AN: So I'm just putting this out there to see what happens and where it goes. It's a little different style than my other stories but I hope you all enjoy it. Please review and be as brutally honest as you feel you need to be. I can take it. I'm hoping this will get me out of my rut and backing into writing and working on my other stories. Again, hope you like it if not that's ok, neither do I.
Chapter One:
Begin again.
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Girl take a seat
Rest your weary bones
Your secrets safe in my hands
Tell me about the years
And let me buy an hour
Maybe help me to understand
Ain't nobody calling
Ain't nobody home
What a lovely day to be lonely
I couldn't feel my toes.
My progress through the dark was slow and frightening. What little moonlight broke through the trees above gave me a rough outline of what was in front of me, but beyond was still black and unknown. But I didn't let myself stop, the black unknown behind me and inside me was far more terrifying. I forced each step, urged myself onward, grappling from tree to tree, over roots and rocks and sudden banks and dips. I tripped and fell and stumbled and cried, but I never stopped. I knew that if I did, I probably wouldn't move again.
Time was a weak concept to my already weak mind, but I couldn't have been walking more than an hour and a half. Yet nothing had changed, the scenery was the same, I hadn't made any progress at all it seemed, I was starting to think I was going in circles-or worse, that I was going to remain lost. I was on the verge of complete and total exhaustion and it was starting to get harder and harder to make my body move, it fought me-but I fought back.
I started to talk aloud to myself, it anchored me and brought me some level of comfort. It didn't make me feel so alone. I said anything and everything that came to mind; from useless bits of trivia that I knew-the capital city of Denmark-to my times tables-as high as I could go-to bits and pieces of a song-I even started telling jokes. All generic, useless things; colors without any lines, without any boundaries or shapes to form a picture, an image of who I was, who I am-just what I knew, just a blurry mess. I was a blurry mess.
The trivial knowledge should've made me feel less empty, but it didn't.
I could feel another bought of tears build up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall, I scrubbed at my face impatiently-
Somewhere behind me, a twig snapped.
I froze instantly, one foot still mid step, I held my breath and strained my ears. There was another snap, a rustle of something moving along the forest floor-towards me. I was immediately seized, stuck in a paralyzing moment of indecision, of fear-a dozen different awful scenarios bombarded me simultaneously, each ending in me being mauled or dead-but it passed over me quickly and then I was running. I ran blindly and recklessly, crashing through trees and bushes and darkness.
I knew I was being irrational, I was letting my fear overcome me and force me to over react to what was probably some harmless creature, but the blankness in my head was making it hard to think straight, to be rational and calm. I felt too jumbled to try so even when I couldn't hear any other noises of pursuit, when I knew it was safe, I still didn't stop running.
I didn't stop until I reached the light.
The sudden appearance of it, faint, but warm and yellow in the dim, made me stumble to a stop immediately-stuck once more, but this time in suspended awe, almost disbelief. I waited, breathless, sore and weak, just in case it was just my imagination, or maybe stray moonlight, but it didn't move. I shuffled forward and it grew brighter, illuminating just faintly the trees around me, thick and tall silhouettes. I couldn't tell what the source was, a house maybe, a street lamp or a car? At this point I hardly cared. I walked only a little further before the light disappeared behind a slight incline ahead, which I climbed hastily with my new found energy.
I stayed crouched as I reach the top, steadying myself against another tree, and strained my eyes to see in the weak light. Heavy mist hung low in the air, acting as a natural camouflage, but I saw the outlines of a large structure in the distance, the yellow glow from a multitude of windows and torches. The mist obscured most of my view but it looked like a castle; high pointed towers, stones walls. It sat on a steep hill, though I couldn't tell what was on the other side. A long stretch of dewy grass lay between me and it, and I suddenly wasn't sure if I wanted to cross it. Steeling my nerves I took a few tentative steps forward, when just a few yards away a figure steps out of the tree line. I made a disgruntled sound in my throat despite myself and retreated back, my feet slipping on the slick leaves noisily.
The figure stopped, startled, and turned towards me. It was a man, not very old but not very young, tall with a neat mustache and a thick head of curls. He looked just as surprised to see me as I was him, blue eyes wide and mouth parted in shock. Then his eyes flicked down briefly, his expression would've been funny under any other circumstance but this one, and he quickly turned back away-and the sudden fact of my current nudity hit me mercilessly and I spun around to hide behind a tree with a half shriek half gasp. I could practically feel the heat from my cheeks in the cool evening air.
