Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Please read this note. It's the whole reason I decided to post the chapter in the first place, since I can't really get your attention in any other way.

Something that you really should know - Yes, I deleted the original. I really hated it. Sort of like an old shame. I'd like to think that I write better than that now, but, well. Another thing - chances are, that you won't see this story updating very often. At least, not until I've actually completed the story. So, at the best, two years later. At the likely, four years. At the even more likely, never. Because now, I don't really like the story, I don't like how it's written, and I can't even write a British accent. I mean, I could completely ignore the British accent, I guess, like I did in this chapter. But that's a little jarring when it comes to canon characters. So, people who actually liked the original...

Sorry.

In Which People Hear of A Trash Bin

The first thought her mind offered her was a simple, Where am I? A thought that was short, sweet, and to the point.

"Hey… Wake up."

She couldn't really feel anything, not really, anyway. Logic said she was probably lying around on the ground. Weirdly enough, it sort of felt like she was floating, which was a rather nice sensation. Comfortable too, the air not too warm, not too hot. She felt pretty nice. She couldn't remember being worried about anything, so she supposed she wasn't worrying about anything at all at the moment. Well, maybe. To be honest, she wasn't all that sure. Oh well. Even if there was a problem, it didn't matter right now.

"Please…Wake up! Please! I'm begging you!"

She didn't care. She didn't want to care. It was so peaceful here. She wasn't going to disturb the place with her worries. But she didn't have worries, so that was all right. She was feeling tired, anyway. Yes. Tired. That's all. Everything seemed… so much softer around the edges. Quieter. It was getting hard to think, too, but she wasn't worried about that. So much easier just to let go of her thoughts and simply not think. So much easier just to… sleep.

"Please!"

She was jolted swiftly awake, a sharp pain jutting through her head. Mentally grumbling, she cracked an eyelid open. There was a very small girl looming over her, a panicked expression on her face. The girl looked like she was about to go into hysterics any time soon. Hysterics, with the crying, the sobbing, the screaming, the nonsensical ranting. Maybe throwing around some hexes, throwing around punches and kicks. Interesting, at the very least. Hilarious at the very most. But she knew if she laughed, she might not be able to sit up. And she really needed to sit up. But then, there was the question that if she stayed down, would her head stop hurting? Maybe. And she closed her eyes again. She was curious, but –

"PLEASE! Wake up! Wake up! I don't want to be alone here!" Something wet hit her cheek. And then it suddenly stopped being funny, because she could hear and recognize those disconnected sounds. The girl was crying.

Crying wasn't funny. It was sad, and had to do with loneliness or grief or… well, sadness. Unless it was connected to hysterics. Because hysterics was a funny word. And people laughed when they were having hysterics, so it was funny. Ha. Ha. Ha. "You're loud. Why're y' so loud…" she said in a barely audible voice. "C'n't y'… be quie' 'r sumthin'?"

Really, why was it so loud? She'd never be able to get some sleep with that racket. Sighing, she opened her eyes wide at the exact moment a tear splashed on her face. "Huh – what?" she said blearily. Now that she was actually awake, she wanted to go back to sleep. But really, it couldn't be helped. She propped herself up on her hands, and was treated to a… sight.

The very small girl she had seen had turned her face away, trying to stop crying. Of course, it was really obvious. Really, really obvious. Obvious as in, getting hit with a mallet in your face, obvious. That had to be the saddest attempt at not crying the girl had ever seen. Just how fake it was made it absolutely hilarious.

She had the faintest idea that this shouldn't be funny at all, but she ignored it. "Hey, why are you…"

She didn't get half-way through her sentence before the girl blurted out, "I'm not crying!" She wasn't sure why the girl was trying to hide it, because it was really, really obvious. The girl's face was still red, and her nose was still leaking snot. And –hey, were those wood splinters? She didn't quite remember what a face was supposed to look like, but she was sure that it wasn't supposed to have splinters in it.

Vaguely, she remembered what she was supposed to do with splinters. She was supposed to use tweezers (or toenail clippers – it was one of the two, she just couldn't remember which), and pluck them out one by one. Or, she could do it the other way and take out some kind of magic twig, wave it around, and say a few funny-sounding words.

