Rainclouds were rolling overhead, rapidly obscuring the vast azure expanse of the sky. Their grey, stormy frames casting grim shadows over the park. She shivered. Mothers started picking up their children and pulling them by the hands, eager to get home as quickly as possible as the fine, wet mist descended upon them; giving the whole park an ethereal air. The park quickly emptied and soon she was the only one left. Sitting alone on her bench by the once bright red railings, they had long since faded and peeled to a sickly pink.
It was happening again, the cold, dread filled fog would crash down onto them, bringing to the forefront their deepest fears and darkest memories. A feeling of despair would run through them, they made you feel like you would never be happy again. And then suddenly, the fog would lift, the sun's warm rays would splash down onto them and the worry and fear would be forgotten, happy memories would come flooding back and everything went back to normal. But there were stories. Stories of people who did not go back to normal, did not remember happiness. It was pin-pointed onto depression of course, dementia, any medical condition that may explain it was blamed, and doctors were clutching at straws trying to figure out what was going on.
She had seen one of these people once, during one of the brief respites from the other-worldly mist. It was a young woman, barely older than herself; she was sitting on the ground, staring unseeingly into space. There was a young boy, around three, tugging at her leg, crying, begging her to answer him, tell him what was going on. But the woman did not notice him, her gaze did not focus on anything, it was simply as if she had drifted off and left nothing but an empty body, a shell.
She shivered again and pulled her knees up into her chest, hugging them tightly as spectral fingers brushed against her unprotected cheek and the anguish welled up inside her, her eyes filling with tears as her worst memories were relived behind her closed eyelids. The images dancing taunting her, filling her with so much misery and sorrow that she cried out in pain.
She may not know what was going on but she knew that it shouldn't be happening, that whatever was causing this shouldn't be here, and that it shouldn't exist.
The spectral fingers seemed to be solidifying, hands grasping at her, cold and clammy. She felt something tighten around her delicate neck and slowly she started rising, choking, gasping for breath as an invisible being pulled her off the bench into a standing position, struggling and still slowly being lifted into the air. Panic washed over her, obliterating all other emotions, she clawed desperately at the, thing, clenched around her pale throat. She felt all the breath being pulled out of her mouth as her glasses fell to the ground and smashed as she continued to struggle against the unseen force. She had the sudden frantic feeling that she was losing something, something precious, but what it was, she did not know.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" A bright silvery terrier leapt out of nowhere and she suddenly found herself falling to the ground. She landed awkwardly on her wrist and winced as she felt a jolt of pain go through it. She tried to put it out of her mind and slowly froze as shock set in and her eyes glazed over as her mind tried to cope with what had just transpired. "Stupid dementors," the man was muttering irritably, "didn't realise there would be any roaming about muggle neighbourhoods. First snatchers and now this, just my luck." His face softened as he spotted her motionless on the ground.
"Shit!" he muttered quietly to himself as she continued gazing unseeingly into the distance, too shocked to speak or even move. Her short, honey blonde hair was plastered to her forehead with the, now heavily pouring, rain. "Merlin's beard," he whispered under his breath, almost as if he had forgotten she was there. "What do I... they must have gotten her... they were so close... there's no way... maybe..." his unintelligible mutterings continued before, unexpectedly, he turned to her "Miss?" she mentally jumped startled by his sudden proximity, but still she did not move, apart from the incessant trembling that had seized her body, nor did she return his inquisitive gaze.
"Miss? Can you hear me?" her heart was pounding rapidly, who was this, this man? And what did he want with her? Did he think she was deaf? That she needed help? That she was one of them?
"Miss" He was abruptly in front of her, kneeling down so his face was levelled with hers. He suddenly hissed violently as he put his hand down to steady himself and his palm came into contact with the shattered red frames that had slipped from her nose. He gingerly picked them up and hesitated for a moment, before straightening out the arms and sliding them gently behind her ears. Her eyes widened slightly as the world came into focus despite the large crack down one lens and the chunks of glass missing from the other. "What's your name? Can you tell me what your name is, Miss?" she gasped as the previously blurry figure appeared in front of her. She took in every detail of his face as he pleaded silently with her to speak.
His vibrant red hair was sticking to his pale skin as the rain continued to drench them both, falling into his eyes as he ran a worried hand through it. She realised he was not as old as she had originally thought; he could only be seventeen, eighteen at the most, the same age as her. A light spattering of freckles covered his cheeks and continued down his long nose. His mouth was twisted into a concerned grimace as he stared apprehensively at her, waiting, longing for a reply. She blinked as she met his inquiring gaze, his piercing blue eyes were distraught, and he looked almost on the verge of tears. She continued staring, mesmerised, for who knew how long.
Finally he tore himself away and stood up, looking away, a single tear spilling over and trickling down his cheek, "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely, "I'm so, so, sorry," He leaned over an pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and slowly turned away and started walking back to the spot he had appeared from.
"Alina," she whispered eventually. "My name is Alina,"
But he was gone.
Just like magic.