"Wait!" He called out, and my heart pounded as I heard his approach.
"Wait, it's alright, I'm not going to hurt you." I didn't know if I believed that, and I couldn't decided to stay or run-but I knew I couldn't get far, not after all that I had already run tonight and as a man I knew he would be faster. That left me with very few other options. Hands shaking, I bit my lip, closed my eyes and took a few more deep breaths.
I'm lost. I need someone.
I poked my head around the tree and regard him warily where he stopped a few feet away, hands held out in a gesture of good intentions. He studied my face for a moment-I couldn't imagine the state it was in, and was glad I didn't know-then offered me a small smile which I didn't return, arms wrapped firmly around my chest, which he noted and graciously kept his eyes on my face. He glanced over his shoulder, back at the castle, and the surrounding fields, then back to me, his brow now furrowed in confusion and concern.
"What-what are you doing out here, in the Forbidden Forest at this time of night-." He broke off awkwardly and I knew he was going to add, and naked, but stopped himself. His voice was kind, and had a twinge of a sophisticated accent. He wore brown slacks with a white collared shirt, a crimson waistcoat with gold trimmings and bronze buttons. He had a black robe over it all, a pair of glasses tucked into the outer pocket and a dark blue handkerchief clutched in one hand. He used it to wipe nervously at the back of his neck and chin.
'I could ask you the same thing.' The snarky remark popped into my head, but I didn't voice it aloud, inwardly amused I was apparently so sassy.
"It's alright." He repeated. I wanted to vehemently disagree with that and tell him exactly how not a single thing of any of this was alright, but I still kept my thoughts to myself and went with a safer response.
"Who are you?" My voice wasn't as strong as it had been a few hours ago, it was dry and harsh with thirst and exertion, coming out a raspy whisper. But the man heard it nonetheless and dabbed at his throat with his handkerchief and grinned.
"Oh, yes, where are my manners. Silverthorn, Professor Sabastian J. Silverthorn. How do you do, miss-?" He paused and looked at me expectantly. I dug my fingers into the flesh of my arm and stamped the ever persistent urge to cry-God, I hoped I wasn't this much of a cry baby normally-because I didn't know.
"I-I don't know where I am." I said instead and his brow furrowed again. I continued before I lost any and all courage I had left and ruined my chance of getting answers and the much needed help. I felt the void of my missing memories pulse behind my ears and treacherously my eyes teared up at the corners.
"I am completely lost, and confused, and cold and very tired, not to mention naked, and I just need to know-to understand what's happening to me, so please, please will you help me-I don't-I-" It was all coming out in a pathetic tumble of babble and I couldn't stop it, I felt my throat tightening, my words coming faster and higher, I was nearly shouting. Professor Silverthorn took a step closer and I flinched.
"Shhh shhh, wait, please. Slow down my dear girl, take a moment to breath. It's alright." The use of that word again made me want to do the opposite of calm down but I did stop trying to speak, and a few more deep breaths helped put a stopper on my stream of momentary hysteria. He shrugged his black cloak from his shoulders and held it out to me like one would offer food to a wild animal.
"Firstly, take this, I insist." Hesitating, I slowly reached out, and he looked away as I did so. I didn't waste time putting it on, grateful for its warmth and cover. He made no other move to touch me and waited until I was done.
"Thank you." I managed softly. He nodded at my huddled form, cloak gripped tightly in my hands, tucked firmly under my chin. The last thing I needed was for it to fly open or slip through my fingers. It smelled like coffee and leather and pine trees. I filed those scents away in the back of my mind, in the small, but growing folder of things I knew and recognized.
"Now, before anything else is said and done, let's get you inside and warmed up, hmm?" I hoped I wasn't dreaming-well, yes I did, I hoped all of this was a cruel, sick nightmare I could wake up from-but I hoped I didn't trip in my mad dash through the forest and knocked myself into unconsciousness. I didn't want to risk opening my mouth again in fear I would cry or say something gushingly stupid and embarrassing-my hero-so I simply nodded sheepishly.
"And I'd say a hot cup of tea wouldn't hurt either." He winked at me and swept an arm towards the silent, mysteriously inviting castle, stepping aside to let me pass. I still hesitated, but with a quick glance at the darkness behind me, I knew it was about time I had some light. I followed as he lead us across the grass, the feeling of it on my bare feet felt better than I could describe in words. A small, tentative smile curved the corners of my mouth for a brief moment, the castle looming closer.