She knew had no tweezers. Or toenail clippers. But the magic twig was in her pocket (even though she didn't even know she had pockets). So. Magic twig it was. Problem that she wasn't exactly sure how to use it. Something about being fourth-year curriculum and her being only a second year. But she didn't know what even that was supposed to mean, anyway. So it probably wasn't that important.

She was almost sure she knew how to wave the twig around. After all, it was just waving a funny stick around. How hard could that really be? But the funny words she was supposed to say – those, she didn't know. What was it? Abracadabra? Open Sesame? One of the first spells she learned in first year?

…Wait, what was that supposed to mean?

She didn't know what a spell was. She didn't know what first year was. She did however, know how to swish and flick with a magic twig. And say some funny words. Now, whether they were the right ones…

"Wingardium Leviosa."

She watched as the girl flew, screaming, at least ten feet in the air.

Yep, those weren't the right ones. That was definitely not what she meant to do.

Ah well, it was funny.

"W-what the h-hell are you doing?" the girl shouted with a shaky voice. "Stop that!"

She shrugged. "Okay." She put her twig behind her back, and watched as the girl fell from ten feet in the air to the ground. But there was a sense of something being wrong. That feeling grew until there was a very large frown on the nameless girl's face. "Shouldn't you have broken something?" Because that girl… didn't seem to be injured at all. Not even a scratch. Hell, she probably should have died since she had been falling head-first.

But she didn't, because of some super-special reason that she didn't know about. It probably didn't matter. Right, that was it. It probably wasn't important at all.

"What was that for?"

"Huh?" the girl turned to face the other girl. "What was what?"

"The spell!"

"Oh, uh, I couldn't remember which spell was the one that got out wood splinters, and you kinda had wood splinters… all over…"

"Idiot!" Hey! She took offense to that! "At least you're a good-intentioned idiot." That wasn't much better! "No wonder why you're a Gryffindor…"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The girl looked her with a strange expression. "How do you not know?" The girl sighed. "Hufflepuffs are hardworking (that's me), Ravenclaws are smart, Slytherins are cunning, Gryffindors are impulsive. Or, if you look at it in another way, stupid." Then the girl looked at her with wide eyes. "I said that out loud. I said that out loud. I can't believe I said that out loud. I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have said that. I should not have told you that!"

"Told me what?" she said, scratching the back of her neck. The girl sighed in relief. She wasn't sure why. By the way, "What's a Gryffindor?"

The girl froze.

"What's a Gryffindor?"

The moment the girl asked that, Natalie knew something was wrong. A Gryffindor was practically known for being stupid, or (to put it better) too impulsive to think anything through. But this – this went beyond stupidity. This was Muggle. Someone so much like a Muggle that they didn't know what they were doing.

That couldn't be right. Barely an hour ago (or two or three – it was impossible to tell), this girl had been completely aware of everything. Hogwarts, fanfiction, and, from the look of the cream puff, definitely a way out of Hogwarts or into the Kitchens. Not knowing what Gryffindor is…

One more question to ask – just to be sure. "What's Hogwarts?"

Her audience stared at her in fascination. "Oh, that's easy. Hog warts! Or pig pimples. Y'know, I didn't know hogs even had warts!" exclaimed the girl excitedly. "Can you show me a picture?"

"A picture…" Natalie trailed off. "This isn't right," she muttered to herself. Whatever what she was before, that girl was now a Muggle. Undeniably Muggle. Yet she had still somehow remembered enough to cast a spell. How?

Maybe the girl got hit by an Obliviate – but no, Natalie stayed awake and conscious the entire time (although it wasn't the most pleasant experience, she had to admit), and she didn't see a single sign of life, let alone a spell. Could it amnesia? Biological, instantaneous, amnesia?

No. That suggestion sounded ridiculous even to her.

Maybe this place had something to do with it. She had a good, long while to look at her surroundings. Her rather boring surroundings. The entire place was bathed in a thick, white (slightly grayish) mist. She definitely wasn't brave enough to venture out to see if there was more to this place than mist.

So Natalie pondered. And pondered. And just for the sake of it, pondered some more.

