Anya's POV
I was powerful.
I could do anything I wanted.
And I wanted Bartemius Crouch Jr. dead by my own hand.
Twirling my wand between my fingers, I paced before the foolish man. He was begging for forgiveness. Forgiveness I wouldn't cede him at all. For me, he could bawl his eyes for hours and hours, yelling desperately for mercy, and I wouldn't have cared.
He deserved to die. He destroyed my best friend's life by torturing his parents into madness. He was one of the guiltier to weaken my father until he had no more power, leaving him defenseless against Bellatrix.
It was Bartemius Crouch Jr.'s fault that Neville's and my life was miserable.
I wanted revenge.
"Crucio," the word was too soft for someone normal to hear, but it had an incredible power behind it.
A twisted smile began to creep up to my face once the screams started. It was like a sweet lullaby for my ears. I closed my eyes in bliss when his screams started to became words. I let the fury course through my veins like if it was my lifesaver.
Opening my eyes, I frowned in confusion when I did not saw Crouch.
Instead, kneeling in front of me was Harry Potter.
He was mouthing incoherently, his usually emerald eyes that had carefully filled me with warm held hate. Fear…
"No… please…"
Tilting my head, I knelt in front of him.
"What are you doing here?" I asked remorsefully. "You aren't supposed to see this…"
I glanced to his body, all covered in crimson blood. His torn robes were letting me see too much of his uncovered skin, but given the circumstances, I couldn't blush at all.
"In fact, I don't believe you should be on this state…"
I raised my hand to touch him. One of my fingers graced his flushed cheek and he flinched away. Frowning, I let my hand fall.
"Harry," I cradled his face with my hands, but the green eyed boy didn't look at me. "Who did this?"
Turning slowly, his sad eyes met mine. He was broken, nothing could hold him anymore.
With apparent agony, Harry lifted his hands until they touched my cheeks. He caressed them both softly with his thumbs, and I could feel the warm liquid of blood smearing on them. Placing a chaste kiss on my forehead, he murmured:
"It was you."
Then everything turned black. I couldn't feel Harry's warm presence with me. Nor I could hear Crouch's yells of suffer. I pouted at the darkness.
Like a switch, a white light engulfed me. Each time I walked, the light followed. I continued walking, until I found a window.
Looking at its reflection, a bright smile appeared once I saw who it was in there.
"Dad!"
The young man on the other side of the window mirrored my smile. It seemed he was happy to see me too.
But what was he doing here? It was my dream after all, and he hadn't appeared on a while, even if I only had seen him on my nightmares. Perhaps he could help me to understand what was happening.
I opened my mouth to ask him, but I think he was going to ask me too, so I just gave him a small smile and waved a hand to him to continue. He must have thought the same, as he waved his hand at the same time. We both broke into awkward chuckles. People had often said I tended to act like my father when in his youth, and I was seeing the similarities now.
I continued to smile, all thought of Harry disappearing quickly. Dad did the same, and then I started to notice.
His eyes weren't hazel like mine were.
The warm feeling he had radiated on the photos did not seem to be there.
There was something wrong on this.
I frowned, and dad once again did the same. I was becoming irritated at him. I knew he would try to joke a little, but it was getting too ridiculous!
"Hey!" I yelled… and dad did the same.
I blinked. The annoyance started to wore off. I could not decide what look to adopt, so I did what I always do when I felt too confused.
I cleared my face of any emotion. Dad did the same, his face devoid of everything.
The strange dream then became a nightmare.
I understood everything.
And most importantly of all, that man on the window wasn't my father at all.
Horrified at this knowledge, I squeaked loudly and brought my hands to my head, my fingers passing through the now wild curls. I grabbed them to a point I was sure I was ripping my hair out.
Worst of all, the man did the same. His icy blue eyes were wide and the only expression he showed was fear. Something I didn't expect to see at all.
Gulping, I lowered my arms slowly. Staring at myself defeated, I reached with one hand to my eyes. Touching the soft skin of the dark circles on my eyes, I saw him do the same.
This had to be a joke. A big joke the destiny had decided to play me. Closing my eyes, I came to a final decision.
I took one step nearer, my arm raised to it. He was nervously watching every move I made.
With one arm raised, my fingers touched the cool surface of the crystal. His hand did the same. And we both stood on silence, gazing at each other with cold looks.
I wasn't looking through a window. I was staring at a mirror.
I woke up abruptly from the bed. I was gasping: sweat was running down my face, and I could feel the sticky feeling behind my back.
I didn't recognize my bed. Where I was?!