Not so lost anymore.
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It was huge.
Bigger than I had previously thought, even half hidden in ghostly mist. I caught a glimpse of big wooden doors that could have only been the front door, but Professor Silverthorn led us in another direction, through another sets of doors. They we still impressive. I tried not to take in everything at once and overwhelm myself even further-I felt I had officially put the over in overwhelmed at this point-but it was almost impossible not to. Everything was too interesting, the courtyard, the stone arch ways, it was really very beautiful, something straight out of a fairytale.
The inside was significantly warmer and I could finally feel my toes. The hall we had entered was empty, the walls danced with flickering shadows cast by a row of lit torches. Professor Silverthorn was the one to speak first, glancing over at me as we walked.
"We're going to my office, so you can sit and rest for a spell, while I fetch Headmaster Dippet and we can decide on the next course of action." He spoke in a hushed voice. Headmaster sounded important, so did professor, and both were synonymous with school, and school was not the first thought I had when I saw this place. We passed a few paintings, the occasional suit of armor, doors and stairways and I wondered, if this was a school of sorts, what it was they taught here. Fine dining? Medieval history? Maybe science or medicine. Or maybe this was a castle full of vampires. I inwardly snorted at that, I truly was tired for my mind to wonder that far.
The next course of action.
What would that even be? I had no idea how anyone could help me, though the hope that someone could, which was what brought me here in the first place, was quickly diminishing now that I was in better sorts and rational. It was a hefty assumption, a daunting task that I suddenly felt guilty for, dumping myself into the laps of strangers, lost and empty and useless and expected them to help me, fix me. Where would they start? What would they do with me? Fear returned and replaced the guilt-what would they do with me.
Relax. They aren't going to kick you out like a stray dog. Right? They'll call the authorities or someone more equipped to help me, find someone who knows me and everything will be taken care of. Maybe someone is searching for me right now.
My heart ached at the thought.
Right?
"You never did tell me your name." Professor Silverthorn teased conversationally, I jumped, and a lump formed in my throat. I wanted to tell him, I did, I wanted to be able to connect to someone, and I considered just telling him one, but it wouldn't have been mine. I wanted it to be mine. But if I told him the truth it would lead to a twisted path of more questions I didn't have the answers to-they might actually throw me out, not bother with me-and I wasn't ready for that path, not yet. But I was speaking before I could really make up my mind.
"I don't know it." I wanted to sound calm and casual about it but it came out sullen and despondent.
We turned the corner and ascended a flight of stairs. He paused on the third step, and looked down at me, his blue eyes bright in the sparse light. He looked more sad than confused, and I wanted to shrink away from his gaze, embarrassed and anxious. I wanted to sink into the floor.
"I see." He finally said after a moment of uncomfortable silence. Then he was grinning again, taking the steps quickly so I had to lift my borrowed cloak to my knees so I wouldn't trip as I hurried to keep up.
"We are just about there." Sure enough after another short hallway we came to a door, and Professor Silverthorn pulled something from the front pocket of his trousers. I hadn't noticed it before, it looked like a long pencil, he flicked it at the handle of the door and with a soft click it opened. I blinked once, then twice to make sure I had seen what I had seen, but he was already through the door, holding it open for me. I shuffled inside, suddenly a little weary, the paranoia from the forest hadn't quite left me it seemed. We were alone and he had the upper hand in every way. Maybe I had made a mistake following him in here after all-I braced myself for any sort of attack or surprise, but he advanced further into the room without a glance back.
It was a classroom.
Rows of desks took up the majority of the space, neat wooden tables and chairs. The walls were lined with cabinets and shelves, the only light source being whatever reached through the windows and the unlit wall mounted candelabras were useless, so I couldn't see most of what was on or in them. But there were jars and strange containers and objects of indiscernible natures and uses, books and what I thought was a skeleton in the corner. The shadowed places were the most unsettling. So caught in my study I didn't notice Professor Silverthorn had already crossed the classroom and was patiently holding another door open for me. I avoided touching anything and quickly entered his office. His office wasn't much different-in two words, organized chaos. But it was cozy and had personality, personality that had exploded everywhere. There wasn't a single empty space, except for a chair behind a small wooden desk. There was another off to the side that I hadn't seen, the professor leading me to it-not before moving a large stack of papers and scrolls from the seat.