While she was so studiously pondering (and pondering some more) over the background of the strange, amnesiac girl, nobody noticed (as, said before, Natalie was pondering, and the strange girl had gotten bored, now simply looking up at the sky, watching the white mists float around) the odd little light floating through the fog.

The light came closer, revealed as an old-fashioned lantern, the little candle flame flickering haphazardly. An even closer examination, if anyone had been paying attention, would reveal a little, delicate looking hand holding it. Closer again would show the scarred features of a young boy, eyes looking curiously at the scene before him.

It was a rather odd scene. One girl was sitting on the ground, with a serious look so serious it looked plain silly. The position she was sitting in was vaguely reminiscent of a little yellow bear (that may or may not be imaginary) sitting on a log in the Hundred Acre Woods. (He blinked. Where had that thought come from?) The other girl wasn't even trying to be serious and looking at the sky with a happy, oblivious expression. They were both splattered with ink.

He recognized the latter girl's expression. It had been firmly pasted on his own face the first time he saw the mists. The mists were rather hypnotic and interesting. Anyone stuck looking at them for a certain amount of time would literally be stuck into them. As in, have your soul removed and used to power more mist. Not exactly a cheerful ending. Unfortunately, it was rather difficult to tell when that certain amount of time had passed, since anything that could be used to tell time often got smashed. He and his sister both thought that this place was doing it entirely on purpose.

And really, what was the harm in looking in the mists? What nice shades of white… how… swirl-y…

…Did he just think that? He shuddered. He really needed to get some sleep.

But nobody could sleep in this world. So there wasn't a point.

Finally, he spoke up. "You shouldn't be staring at that. It's not good for you." There. All the warning he felt like giving at the time.

The girl that was looking at the sky jerked to attention. "Who're you?" Her eyes narrowed, as if he could seriously do anything dangerous. Huh, he wished.

Slowly, he stooped to the ground, put down his lantern carefully (wouldn't do for the light to go out), and held his hands up. Well, one hand really. The other one was a stump. The girl didn't seem to notice that, though. "I don't know," he said flatly. He dropped his hands. Bent to his knees. Picked up the lantern. Walked away. And that was that.

Was it really that simple?

No. Of course not.

"Wait!" The girl ran, an odd look on her face. "Where are we?"

"Ah. Newcomers." Strange. So stories were still being deleted? "Well."

The girl began showing signs of irritation. "Well what?" she demanded, hands on hips.

"You're in the Bin." Not feeling as hyper as he normally was, and therefore less likely to explain, he walked away, carrying his lantern.

Unfortunately, the girl decided to follow him, dragging the serious-but-not-really-serious girl with her. "What – hey, what are you-" sputtered the formerly-serious girl. "Let go!" Apparently they weren't on good speaking terms. He noted it all, and set off. He probably wouldn't remember it tomorrow, but it was nice while it lasted.

He got back to the little spot where he and his sister were staying. It was fairly nondescript. A few almost empty packs, only containing a knife and an empty cup. A fire that burned, but didn't really burn, because it never ran out of fuel. He thought it was because in this place, no real time passed. It seemed that he and his sister had been here for years. But no. It didn't look like he had aged a single day. The cut he had gotten the day he arrived hadn't even scabbed over yet.

Meaning it was still gushing blood for no absolute reason at all.

Pity.

Footsteps. Con could hear them. Probably her brother. Precise and calm.

She snorted. 'Precise and calm' varied. After they had gotten tossed in here, it looked like they had both gotten multiple personality disorder. That didn't correctly describe what exactly they had, but it was close enough for her not to really worry about the details.

To put it simply, their personalities changed continuously. After a few hours (or days, or minutes – extremely hard to tell time), they would become completely different people. They still retained the same memories – it simply tampered with personality. Today was one of her and her brother's 'sane' days. Con probably wouldn't be thinking this deeply about this the next minute. Day. Week. It was really hard to tell. Hell, now that she thought about it, she might not be thinking at all. She grimaced. Con very well remembered one of the 'mindless' days. It was… creepy, to say the least.

She turned as the footsteps stopped. "Hello," she greeted her brother. "Where've you been?"

Nick shrugged and set down one of the precious two lanterns they had brought with them. "Walking. Looking around. Found them." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

Footsteps. Fast and rushed. Ragged breathing.

