7
It was the end of September when I was once again reminded of the horrors outside the walls of Hogwarts. The Webb girl- you know, the one whose hair had been victim to my poor spell casting skills- had disappeared during a trip to Hogsmeade along with her muggle-born boyfriend. We didn't need proof to know it was a Death Eater's doing.
DADA was a quiet class that day, everyone stealing glances at her vacant seat. The air was thick with fear, confusion, and anger. Having given us notes to take down and saying as little as possible, it was clear even our usually sharp-tongued professor was affected by her loss. Sirius looked positively fuming, and I knew this only fueled his determination to join the Order on graduation.
I had only spoken to her that one time, but the shock of someone who was once there and now gone was almost unbearable. I made a dash for the door as we were dismissed, not slowing my quickened pace until reaching the Come-and-Go Room. Slamming into the nearest wall, I dismiss my rapid heartbeat and heavy breathing on the fact I don't work out much.
"Shit," I'm supposed to be at lunch, but I can't find the will to move my legs. I feel paralyzed. That girl was my age. I spoke to her. She was a real, tangible person. Webb was not just some book character captured in a fictional story! And now she's dead. Fucking dead. Probably brutally murdered, too. Oh God, please let it have been quick for her!
I didn't notice his presence in the room until scarred hands were prying my white knuckles out of their vice on my forearms, "Denny."
My eyes refocus on reality and I manage to gasp, "Remus?" He pulls me from the floor where I'd apparently sunken in my panic. Remus' hands are the only steady things as a sudden lightheadedness washes over me upon my ascent to a standing position. Feeling as if I'm on fire, I realize the pain in my chest is not from lack of exercise.
"Take deep breaths," the urgent voice pierces through the haze, and I feel myself being taken under the arm by another set of shoulders.
"Denny-" the voices come in parts, as all I can concentrate on is how sudden it is to disappear.
"Freaking out-"
"Denny-"
"Madam Pomfrey-"
"Help-"
"Denny-!"
What-?
I'm encased by darkness. I can see nothing. I hear nothing. I open my mouth to speak, but no sound comes from my lungs.
There's warmth, though. The strange feeling grows, but it is not a safe warmth. This is the warmth that threatens to burn and maim. It comes from all angles, getting hotter. An almost unbearable amount of heat radiating from wherever the hell this is.
I open my mouth to scream as a searing pain envelops me. There is no sound, yet I am screaming.
I can almost hear something through the horrible silence. A low murmur, maybe. A small voice. Almost like one would hear when a voice is obstructed by a wall.
Wincing through my pain, I strain to hear. I cry for help in vain. And finally, at last, I hear something audible.
I realize the person is repeating itself. Over and over again it's words come to ring in my ears. All at once loud and silent.
"never meant to be there"
"you were never meant to be there"
"You were never meant to be there."
"YOU WERE NEVER MEANT TO BE THERE."
I scream again, from the pain in my head and the unseen fire encasing me. Then, I realize, the person isn't speaking at all.
His voice is all in my head.
It's fucking hot.
I wrench the sheets off of my body, slick with sweat. Shielding my eyes from the blaring light intruding through my eyelids, I don't attempt sitting up. I feel as if I'll pass out on the spot if I try.
"Don't sit up too quickly," a masculine voice sounds from my right, "Madam Pomfrey said the potions could make you sick."
The man gets a groan of agitation as his answer, and I can't bring myself to care about being polite at the moment. All I'm worried about is correcting my pupils to take in the light.
I squint through my eyelashes at the figure sitting beside the apparent bed, "Well I'll be damned."
"Language," the black haired boy stiffens even more than he already was.
"Severus?" I can't believe my eyes. Maybe I'm hallucinating. It would be plausible after what I've been through.
"Obviously."
"What the hell are you doing at my sickbed?"
"I came to make sure you weren't dead. We have a potions' project due next Monday. I hope this isn't some shenanigan cooked up by your imbecile friends to lower my grade, because I assure you I will be perfectly fine without your input on the project-"
Of fucking course.
"Shut your trap and help me up," Snape's large nose wrinkles up in distaste at being interrupted, but he accepts my outstretched hand and slowly pulls me to a sitting position.
"What happened?"
"Panic attack. You fainted."
"And I always prided myself on not being a damsel in distress," I huff out a chuckle, and immediately regret it as a sharp pain runs through my head.
you were never meant to be there
Fear makes my blood run cold at that voice, reminding me of the dream I had. I push myself off the bed and, with the help of Severus, make my way towards the exit of the infirmary.
I'm assured by Madam Pomfrey that I only need to rest off the potion's effects and I can return to school tomorrow. As she speaks, I can't get my mind off that dream and when I fall asleep in the comfort of my own room, I'm worried I may have it again.
-A/N-
Hey guys! Sorry it took so long for this update. I just had high school graduation to worry about, applying to colleges, etc. Seriously, the last few months have been CRAZY for me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Some creepy stuff is going to start happening to Denny, and I hope you like what I have planned for this story!
peenislover- Haha! Thanks! I hope other people will find this story & like it! ^.^
Paxloria- Thank you! I hope you continue to like it.
Just Me- Haha! The update is here! I hope it was worth the wait. ;)
-M