I didn't really sit, more of collapsed as my knees gave out. Professor Silverthorn busied himself with a teapot he had unearthed from beneath a pile of what looked like maps. He pulled the pencil from his pocket again-no, it was a stick, a long slender stick-and with a curt wave a tea cup floated over from across the room. Another wave and the spout of the teapot started to steam and whistle, it poured the water into the cup, not spilling a drop, then it began to float towards me. It was at that point that I wasn't sure if I was awake or not, maybe I had already nodded off, or if my imagination had gone totally out of control. Automatically, robotically, I reached up and grabbed it, the warmth seeping into my hands immediately. I blinked at it, stupefied, but intrigued.
"That should do you better. I'll return shortly with the Headmaster." I could only nod as he hurried out. I took an experimental sip of my tea and was surprised and pleased that it was good, and it filled me from the inside out with comforting heat. Hallucinations or not, it was the best thing-as far as I knew with the knowledge I had, didn't have-I had ever tasted. I studied the office a little closer, taking note of all the odd things-things I couldn't even begin to identify, mixed with things I could, but it was still strange to find them all together. It spoke a lot about the Professor, but I still couldn't figure out what he taught.
History? Or maybe Geography.
I let the events of the night rewind through my mind, I settled back in the soft upholstery of my chair and wondered what the Headmaster was like, and whether or not one of the people in the paintings we had passed had actually yawned or not, or if that was just another hallucination. This whole thing was probably an hallucination, I laughed aloud at that, what a hallucination...very vivid..and terrifying-I swore that man yawned, this is really good tea...this chair is really comfortable, I can't believe he saw me naked-
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"-I don't believe she's a student-"
"-I've never seen her before-"
I started awake, the rest of the tea in my cup sloshed over the side onto my lap. Three people were crowded inside Professor Silverthorns office, Professor Silverthorn being one of them, the other two were more strangers. I didn't even hear any of them come in, or realize I had fallen asleep. The one Professor Silverthorn had spoken to was older, heavier set and in contrast to the professor's auburn curls had a shiny, balding head. He wore maroon robes, ornately decorated and embroidered, he was watching me with stern brown eyes. The other man was older as well, long red hair and beard, his robes brighter and more humble in design. He was smiling at me, and I quickly sat up straighter, making sure my own robe was covering my knees.
"We apologize for startling you." The man with the red beard addressed me. My face warmed.
"It's alright, I didn't mean to nod off."
"This is Professor Albus Dumbledore." Professor Silverthorn introduced.
Dumbledore, what an odd name. Coming from the girl who doesn't have one.
"He was in the Headmasters office when I came in, I think he can help us, you, as well."
The balding man cleared his throat, tugging on his robes and lifting his chin.
"Good evening, I am Headmaster Dippet, Professor Silverthorn has informed us of the peculiar circumstances of your arrival. He said you seem rather confused and also mentioned you are unaware of your name." I blinked the sleep from my eyes, swallowed, and nodded.
"Yes, sir." Dumbledore stroked his beard and gazed at me, contemplative.
"Can you remember anything else?" A head shake this time, "Are we to also assume then that you have no memory of have you arrived in the Forbidden Forest?" He asked, another nod.
"I don't remember how I got there, or anything before then. As strange as it sounds, I woke up without my memories." I took a sip of my now cold tea to clear my throat and calm my nerves. The three men exchanged a look I didn't know if I liked or not.
"Well that is curious indeed, my dear." Dumbledore chuckled, but I didn't think it was very funny.
"You must understand the position this puts us in young lady, we have never, ah, encountered a situation like yours before here at Hogwarts-that is to say we are unsure of how to provide aid."
"But rest assured we will help you in every way we can." Professor Silverthorn assured quickly. Headmaster Dippet purses his lips.
"Yes, in every way that we can." I felt the guilt from earlier return like a sharp pinch. I spoke quickly, a touch desperately.
"I don't want to be a burden more than I already have. So maybe if you can call the police and have them pick me up they can help me figure all this out." The three men blinked at me like I had grown a second head. Oh great, what did I say something wrong, did I offended them somehow? I felt a dread wrapped embarrassed flush creep up the back of my neck.