Two girls came running out of the mist. Strange, but that was because they never got any visitors, so that was okay. Con assessed them with a critical eye. Obviously, rather out of shape. One shorter than the other by maybe a centimeter or so. Wearing robes as well. Robes with red and yellow crests. Con squinted. Somehow, those crests looked familiar. A lion and a badger. Interesting. She couldn't remember anything about it, but nobody remembered anything all, so that was okay.

"H-hey…" One girl panted. "What's the Bin?"

Con glanced at her brother, who was trying rather determinedly not to look at anyone. Was it also one of his 'antisocial' (emo/goth/whatever) days too? "Trash Bin," Con answered in place of her brother. "Where deleted things go to. Documents, pictures, music – all that." As if on cue, a little strain of a melody drifted past. Con remembered it well. It used to be a song, but as it spent more and more time here, the words had faded away, and now there were only a few notes left of it. A little sad, if she thought about it, but she never thought too deeply about it. It wouldn't be the best idea. Because then she would be depressed, and if she was depressed, she wouldn't be okay.

One of the girls (Con judged that it was the older one) now had a panicked expression on her face. "Ah, so you know what it is?" she asked.

The older one shrugged, her expression quickly going blank. "Yeah."

Then there was silence. Con was never comfortable with silence (or at least, the personality she had now wasn't), and broke it. "So, introductions?"

More silence. Con sighed. She didn't like having to break silences herself. It always became awkward. "I'm Con. He's Nick." Or at least that's who they thought they were. After a while, it was extremely hard to remember names. "You?"

The younger of the two stared. Finally, "I'm Natalie."

The older stayed silent, thinking. "Well?" Con probed.

Again, finally, "I don't know," she said cheerfully.

But Con accepted it all with a nod. "That's not uncommon. That's really what the Bin does to you. Takes memories." No, that wasn't all of it - Sneak up so slowly, slowly, and take some of your old childhood memories, which you rarely think about. Then some of your younger memories. Those achievements which you're so proud of. Then, your name. Con shook her head. And then, it goes even further. Takes away your ability to speak. Ability to see. Ability to hear. Everything. Then, when you're in a world without sound or sight, your ability to breathe. And, if that doesn't work - She'd seen it happen. Not pretty.

Natalie was silent, thinking it over. Nick was silent, because he wanted to be silent. The other girl was silent because she couldn't remember what there was to worry about. And Con was silent, because she didn't know what to say.

Why was everyone so quiet? Would she have to speak for everything and everyone? Con shot a glare at her brother. Talk, somebody! Somebody- just – speak. Talk. Yell. She didn't care. Just – somebody. She let out a slow breath. That somebody would have to be her. Again.

"Over there." Con pointed out the thinnest piece of mist, which barely allowed an observer a view of a dark, blurred shape. "It's Permanent Delete."

The two girls glanced at it. One looked away. The other stared fixedly at it, as if trying to make out what it actually was through the mist.

Con though, knew what it was. She knew all too well.

Her brother even more so.

But that was okay. Because even though her brother lost a hand to it, and they had both lost their minds, it was all okay. Because nothing mattered, really. They weren't getting out, weren't getting out anyway.

She reached into her pocket, fingering the two halves of her wand. She couldn't use magic anymore, not after they landed in the Bin, and cracked her wand. Oh no, she couldn't, but the ends of her splintered wand were jagged, sharp. It would be easy just to… slip.

Con shook her head lightly. Suicidal tendencies were most definitely a Bad Thing.

Slowly, the girl made a decision. "The Bin doesn't sound all that good," she said slowly.

"That's an understatement," Natalie said, staring at the fire.

The girl ignored Natalie. "Anyway out?" She asked Con and Nick.

Nick finally turned around. "Two choices," he muttered. "Either somebody decides to restore, and we hitch a ride, or we come through the Forest." Speaking louder, he continued. "And, so you will not ask me this later, (oh, yes, I know about people like you, and it's annoying) by restore, I mean 'undelete' (that's not a word, is it?), and by forest, I mean Permanent Delete. And before you say anything else, yes, if you go through that forest, you will get permanently deleted. But a lot of us end up there and there is more of a chance of being able to get out if we are right there. Get it?"

