."
Lydia lay in her bed, fiddling with her bandages and glancing around the room uneasily. Her grey eyes flickered over the sleeping forms of her friends.
Sirius smoothed her sweat-damp tresses, kissed her forehead. He thought it was the fever; she had refused treatment for it for three days. At last, Madam Pomfrey forced it on her, only for it to not take effect. Nothing could ease her. She had not slept for that time, on edge.
"It's okay, Ly, really. You need sleep. You need to relax." Sirius said, gathering her long hair over one shoulder to cool her. She frowned, shook her head.
"I'm serious. The fever's got nothing to do with it." she insisted, her voice and _expression stern. "I really think that something's wro- look!"
Sirius turned, only to humor Lydia at first. But what he saw chilled his soul.
A tiny little girl, barely older than a toddler, stood in the center of the room. She was wearing robes much too big for her, the hood hung over her face and the sleeves hid her hands. She was the embodiment of a shadow, it seemed, as her misty form completely blotted out a shaft of moonlight. She spoke.
"Lydia, you shouldn't have lived," she hissed. "You should have died, as I died, at the hands of the Ha-Ankhmat-Neter. My death was your fault!"
Lydia flailed, frightened as the tiny hands clenched into fists inside the big robes. Sirius gathered her into his arms, staring defiantly at the angry spirit of Cecilia Mostafa.
"No, no, it wasn't! Not my fault, not my fault... I didn't... I would never... NO, CECILIA! Stay away from me! Go!" Lydia wailed.
Lethe started and woke, crawling out of bed. Megan, Serena and Artemis woke as well. However, none of them dared speak as the wraith drifted closer to Lydia and Sirius.
"Seth and Kharolis cannot stop me now, Lydia. You are eternally indebted to me. You owe your life to me!"
"I do NOT!" Lydia shouted. "My life is my own! You won't use my honor against me!"
"Your honor dooms you," Cecilia sneered. "It is as dangerous to you as a sand trap to the unwary. Do you risk dishonor to save your own skin, dear sister?"
"Not to save me," said Lydia angrily. "To save my friends."
Sirius took Lydia's hand, catching her attention.
"What's all this about honor?" He asked in a low mutter.
"As I disrespect the dead, I infringe upon my honor." Lydia answered.
"She's a wraith, isn't she? It shouldn't count." Sirius was dubious.
Lydia merely shrugged. She appeared unafraid at first glance, but her eyes held fear. Her hands trembled.
"Cecilia, just go! No one wants you here!" Lydia said, voice cracking, tears welling in her eyes.
"I won't. Not until I have been paid the debt that is due me." Cecilia shook her hooded head.
Lydia shuddered, folding her legs and wrapping her arms around them. She sobbed hysterically into her knees.
Cecilia took the opportunity. She said a few words in a strange language, and plunged the onlookers into a deep sleep, all except for Lydia and Sirius. Sirius was fighting against it, Lydia was exempt. Cecilia wanted her victim, her older sister, to be awake during her death.
"Ly, fight her... honor is unimportant... you still can... hurry." Sirius fell asleep.
Praying silently, Lydia used the one weapon she knew would defeat the wraith. Pulling Sirius to her, his head rested on her chest. She kissed his forehead, embraced the sleeping figure. Keeping her thoughts focused strong on Sirius, Lydia watched Cecilia's image flicker.
Cecilia used her last weapon as well. Staring deep into Lydia's eyes, she cast upon her the terrible memories, memories of things Lydia wanted desperately to forget.
Lydia fought against the image of Cecilia's writhing, bloody body, her dying screams of pain, indignance and anger. She brought thoughts of Sirius back to her mind, but then... it disappeared! A comforting warmth settled over Lydia, a familiar voice whispered words of hope in her ear. The voice brought Lydia to tears, and to a memory buried deep in her soul, under mounds of torment and pain.
Curled in Seth's arms, Lydia was fast falling asleep. She heard soft footsteps, smelled the aroma of her mother's sweet perfume. The fine lace of her mother's blouse sleeve brushed over Lydia's face, and Seth's... her lips pressed to Lydia's cheek in a silent goodnight.
Cecilia's eyes went wide, she stumbled. It was a strong memory with deep sentimental value.
Lydia kept the memory fresh, and then spoke but one word.
"Go."
Cecilia burst and disappeared.
The spell broke, and the others awoke. They woke to find, however, Lydia sobbing in a crumpled heap on her bed. The scent of a sweet and fragrant perfume lingered in the air, the night seemed suddenly warmer than it had before their involuntary nap.
And, hanging over the windows were different curtains. Gone were the heavy ones of thick red material.
They had been replaced by ones of fine lace.