"Or if you don't have a phone, a letter or something?" I said, hoping to be helpful, but they still looked at me with the same perplexed look. Professor Dumbledore was the first to come out of the stupor, he looked down at me over his half moon glasses with the kind of face you have while explaining something difficult to a child.
"My dear, I'm afraid we have no phones, and no police, at least not the kind I believe you are referring to." He said softly, and my heart sank.
"Are you a muggle, girl?" Headmaster Dippet asked with his perpetually purses lips and narrowed eyes. Muggle? I waited for the word to register in my brain, but nothing came close except for mugger, and I don't think that was what he was asking. My head was swimming, I clutch my tea cup with trembling hands. No phones or police, what had Dumbledore meant?
Where was I?
"A muggle? I don't know, I don't even know what that is, but I don't think so." It came out a little squeaky and defensive but if it was a bad thing, and judging by the look on Dippet's face it wasn't exactly a good thing, then I didn't want to be one and they refuse to help me because of it.
"He means, do you have any magic?" Professor Silverthorn supplied encouragingly, he could probably sense my growing dread and confusion and I was glad he was on my side still. I didn't know where Dumbledore stood and now it seems Headmaster Dippet didn't trust me, but at least I had a friend, or an advocate of sorts.
Magic.
The word echoed in my head. My stomach twisted, and my palms began to get sweaty.
What does that mean?
"Magic? I don't know what you mean by that either. Should I?" I couldn't think what else they could mean by magic, but they couldn't possibly mean magic magic, but then again Professor Silverthorn made the teapot and teacup move with that stick of his, without even touching it. I guess that certainly counted as magic-but magic wasn't real. But what if it was and I had just forgotten it was along with everything else, but no, that didn't feel right. Then maybe I was a muggle. What was happening here? Just when I thought things were starting to look up and make sense.
I think I'm going to be sick.
"I-I really don't know, I don't feel like I have magic, but maybe I do. It's just like I said I don't remember anything about myself or my life before now, I don't know why, I'm trying-" a hand was placed on my shoulder and I looked up into twinkling blue eyes, and I realized I was crying. A drop fell into my cup, and the rest down my cheeks and neck. I was breathing heavily and it wasn't just my hands shaking now. Dumbledore took the unfinished teacup from my hands and set it aside, producing a white handkerchief from his robes and I took it, but didn't use it.
"Armando, I think it would be best if we let our guest rest, she has had quite the night and I think some sleep would benefit us all." Dumbledore suggested. Dippet smoothed his red velvet robes and seemed to contemplate the request, and I didn't know if he would refuse and press me for more or agree.
"Albus is right, we aren't going to get anywhere like this." Professor Silverthorn said this to the headmaster but was looking at me, almost looking through me.
"Let's leave the poor girl alone until morning, and we can better decide with bright eyes and clear minds, eh." He grinned and winked at me. The headmaster cleared his throat and lifted his chin in a huff, clearly not happy with this alternative, I held his probing stare with as much tenacity as I could summon, face still damp with tears-he nodded. I didn't understand why he was being so, so, difficult. I felt suddenly angry, and not just at them, but at myself. I scowled down at my hands as they curled into fists in my lap.
"Very well, she can stay in the infirmary tonight. Albus, a word." And he left the office, I released a breath I didn't know I had been holding, slumping down in the chair. Dumbledore patted me on the shoulder and bid me a goodnight before following Dippet out, I caught just bits of a hushed conversation, then they were gone with the sound of the classroom door closing. Professor Silverthorn didn't say anything for a moment, but then he too moved to the door.
"He means well, though it is hard to see at times how he could, but he's a good man."
My first impression of him made me not so sure about that, but I didn't know anything about him, the professor could be right. But, I didn't know anything about him either so then again he could be wrong. Another but-I don't know anything about myself, so my judgement of right and wrong was questionably up in the air. I felt like Alice in wonderland, having hit her head at least a dozen times on the way down the rabbit hole then once more upon arrival for good measure-like a spoken command, at that thought my head began to throb again, a dull pulsing that suddenly was a sharp pain striking at my temple.
"Ah!" I gasped out, the hand not holding Dumbledore's handkerchief clutched my head. Professor Silverthorn was there at my side instantly, I could feel him crouched by my chair, as my eyes screwed closed.