"…Bloody hell," Con mumbled after a shocked silence. "That's the most I've ever seen you talk at one time." But it was her brother, and if he was talking more than he should be, should she be worried?

"Shut it."

"Okay." No, Con decided. He was perfectly fine.

"So. There is a way out?" The girl enunciated her words carefully, so they could hear her perfectly fine and not suffer any misunderstandings.

Nick started coughing when Con started speaking. "Well, yeah. It'll be hard to find (cough*understatement*cough) but it's possible (cough*overstatement*cough)."

"All right." The girl smiled cheerily, and flicked her wand. "Lumos." The tip of the wand (again, ten inches, hickory, and dragon heartstring –there's no reason to let you forget) lit up with a dull light. She frowned. "Oh, it's not the best…" She shrugged. Eh, who cared? "See ya!" And, still rather cheerfully, she set off into the mist. Or rather, she would have, if she had not found a hand pulling on her shoulder.

Looking back, she saw Natalie leveling a blank stare at her. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm… leaving?" the girl said confusedly. "Ummm…" Everyone seemed to be looking at her in shock. "Well…" She started waving her wand about, looking like she was trying to explain something. Really, she was. It wasn't her fault they took 'I'm leaving' that seriously. And, seeing that they weren't saying anything at all, she once again set off.

Of course, she got stopped. Again.

"You're making me confused," the girl stated, brushing off the hand on her arm. "Do you want me to stay or go? I'd honestly rather go, but-"

"I'm going with you," said Natalie calmly. "I do not want to stay with them." She stressed the last word, as if in disgust. Or horror. Or maybe something else entirely. It was rather hard to tell.

Nick raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that we were being nice."

Con had a corresponding raised eyebrow. "Apparently not."

The girl blinked, and shrugged. "Eh, I don't care. Far be it from me to keep other people away from the light." And, saying so, she strode off, the little glowing light of her wand starting to fade from sight.

You know, the girl considered, nobody really needs names to get around.

It was simple. You see someone in the crowd that you know on sight, you don't tend to ask them their names. No, you held a proper conversation on them, and when that person finally goes away, smiling and waving, you realize you forgot to ask them their name, and shrug and say, next time. Only you never end up knowing their name, because for each 'next time' you always forgot.

Besides, 'you' worked perfectly fine. She'd forgotten Connie-something-or-the-other's names already. 'You' definitely worked all right.

Speaking of somebody and somebody else, how'd they end up the 'leaders' of this? Come on, they didn't even have the idea of looking for a way out. They weren't even considering looking until she just went up and said, 'here I am, and I'm leaving! Bye!' Huh, now that she thought about it, nobody had that idea. NOBODY.

Wow. Frankly, now that she heard everything about the Bin, she was rather surprised that she remembered enough to remember what was annoying anymore. 'Cause really? Whoa – now the clouds were way too pretty for her to be stressed out about that. Pretty, pretty, clouds.

She wasn't aware of what the clouds were doing. Any memory she had left, if she had thought about it, would seem to be covered by swirling mist. But the girl happily looked up and down. Down because, since the fog was so thick, it was a surprise every time her foot hit the ground. She half-expected for her to be able to step on top of the mist. It'd be nice. She'd like to try it, but she knew it couldn't work. That, and she wasn't sure that she and her magic twig (no, it was a wand) would be able to do that.

"Stop!" Ah. Connie. Or whatever her name was. She didn't care. Behind her, she felt someone nudge her. Natalie. It probably wasn't so much as a nudge as a 'whoops, I accidentally bumped into you. She couldn't help feeling smug over the fact that, even though she wasn't the 'leader' of this 'expedition', she was still at the front. Well, she was behind Connie, and really that wasn't saying much since there was only four people here anyway, but, well, there was still two people behind her, and normally that wouldn't be much of an accomplishment but again it was four people and –

She was rambling. That probably wasn't a good sign. Not that she really knew what a good sign was, but it seemed like it was the right thing to think, and – she was rambling again, wasn't she?