Feeling panicked, I looked wildly around me. The bedspread was tangled on my legs. Above the table at the end of the bed were my wand and some old clothes with patches of fabrics I had sewn this year on the Burrow.
I jumped when I felt a pair of arms surround my shoulders. In reflex, I grabbed them roughly and was going to bite them when I heard a soothing voice talking to me.
"Shh… it's okay, Annie. You're on the hospital wing. Everything is okay… you're okay…"
I slowly relaxed as Harry continued to talk softly near my ear, occasionally rubbing my shoulders for the effect.
Breathing heavily, we both lay there on my bed.
After some minutes, I whispered ruefully, "Shouldn't I be supposed to be comforting you instead of the other way?"
I felt him tense beside me.
"I think… I think is better if you don't do that…" he answered after the silence. I nodded slowly.
"The others…?"
"They were kicked out by Madam Pomfrey."
"I bet Mrs. Weasley didn't take that well," I mused. Harry cracked a smile at how true that sounded.
Disappointed flashed through me when he started to let go of his hold on my body. I wanted him near me, not away. Harry was the only thing that anchored me on this real world.
Thankfully, he didn't move too away from my place. He took a seat beside me on the dirty bed and just stared at his lap.
I noticed he had changed to his school robes, and that the Tournament's uniform had been tossed carelessly on his bedspread. The bag with his winnings of the Tournament was on the same state.
Harry opened his mouth and closed it. Once, twice, until he sighed defeated. Amused, I raised an eyebrow to him.
"You don't have to say anything, you know," I said gently. "I was there, too."
Swallowing, Harry asked, "How?" his voice was hoarse.
Sniffling a little, I grabbed his hand on mine.
"I am not so sure. Not anymore."
We sat on silence. The clouds flew by outside, and the day seemed to darken more with the mood. The only sound I could hear on the magical infirmary was my own harsh breathing, which I hadn't realized was becoming more worked.
"I'm going to see the Diggorys," said Harry with a grim expression.
"Oh," I almost slapped myself for how lame that sounded. Relief flooded through me to find out I was still the same person as before.
Except for the eyes… I bitterly remembered that.
"I have to apologize to them."
"There's nothing you could have done, Harry," I said softly, letting my head fall on his shoulder.
There was more silence. And I think these types of silences were going to be a very common thing from now on.
"Do you think –?"
"No. We couldn't have changed anything," I interrupted. "It was already set on stone."
He narrowed his eyes.
"You mean to say it was already drawn," Harry accused. I sighed.
"Yes."
He sat a few minutes there until he stood up. Grabbing the bag of gold, he walked toward the oak doors.
"Harry,"
He stopped on the door. Half inside, half outside.
"I am glad you are alive."
He nodded, and when he closed the door, I could swear I saw him smile.
James's POV
After an earful from Uncle, another of those annoying lectures from Erin, and a hallway accident with Potter, I arrived to the Hospital Wing to find myself in one of the most compromising situations of my life.
Bunny was changing her clothes.
And she was wearing nothing in the upper part.
It seemed like an eternity until –
"GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!"
Everything under her reach went flying. Sheets, Potter's clothes, empty bottles, bottles with potions.
Talking about potions –
BAM!
NOTE TO ALL THE HOGWARTS POPULATION: NEVER EVER, MIX THE RED LIQUID BETWEEN THE PINK ONE. That goes for the ladies!
Anya's POV
"Mr. Leopold, you should have knocked!" chastised Madam Pomfrey.
"OUCH – How was I supposed to know she was changing?"
Satisfied, I watched how James' new pumpkin head scowled over at me. Well, he did deserve it for interrupting my privacy. And besides, I still am horrified about how much did he see.
"And shouldn't she have put the screens –"
"I did put them!" I yelled. "But you came and only just pulled them aside!"
"Well, I am sorry! Happy?!"
"NO!"
We both continued to argue. Our yells ricocheted from the walls, and echoed up to the ceiling. We had a lot of spectators, and yet, we didn't stop. The only pause we had was when we both said goodbye to Mrs. Weasley, and once she left, the shouts started again.
A while later, Harry returned with Hermione and Ron. The three of them stayed and watched us amusedly as we threw comebacks at each other. Ron and Hermione watched as if this was a tennis game. Even Harry had lost the sour mood and enjoyed the show.
More lately, Neville came with the bat. But he didn't do anything. And so, he joined the trio and just watched too.
For the rest of the evening, I thanked god for giving me a piece of my normal life.
Because I knew nothing would be the same at all.