"What is it! What is the matter?" He grasped my shoulder and I gasped again and flinched away. He pulled back like he had be burned and my head throbbed again, just as sharp. I folded forward, hunched over my lap and tried to breathe through such an uncomfortable and foreign feeling. It was like being unaware of a healing wound and bending or moving in a way that rips it right open again. I balled Professor Silverthorn's cloak in my hands in favor of digging my nails into my palms. The pressure behind my eyes was almost too much, like something was desperate to burst out and escape, but then it stopped and began to melt away like ice in the sun. Whatever it was that was happening to me seemed to be leaving almost as quickly as it came, enough for me to open my eyes and sit up. The candle light of the office was harsher now than before, I squinted and let the curtain of my hair fall from my shoulder and shield me from it. Professor Silverthorn was bent on one knee next to me and was watching me with confused concern, and maybe a bit of calculation. A few tears had leaked out when I had doubled over and I wiped them away angrily.
"Are you alright?" The Professor asked softly.
"No." Was all I said, through clenched teeth and a sore throat, heart beating hard and fast, the discomfort still lingering in my skull. He nodded in acknowledgment and stood, taking a few steps back to give me space. What guilt I might have felt for pulling away like I did when he was only trying to help me was swallowed by the residue pain and the persistent emptiness surrounding me in that moment.
"You must be very tired is all." He said more to himself than me. I was glad once again he didn't press me for anything else, question what my episode just now had been all about. Because of course I had no idea.
"Come, I'll take you to infirmary."
He crossed to the door, but I didn't want to move in fear of upsetting whatever it was that held the seams of my mind and the health of my head at its mercy. I stood slowly, making sure my cloak stayed closed and shuffled out of the office. No more words were exchanged as I followed the Professor through the castle, I no longer had the energy or curiosity from before so I walked with my head down and my shoulders drawn in. The next room he took me too was much bigger, a wide space with many windows. I felt less claustrophobic here than the office and it helped my nerves. Rows of beds lined the walls, sectioned of and hidden from view by plain white curtains. Another door at the end of the room was closed and all the candles on the walls were unlit. I was guided to a bed and I immediately sat down on it without being told.
"Wait here another moment, I'll let Madam Folley know you're here and I can get you some clothes to change into."
He made for the other door at the end of the room, knocked softly then slipped inside. I didn't want to wait for him to return, I fell back on the firm mattress, the springs beneath me squeaked. I curled forward, knees drawn close to my chest and closed my eyes to-hopefully-be lulled into a deep sleep. With everything I had been through tonight, physically and mentally, I was certain as soon as my head touched the crisp white pillowcase I'd be out like a light. But after a few moments, I was still dreadfully awake, staring up at the shadowed intersecting arches in the ceiling. So I was still awake when Professor Silverthorn returned with a set of gray and beige striped pajamas.
I forced myself to sit up and accept them. There was a pause, a somewhat awkward one as he just stood there.
"Well, I hope you can get some rest, and try not to worry about tomorrow, it will be alright, you'll see." That word again. I nodded and he smiled. I set the pajamas aside and went to draw the curtain for some privacy, the professor taking this as his cue. The guilt from earlier made my stomach clench.
"Thank you. Thank you for helping me, and I'm sorry about...me." I said lamely as he turned to leave. He shook his head, his handkerchief coming out again to wipe his brow.
"Please, no need to thank me, I just hope I can help you figure this out, get you home." The word home was like a swift stab in the gut, and it hurt more than anything else had tonight.
"Goodnight." He gave a little bow that had me smiling just slightly then left me to change and sleep. I pulled the curtains closed and shrugged of the cloak, placing it on the bedside table. Underwear would've been nice but it would've been embarrassing to have the Professor bring me a bra and panties, so I was fine with this for now. The pajamas we soft, a little big, but so very welcomed. I slipped under the thin blanket and resumed my previous position.
I listened to the noises around me, thinking maybe they could help me sleep, but there weren't many. The silence was like another blanket, settling over me with a heavy chill. Now that I was alone for the night, I was ready to cry, but no tears came. Figures they'd be all gone now, after the Professors and Headmaster saw me cry like a pathetic wimp. The possibilities of tomorrow loomed over me- a black eyed vulture perched on the end on the bed. I tried to scare it away will all the happy thoughts I could muster, tried to think positively as I could in my weakened and exhausted state. I was clothed and warm in a bed with people willing, for the most part, to help me find my way instead of being naked and cold in the forest without any help at all. Progress. But one thing hadn't changed.
"Lost." I whispered into the quiet of the room.
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