Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

Written for Assignment 4; Ancient Studies, Task 4. Write about a cult.

Word Count - 1566

(un)safe haven

She run as fast as she could until she couldn't run any more. Tears streaked her face, and bruises were already blossoming on her pale skin.

The war had been going on for months, and yet, she was still surprised that it had come to her village.

It had been something that was happening to the world; not something that was happening to her.

Her family were gone, her home demolished. Hannah had no idea what she was going to do now.

With nowhere to go, and nobody to turn to, Hannah was on her own.

...

"What are you doing here?" Terry hissed, tugging her across the room to a quiet corner. She'd been so happy to see him when she'd arrived, a familiar face from school exactly what she needed.

He wasn't happy to see her though.

Hannah whimpered when his thumb pressed into a bruise at her wrist and moved with him willingly, not wanting to exacerbate her injuries.

"I was looking for somewhere to hide," she whispered, when he pushed her gently against the wall, blocking her view of the room. "A woman found me hiding in the forest a few miles away, she brought me here. I just wanted somewhere to be safe."

Terry closed his eyes. "You didn't find it," he said. "We need to get you out of here."

Confused, Hannah shook her head. "I have nowhere else to go, Terry! Everyone in my family is dead! The only reason I'm still alive is because I run like a coward instead of fighting for them."

"Hannah," Terry sighed. "It's not… it's not safe for you here."

"Why not?"

"Look around you," he said, shifting so she could see over his shoulder. "Look at the people, and tell me what you don't see."

Hannah blinked but did as she was instructed. It took her a moment, but understanding dawned slowly and she frowned, taking in the people again.

"Everyone has dark hair," she murmured. "Except for me."

"Right," Terry agreed. "This is Lockhart's place. You remember him from school, right?"

She nodded. "Didn't he have an accident with his memory though?"

Terry snorted. "He escaped the hospital in the confusion of the attack there. He's built this place from nothing, gathering people to him slowly. Many of the people here, they worship him. It's… nauseating."

"Why are you here then?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"My family are dead too, Han," he admitted. "I found this place by accident and just… it's a place to exist, right?"

"So… what's the deal with the blonde hair, then?" she asked.

"I don't fully understand it," he admitted. "But whenever someone with blonde hair arrives, they're treated like royalty for a few days and then… they disappear. I don't… I think… this is going to sound ridiculous but… I think he sacrifices them to some sort of ritual."

Hannah blinked. "You're right, that does sound ridiculous. You're making it sound like some sort of cult!"

Terry nodded slowly. "That's… that's exactly what it is."

"That's crazy talk, Terry," Hannah scoffed. "It's probably just a coincidence or something. No ritual that I know of requires a blonde!"

She shook her head and stepped passed him. "I appreciate that you're trying to help me, Terry, but… I think the war's made you paranoid."

…

Hannah was given a pillow made of silk. She was given warm blankets, and fed hot soup and allowed a long hot shower. It was heaven, and as she settled down on the softest mattress imaginable, she allowed herself to relax for the first time in what felt like forever.

Terry's warning floated through her mind but she forcefully pushed it away. He was paranoid. That was the only explanation for his insanity.

Closing her eyes, Hannah let herself drift off to sleep.

…

From outside, the building looked abandoned and worn, but inside, many of the rooms were opulent and beautiful. Hannah noticed there was an abundance of the colour gold, and many shades of blue.

The people were… odd, though. Hannah recognised some of them from the years above her at Hogwarts. Many of them avoided her, though she often felt eyes on her back wherever she was in the building.

The feeling of being watched put her on edge, but she tried her hardest to dismiss the feeling.

Terry hadn't attempted to speak with her again, but she often saw him loitering in the corner of a room, eyes sad and drawn, brow constantly pinched with concern. She wished she knew the words to tell him that she was fine, that she'd be fine.

That his concern was unwarranted because nobody was going to sacrifice her because of her hair colour.

She didn't have the words though, and so she held her silence. She spent her days exploring the building. She tried to start conversations a few times, only for the others to walk away from her, or even on a few occasions, leave the room as soon as she entered.

It made her uncomfortable, and after so long spent afraid and running, being surrounded by people who didn't want to speak with her only made her feel even more lonely than she had when she'd been alone.

It was that feeling that made her wonder if Terry had been right that she should leave. Not because she bought into the idea that they planned to sacrifice her, but because being lonely on her own was much easier than being lonely while surrounded by people.

…

"Hello, my dear."

Hannah startled, looking up to see Gilderoy Lockhart looming over her, his figure casting a shadow above and around her.

"Professor— I mean, uh, Mr Lockhart," she greeted awkwardly.

"Gilderoy is fine," he appeased her, sitting beside her. He was dressed in a stunning robe of blue and purple, the colours almost mesmerising in their beauty. "How are you finding our safe haven?"

"I, it's nice," she hedged. "Thank you for letting me stay here."

"Of course!" he exclaimed, his hands wide and welcoming. "I have need of your assistance, if you wouldn't mind? It's just a small matter, nothing to worry about at all!"

"Um. Sure."

He smiled wide at her, and where his smile had once been charming, he suddenly looked somewhat like a shark, grinning at his prey.

"Thank you, my dear. I'll collect you this evening, yes?"

She nodded cautiously. "What is it you need me to do?" she asked.

"Just a little matter, dear," he replied. "I'll explain the details later."

He stood and smiled down at her, his hand stroking her head. As he lowered it, gripping the long strands of his hair, she thought she saw his eyes flash greedily. "Such beautiful hair, you have, my dear."

"I… thank you?"

He released her and stepped away, sweeping from the room. Hannah watched him go with an uncomfortable squirming sensation in her stomach.

…

"So… you might have been right."

Terry's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"I met Gilderoy today," she murmured, sitting close to him. "He's asked for my assistance with a matter this evening and I just… there was something weird about it. And he… he complimented my hair."

She knew she sounded ridiculous but…

"Tonight's the new moon," Terry replied, looking around them cautiously. "I… I've been following the lunar cycle. You know. Just in case."

Hannah's heart sunk. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Run."

"Run where? There's nowhere to go, Terry! The world is in shambles!"

Terry sighed and nodded. "I know. I… I could go with you?"

Hannah shook her head. "You're safe here, Terry. I'll be okay. I just… I just have to find my new… place in the world, I suppose."

"Look after yourself," he whispered, reaching a hesitant hand over to squeeze her knee. "Be careful, okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I. Thanks. For warning me. I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

Terry's lips tilted into a wry smile. "I wouldn't have believed me either. It's nuts."

…

She waited until the last possible moment, and then slipped from her room. The corridors were eerily silent and still, the moon casting shadows through the windows. She made it to the main double doors without running into anyone, and opened it as quietly as she could, just wide enough for her to shift through the opening.

And then, she run.

Her heart pounded in her chest and she didn't understand why. She didn't even know that she was in danger!

She ran through the field surrounding the building, looking for somewhere, anywhere she could sit and gather herself, but there was nothing. It was almost wasteland like, though the grass was lush and tickling her ankles as she run.

She slowed to catch her breath, the panting and the stitch in her side making it hard for her to keep going.

A rustle behind her made her spin around, and she saw a quick flash of blue and purple, highlighted by the moon and then—

…

There was chanting when she woke. She struggled against the bindings, but the rope rubbed at her bare skin, making her cry out in pain.

Gilderoy Lockhart stood above her, his pearly teeth shining in the moonlight.

"Really my dear," he said quietly, when he saw her eyes wide. "Did you expect to escape so easily? I think not."

Written for;

365 - 20. Require

1000 - 572. Pillow