Written for Drabble Wars
Day 1
Prompt 1: "There's a lady in a dirty nightgown that I see in my dreams."
Loxias/Bellatrix Lestrange
She was edging nearer to me. Her unruly mass of curls fell down her back. Her coal black eyes were sunken into her skull, making her look like Death himself. Her ragged and dirty nightgown fell to the floor. It was covered in holes and shreds, making her look like she'd gone to war in it.
She was getting closer and closer, her mouth making words illegible to my eye. She had a smirk on her face but it wasn't one of mirth. It was one of menace. Her eyes held the same glint, one of lust for murder.
"My Master wants it, you know," She muttered in my ear, now standing behind me. This happened every night. She would taunt me, hurt and torture me. She would ask me the a million galleon question: Who has the Deathstick? I have wanted that wand for so long, even giving it its own nickname. I craved the feel of the elder wood between my fingers, the feel of the Thestral hair performing magic above everyone else's. It should be mine
"You know, he wants it as much as you," She purred in my ear. "It belongs to him. Not you. He's its true master. Not you." I felt the grime off her nightgown rubbing onto me. Someone that dirty, that poor should not be telling me what to do, who I am.
"It is my Masters," She hissed at me, now sounding as menacing as she looked.
I awoke from my dream, shaken and covered in sweat. It was like this every night. She would haunt my dreams, shaking me up and then spitting me out into a pool of cold sweat, in the real world. I still have no idea who she is.
My mother had rushed into my room, hearing my gasping after I awoke. She was still in her night clothes, though luckily they weren't dirty. I must so pathetic if my mother still comes into my room at night when I have a nightmare.
"Mother, I am fine. There is no need for you to come rushing into my room in the night," I told her. She didn't listen, surprise surprise.
"Oberon, please tell me what the matter is," she spoke to me in a soft tone "This has been happening every night; it's not good for you."
"There's a lady in a dirty nightgown that I see in my dreams." I tell her, no idea why though.
"Who is she?" She asked, apparently concerned.
"I don't know. But I have this horrible feeling that she is from the future."