Shaking her head, she looked around Connie. There, sitting in their path was a girl. Granted, extremely hard to see, as the girl was half hidden in the mist, but a girl anyway. She shrugged. She didn't get what they were stopping for, but there had to be a reason. "Just go around-" Ah. Easier pathway. But really, there wasn't much of a point anyway. Ah well. She should be nice enough to oblige.

She was slightly freaked out at the blank stare the girl was given, but ignored it. Well, until she trod on the girl's leg. In her defense, it was very hard to see.

There was a very audible crack. She gave a wince. "Sorry," she said to the girl's blank, milky-white eyes.

"Don't be," Nick said, eying the staring girl. "She doesn't notice."

There were a lot of blankly-staring people. She tried talking to one of them (because she was really rather bored). It was a boy. A rather small one, but he was actually standing upright. She took that as a good sign (as Natalie had been very patiently explaining what was a good sign and wasn't) that he was ever so slightly more alive than the others. She was wrong. He simply fell over and closed his eyes, as if to go to sleep. She saw that he wasn't breathing. She wasn't sure why.

Oh well. Who cared? (If she had, she could have asked Con or Nick, and would be rewarded with a reply that said all of the rather dead-looking people were severely damaged files. But she didn't so she didn't.)

There were some scuffling sounds behind her, but she didn't care about those either. That is, until she realized dear Connie had stopped too. She scoffed. Some leader. She looked back, to see what all the trouble was.

Apparently, some boy had tackled Nick the moment he saw them all trudging through the mist. Closer examination revealed a skeletal, sunken-in face, a just-as-skeletal body, and – well, his eyes weren't exactly milky-white, but it was like someone had a put a very thin film of thick, white, gooey, somewhat luminous, cream over them. "You…you're trying to get out?" he whispered. His voice was rough and harsh, and he seemed to be grabbing Nick's shoulders so hard that it was enough to draw blood.

Nick gave a short, jerky nod. And suddenly, the boy began giggling. Giggling, and then it burst out into full-out laughter. His voice cracked, and his lips seemed to be leaking blood. Well, that wasn't precise. It wasn't his lips. It looked a lot like he was actually choking on blood. In fact, he was. That didn't seem to stop or slow the laughing, not one bit. Further behind him was a group of boys and girls, looking worried. Worn out, worried, and silently staring.

While the rest of the group of four was caught staring as well, she wondered if she could just edge away slowly. Or knock them out. Because she remembered that she could knock people out with her wand. Speaking of which, it had stopped glowing.

She glanced back at the others. A gaunt girl was now standing over the boy, patting his back, wincing as the blood shot out. "We're sorry," she said quietly. "But we would appreciate it if you would let us…" She seemed to be searching for the right word. "Accompany you." Then her voice took on a pleading tone. "Please. Our mental health isn't – isn't managing well," she finished lamely.

What an understatement.

"Er…" Natalie examined them, a dubious look in her eyes. "I, uh, really-"

"Of course," Con and Nick cut in smoothly, simultaneously, smirking. She never noticed how alike they really were. When they had first met, which had to be barely an hour ago, they had seemed like opposites. Or, well, not opposites. Just something and something not. It wasn't really that obvious, but it was understood that one was not like the other. Now, well…

She thought that they both wanted human shields.

It was almost... cute.

(Maybe it was 'cute'. Maybe. Now, if only she could remember the meaning of that word. Vaguely, she wondered if that was the right word to use, but disregarded it. It probably wasn't important anyway.)

She narrowed her eyes as the girl sighed in relief. "Thank you," the girl said, apparently grateful. The boy next to her wasn't laughing anymore, or at least not continuously; he was still chuckling every now and then, but it was much better than before. He didn't look as much as a maniac now, though the blood dripping from his mouth certainly cemented that image into her brain.

She tilted her head to the side. "What do you do?"

"Do?" The girl looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Although that girl had no idea what she meant, Con and Nick both had. "What do you have to offer?" asked Nick, lantern held high.

The girl's eyes were wide now, staring hungrily at the little golden flame. "O-of-fer?" she stammered, fixed upon that light.

"Skills," Con helpfully provided, taking the chance to lift her own lantern higher. "Abilities. Ex-per-tise."

