Presenting…the second half of this two-shot! This story is mainly contemplation on how different people deal with pain…not really sure how it came across…but enjoy!
As always, I do not have any claim to Harry Potter
There was a letter.
That was all Violet knew as she raced through the corridors.
Violet had to read that letter. It was vital. A matter of life or death, and somehow, somehow Violet knew that it wasn't just a saying this time.
So Violet kept running. She paused for a second to catch her breath before the urgency she felt in her gut propelled her forward.
But somehow she wasn't going anywhere, the empty white walls stayed empty. And when she skidded around corridors she ended up in the same place.
Frustrated, Violet ran faster. She had to move! She had to go somewhere.
She had to see Mary!
Mary.
Violet woke up in her bed. The sheets were tangled, and the sense of urgency left over from her dream, hadn't quite left her.
"Violet?" her mother's sweet tones beckoned her to the door.
Still dazed she looked up, grasping at what little comfort her mother's face still gave her.
"Violet, Mary's downstairs waiting for you."
All other thoughts fled from her mind as she raced downstairs desperate to quell her fears that Mary wasn't completely all right. That her nightmare had just been a dream.
"Mary?" Violet saw her beloved friend standing in the fireplace, her face turned away. She must have just flooed here, Violet breathed out a sigh, of course Mary was all right, how could Violet have ever doubted that. Hadn't it often been joked that there was no force strong enough on this Earth that could finish Mary's indomitable presence?
" Why did you come over so early, love? Have you even had breakfast yet?" Violet laughed, Mary had always been eager to spend time with Lily and Violet. Hadn't they been her closest friends, her sisters?
"Mary?" Some unknown beast stirred uneasily in Violet's stomach, why wasn't Mary answering her, acknowledging her?
"Mary, it isn't funny anymore." Violet snapped, unhappy with herself for becoming so irritable, but she had already been worried, and, unknowingly or not, Mary had no right to prolong her uneasiness.
"Mary MacDonald!" Violet reached over and pulled at her friend.
The limp corpse slumped to the ground. Now that Mary's face was turned to the light, Violet could see that there was no trace of her friend in it.
That Mary's eyes were cold
Unseeing,
Lifeless…
With the body of her dead friend at her feet, Violet screamed.
Violet bolted awake in a cold sweat.
The hangings that surrounded her bed at Hogwarts closed tight, and she could hear the peaceful breathing of the other girls in the dormitory.
Her mind turned back to her dream. It had been two weeks since the day Violet had found Mary's corpse in her living room the day before they were to board the train to their seventh year at Hogwarts.
Two weeks and Violet still woke every night with the same recurring nightmare, for no imagined fantasy could top the horror and fear Violet had felt when Mary's corpse landed at her feet.
Violet tasted salt and she reached up to find tears gently rolling down her cheeks.
Mary.
Her heart called out to her lost friend. How she hated Voldemort for tearing from her sister.
Violet had always been the shy one, no doubt a nobody; one of the ones looked over in Hogwart's halls if it hadn't been for Mary and Lily.
But Lily was gone now to, or, at least, as gone as someone still alive can be.
Lily was just barely alive, breathing and eating, in all other aspects she was as lifeless as Mary's corpse.
Violet shuddered and looked out to the mist laden grounds. How could a human being feel so much sadness?
How was it that, even after two weeks, Violet still expected to see Mary's smiling face in the morning? To hear her booming, contagious laugh. To have someone there to make sure Violet didn't blend into the Walls?
This was supposed to be the greatest year of their lives. Mary had prepared, and planned for this year, always promising that it would be the year that Violet would finally come out of her shell.
But now it seemed, without Mary, Violet would forever stay in the shadows.
No, Violet said to herself, Mary would laugh at me if she saw me now.
What would Mary say? She would give me a shake and tell me to stop blubbering, tell me to enjoy this year.
Violet could almost hear Mary's voice, Why are you wasting time, it cried, there are tasks to be fulfilled, Lists to be completed.
Lists.
Violet froze, suddenly knowing exactly how to honor her friend.
She rolled to her knees, looking out of the crack in her curtains. Seeing no one, she grabbed her wand and slipped silently out. She padded towards the last bed in her row. The one that lay hollow, and cold. Mary's bed.
As she skirted around Lily's bed, Violet froze. She looked down upon Lily's pale face, empty of that horrible pain only in sleep. In her sleep, Lily looked like the old lively Lily Violet had once known, and she yearned to lean upon once more. Violet shook her head, knowing that finally she had to stand for herself, Lily was in no shape to help her. Lily stirred, and Violet paused for a dreadful moment waiting for those green eyes to open and focus upon her. To fill with grief as she realized, reading Violet like an open book, exactly what she had been about to do.
One beat.
Two.
Finally, Lily merely rolled over and resumed her sleep, and Violet let out a breath she hadn't been aware she had been holding.
She stepped over to the empty bed, going down on her knees beside the far bedpost. Running the tips of her fingers down the hard wood, they came to a bump, a knot in the wood. She pointed her wand, gave a last furtive glance at the sleeping girls, and tapped her wand twice on the wood. The deep-toned thuds belied the hollow center and, sure enough, the panel of wood slid open and three folded pieces of parchment fell out.
Violet snatched them up to her and, replacing the ones with hers and Lily's writing on the front, slid the panel back into place. She pressed her palm to the cool wood for a moment and rose to her feet. She looked down to the small parchment in her hand. Written in the thick dark strokes of Mary's hand, it read: " I, Mary MacDonald, do, in full knowledge of my actions, solemnly swear to accomplish these tasks set in my pen before graduating Hogwarts."
Violet's throat closed at the sight of Mary's familiar script. Closing her hand into a fist, she made her way back to her bed. With that, Mary's metaphorical torch had been handed off, and Violet accepted the future.
A future that now held the uncompleted tasks set forth by Mary MacDonald.
Violet awoke again in the morning, feeling a familiar dull ache. What had before afflicted her like a sharp stab, now subsided into a dull pounding, throbbing. Perhaps not sharp and fleeting but an imbedded misery deep enough that it could not be removed and forgotten.
She slowly dressed, reveling in the privacy and silence, for once not surrounded by her peers, Violet would not have to put on her mask and try to stay out of notice. As she came out of the bathroom she noticed that Lily's bed was now empty, and the girl herself sat at her dresser. Alerted by Violet's footsteps Lily loooked up.
Violet involuntarily took a step back. Lily eyes were two wide chasms, the was no spark nor any hint of recognition. For one terrible prolonged moment the two old friends looked at each other and Violet knew the sense of loss in Lily's eyes was reflected in her own. As if were too much to bear, Lily finally turned away without a sound. Violet stood, lightly balancing on the balls of her feet, staring at the back of Lily's head, and once again suppressed the urge to weep. In her heart, Violet knew that Mary would be disgusted in the way her two friends were acting, but somehow Violet couldn't bring herself to take that first step. Lily was grieving and Violet had no right to intrude upon her. Instead, she turned slowly and padded down to the common room.
Fin
Thank You for reading! Now pretty pretty pretty please review, yes? Also, Ch. 4 of Flat-Hunting will be up I, dare I say, the next week or two?