By Lydia "Ashley" Mostafa
"There's something wrong here."
Lydia lay in her bed, fiddling with her bandages and glancing around the room uneasily. Her grey eyes flickered over the sleeping forms of her friends.
Sirius smoothed her sweat-damp tresses, kissed her forehead. He thought it was the fever; she had refused treatment for it for three days. At last, Madam Pomfrey forced it on her, only for it to not take effect. Nothing could ease her. She had not slept for that time, on edge.
"It's okay, Ly, really. You need sleep. You need to relax." Sirius said, gathering her long hair over one shoulder to cool her. She frowned, shook her head.
"I'm serious. The fever's got nothing to do with it." she insisted, her voice and _expression stern. "I really think that something's wro- look!"
Sirius turned, only to humor Lydia at first. But what he saw chilled his soul.
A tiny little girl, barely older than a toddler, stood in the center of the room. She was wearing robes much too big for her, the hood hung over her face and the sleeves hid her hands. She was the embodiment of a shadow, it seemed, as her misty form completely blotted out a shaft of moonlight. She spoke.
"Lydia, you shouldn't have lived," she hissed. "You should have died, as I died, at the hands of the Ha-Ankhmat-Neter. My death was your fault!"
Lydia flailed, frightened as the tiny hands clenched into fists inside the big robes. Sirius gathered her into his arms, staring defiantly at the angry spirit of Cecilia Mostafa.
"No, no, it wasn't! Not my fault, not my fault... I didn't... I would never... NO, CECILIA! Stay away from me! Go!" Lydia wailed.
Lethe started and woke, crawling out of bed. Megan, Serena and Artemis woke as well. However, none of them dared speak as the wraith drifted closer to Lydia and Sirius.
"Seth and Kharolis cannot stop me now, Lydia. You are eternally indebted to me. You owe your life to me!"
"I do NOT!" Lydia shouted. "My life is my own! You won't use my honor against me!"
"Your honor dooms you," Cecilia sneered. "It is as dangerous to you as a sand trap to the unwary. Do you risk dishonor to save your own skin, dear sister?"
"Not to save me," said Lydia angrily. "To save my friends."
Sirius took Lydia's hand, catching her attention.
"What's all this about honor?" He asked in a low mutter.
"As I disrespect the dead, I infringe upon my honor." Lydia answered.
"She's a wraith, isn't she? It shouldn't count." Sirius was dubious.
Lydia merely shrugged. She appeared unafraid at first glance, but her eyes held fear. Her hands trembled.
"Cecilia, just go! No one wants you here!" Lydia said, voice cracking, tears welling in her eyes.
"I won't. Not until I have been paid the debt that is due me." Cecilia shook her hooded head.
Lydia shuddered, folding her legs and wrapping her arms around them. She sobbed hysterically into her knees.
Cecilia took the opportunity. She said a few words in a strange language, and plunged the onlookers into a deep sleep, all except for Lydia and Sirius. Sirius was fighting against it, Lydia was exempt. Cecilia wanted her victim, her older sister, to be awake during her death.
"Ly, fight her... honor is unimportant... you still can... hurry." Sirius fell asleep.
Praying silently, Lydia used the one weapon she knew would defeat the wraith. Pulling Sirius to her, his head rested on her chest. She kissed his forehead, embraced the sleeping figure. Keeping her thoughts focused strong on Sirius, Lydia watched Cecilia's image flicker.
Cecilia used her last weapon as well. Staring deep into Lydia's eyes, she cast upon her the terrible memories, memories of things Lydia wanted desperately to forget.
Lydia fought against the image of Cecilia's writhing, bloody body, her dying screams of pain, indignance and anger. She brought thoughts of Sirius back to her mind, but then... it disappeared! A comforting warmth settled over Lydia, a familiar voice whispered words of hope in her ear. The voice brought Lydia to tears, and to a memory buried deep in her soul, under mounds of torment and pain.
Curled in Seth's arms, Lydia was fast falling asleep. She heard soft footsteps, smelled the aroma of her mother's sweet perfume. The fine lace of her mother's blouse sleeve brushed over Lydia's face, and Seth's... her lips pressed to Lydia's cheek in a silent goodnight.
Cecilia's eyes went wide, she stumbled. It was a strong memory with deep sentimental value.
Lydia kept the memory fresh, and then spoke but one word.
"Go."
Cecilia burst and disappeared.
The spell broke, and the others awoke. They woke to find, however, Lydia sobbing in a crumpled heap on her bed. The scent of a sweet and fragrant perfume lingered in the air, the night seemed suddenly warmer than it had before their involuntary nap.
And, hanging over the windows were different curtains. Gone were the heavy ones of thick red material.
They had been replaced by ones of fine lace.