And then the girl opened her mouth. "Well, all of us have some knowledge on how to duel." She spoke quickly, as if she hoped that she could cram all the information she could before somebody cut her off. "We've learned some things from the Auror curriculum. We've also go, some hexes, some curses-"

"Verlene!" The boy next to her (still dripping blood) snapped to attention. "What are you doing?" he hissed, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "You don't even know them, and-" He trailed off as he examined the rest of the group.

Verlene, not concerned at all with the boy, kept on talking. Others from that group of boys and girls stepped forward, all contributing their part to get their own share of the light.

What was the word that described that? The word that described the way they looked up at the lantern, that wide-eyed stare and mechanical voice. Because that was what they sounded like. Mechanical, reciting meaningless information as long as they could see the lantern. Even so, she listened anyway. She paid no attention to the names. Names weren't that important. Just a few syllables to tell what something is or is not. Names didn't tell people what you were, only what they were supposed to call you. 'What' was much better than the question 'who?'

And 'what' these people were? They were very interesting people indeed.

A smile idly played on her lips.

She didn't notice it at all.

But that was all right. Because if she didn't notice it, it was definitely not important.

Not important at all.

Natalie was scared. She didn't care what people thought now. She wasn't a Gryffindor. She didn't have to be brave all the time.

She was scared, scared, scared.

OCs – that was indeed what they were. Hogwarts students – that was indeed what they were. And that was the only things that Those Peopleshared with her. Those Peoplesaid they were from a fanfiction where something took over. Something dark, evil. What else could make Hogwarts the way Theyhad described it? What else would have made Themthe way Theysaid They were? They said that when It took over, It made Hogwarts into a Dark Wizard training area. Everything, anything, that needed to be done was taught there. It was all to pump out little soldiers – Them – to work for It so It could take everything. Didn't matter what age They were. They were all murderers. All soldiers that worked for It.

They had confessed what they done for It. They had confessed that They didn't care. They confessed that it was likely They would do it again if ordered by It.

Why wasn't anyone else scared by this?

Con and Nick – well, she had already concluded that they were unpleasant. Manipulative. Unpleasant, manipulative, nine-year-olds (because they were little kids, she didn't notice that at first but that was all right, it was only the panic don't worry you're not going insane like them)That, and she couldn't shake off the feeling that they wanted to use them all as human shields for whatever worse might come. The other girl, she felt some empathy (or was that sympathy) for her. Or at least, she didn't feel like screaming out to the world that the nameless one was crazy. At least that girl had an excuse, since she didn't remember anything. And if she was hearing correctly, that was a normal excuse in this place.

Paranoid as Natalie was (it wasn't paranoid, she was just concerned, that's all, and it was only paranoid if she was wrong and she was RIGHT right right ), she had decided to ask Nick and Con. Their experience not much of one should give her some passable answers. (Even if they were nine-year-olds).

Yeah…no.

Her first question about if They might kill everyone (after all, the other girl did say Their mental state wasn't very stable, and They were already murderers) was answered with "Honestly, I don't give a shit."

That was when she started getting worried. (Honestly, she should have considered that her four-person group was insane too.)

Another was "Why were they so desperate?" Really, all of Them were manipulated with just a little candle. A candle. And, if she had lit her own wand, probably by that too. Why was that? The answer, "This is what happens when they forget the happy memories, and they know they're forgetting." Natalie didn't understand any of that, and had said, "What?"

And Con smiled, patted her on the back, and enunciated slowly, as if speaking something very obvious, "They forgot what light looked like."

Natalie shuddered. This was sadistic, sadistic place. Bad memories were only tolerable when there were good memories to balance it out. When there weren't any good memories to be found, it all fell into chaos. Or, from the looks of the group, insanity. Absolute insanity. In fact, everyone was so insane, that allNickofConthemNoName might be murderers. Well, with the exception of Natalie. She was, in fact, a perfectly normal, non-homicidal, first year.

The problem was that, of course, nobody else was.

Scared, scared, scared, scared…

She was no Gryffindor.

But I'm in this anyway…

It didn't matter. Tightly, she clenched her wand and her electric-blue quill (how was she still holding it?) and continued walking.

Scared scared scared scared scared…