-The Graveyard, Chapter Ten-
Adapted from Chapters 23, 24, 25 of the Order of the Phoenix
HARRY POV
The days blurred by. Ron, Hermione and Ginny cornered me after a few days of moping and made me spill, so now all of them were worried. The dream played in my head constantly, making me brood all the time. My only relief was that I hadn't been possessed by Voldemort- and with Cecily's help, I probably wouldn't be. Christmas was fantastic, although I couldn't stop thinking about her. She had never had a Christmas before. For awhile, I caught myself wondering what it'd be like, wondering what Cecily was like. I didn't know her, and she didn't know me. So, against everyone's better judgment, I wore her locket now, under my robes. I couldn't help it, I felt like I had made an empty promise to her. And then I was returning to Hogwarts, with Occlumency lessons to look forward to. Occlumency was terrible. Not only because of Snape, but the memories were the worst, a torture I couldn't even take in private. Upon seeing Cecily three times in a row, Snape abandoned the lesson all together, smirking.
Unfortunately, that was only the first lesson. But I had realized that whatever Voldemort wanted, it was in the Department of Mysteries. Upon telling this to Ron and Hermione, while Fred and George advertised their Headless Hats, they were just as confused as I was. I had been thinking for awhile that the weapon was me, but possessed. Obviously, there was something else he wanted…
Feeling ill, I went to go to bed, when pain so severe, it felt like someone was cutting open my head hit me like a wrecking ball. I didn't know if I was standing up, sitting down, I didn't even know my own name… Maniacal laughter was ringing in my ears…He was happier than he had been in a long time… Jubilant, ecstatic, triumphant… A wonderful, wonderful thing had happened…
Eventually, Ron had to hit me round the face to rouse me. I had no idea what had happened, but whatever did happen…Voldemort was happy. The next day we found out, the ten Death Eaters from Azkaban had escaped, and the dementors had left. I stared at the newspaper, looking at the hooded eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange. At Augustus Rookwood. At Antonin Dolohov. Unconsciously, I made sure Cecily's locket was still there. With the Death Eaters free from Azkaban, it would be much harder to get her back. Much, much harder. It would probably be harder on her too, with more evil surrounding her. The worry and the anger, made me snappy all the time, and Occlumency wasn't helping my mood. It seemed that with every lesson I was getting worse. Before I had started studying Occlumency, my scar prickled occasionally, usually during the night, or else following one of those strange flashes of Voldemort's thoughts or moods that I experienced every now and then. I no longer dreamed of Cecily.
But now, my scar hardly ever stopped hurting. It made it hard not to dream of the windowless corridor to the Department of Mysteries every night (which I did dream of every night) and it was difficult to concentrate on the smallest of things. The only good thing that I enjoyed was the D.A. meetings. Everyone was improving faster than I ever could have imagined. Neville, after hearing about the Lestrange's escape from Azkaban, was almost doing as well as Hermione. And as January passed into February, I was painfully aware that my date with Cho was rapidly approaching…
CECILY POV
I gasped for air, flat on my stomach. I hadn't moved since Avery dumped me back into the sarcophagus. My back was on fire, all of the old wounds reopened by this latest beating. I was terrified. All of the Death Eaters were free, which made my life hell. The night Voldemort introduced them to me was hell. Of course, Voldemort was happier now-days, and I got a bit more food, but I could hardly ever keep it down. He had been starving me for so long, eating disgusted me. My stomach rolled at the sight of it, (not only because the food itself was disgusting) and refused to digest it. Recently, I had started ripping away at my robes. They had become so big; I was risking strangulation if I slept in them.
I had started making bandages, but I had to take them off before Bellatrix or Avery where ordered to beat me. He still was trying to make me slip up, to break down. But I was still holding out. Harry would never dream of me until I wanted him to. I had to keep him safe, it was the only thing I could do for him. My back stinging, I carefully pushed myself over to the corner full of my makeshift bandages, and tied long strips around my back, trying to stop the bleeding. They had hit bone today, and it felt like it was on fire. I was used to pain, to being uncomfortable, but this was a whole new level of agony. Before I knew that Harry even existed, I was like a robot, with a hard, stalwart exterior that never showed emotion, and it kept me safe. But now, it was like I had completely been broken. I caught myself crying at times when I should have been staying tough, staying vigilant. I felt weak and downtrodden, like Voldemort had won.
I didn't want to see a mirror. I knew I looked like a skeleton, with my bones jutting out. The ring had been forced to size itself down to keep from falling off my bony finger. Woozy from the blood loss, I tried to relax, while staying on my guard. Voldemort couldn't break me down, not when so much was at stake.
And recently, some pale faced little snot had been here, and he was more than happy to hurt me. He had laughed every time he cracked the whip. Later, I learned I was in the basement of his house. He attends Hogwarts. As the tunnel vision closed in once more, I could only hope Harry was safe from that rat, the rat named Draco…