Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise. I do own my right to fantasize. See what I did there?
Chapter Four – Window
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I woke up to bright lights that hover above me, the lights hurt my eyes so much that I decided to close them and focus on something else. Other than the blinding lights, I stir due to the strong smell of chemicals that permeate all over the room. The chemicals smell like strong vodka or whiskey.
The next thing I notice is the feeling of being clean. Completely clean and sanitized. I do not feel dirt or mold which usually scrape areas of my skin, my hair feels light instead of heavy with collected oils and gunk. I can actually smell myself, and I smell like the chemicals in the room, except milder.
Knowing that I am so clean to the point that I can actually smell anything at all, makes me feel strangely at ease. I don't care that I do not know where I am, I don't care if someone can intrude anytime soon. I feel too clean to care about safety. Somehow, I decided to see cleanliness as a sign of safety.
Being this clean makes me forget that I came from a filthy dungeon.
Being this clean makes me aware that I am no longer a prison.
I lived in a prison for five years. I live in a prison..I lived in Azkaban.
Someone enters the room.
"Hello there." The person greets, holding a tray of what appears to be food.
I try to utter a word. But nothing comes out from my throat which feels like sandpaper.
The person pours me a glass of water and hands it to me. Having satisfied my thirst, I concentrate on forming a question. "Where am I?" I ask, noticing that my voice still sound ragged.
"You are at the New York-Presbyterian Hospital." The person answers.
"No, what I mean is..what is the location of..this hospital? And..and what day is it?" I ask.
"You are at New York City, dear. Today is June 25." The person says in a slow and kind manner.
"And the year?" I request meekly, knowing that my questions would be strange.
"The year is 2003..are you alright?" The person asks, most likely concerned with my odd queries.
The person appears to be a lady, seeing as she is wearing a white skirt and blouse. However, her face was anything but feminine. Oddly, her face reminds me of someone I knew when I was younger. Her face reminds me of…Crabbe. Yes..that's right, I used to have a friend named Crabbe..Crabbe is dead.
Crabbe is dead..this person reminds me of Crabbe. But Crabbe is dead now.
"Crabbe died because of the war."
"What? What did you say?" The lady asks, confused at what I said.
"Crabbe, a boy who died in the war. The war was five years ago." I explain.
"A war? What war would that be?"
"The war with..the war happened five years ago…" I simply repeated, thinking that explaining about this war would not do me any good. After all, this lady who looks like Crabbe, would not know about the war since she wasn't there. The war happened in a different realm, the magical realm. She is not from there.
No..this lady..this entire place, is not of that realm.
I was from that magical realm, but then I am here..in this realm..this realm where muggles live.
Ah yes..I was banished from the magical realm. The magistrate..the magistrate exiled me into..the muggle realm. This is the muggle realm, I am in the muggle realm. I am in a muggle place, a muggle room in a muggle building. And this lady is a muggle, and this bed is muggle, and this food is muggle.
I laugh.
I am exiled in the muggle realm. I am exiled from where I was born.
I laugh some more.
"Is something wrong?" The lady asks, placing her tray in front of me. The tray is filled with food.
The tray has a cup of hot chocolate, and a plate of sausages and potatoes.
The food smells great, my mouth salivates almost instantly.
"Enjoy your food dear, I hope you get better." The lady says with a look of pity, before she leaves me alone with the tray of food in front of me.
I sip the hot chocolate, it tastes divine. I sip some more, and more until the hot chocolate is gone. I relish the warmth that radiates on my stomach, having satisfied a hunger I have ignored for hours..or even days. I tried eating the sausages, but I already lost my appetite. My stomach is already full of chocolate.
Weakly, I bring the tray to rest on a table attached on the wall beside me.
I can eat later.
Since no one was around, I feel like I can look around the room freely. I look at the ceiling that I first saw when I opened my eyes, I feel the blankets that are rough and stiff but warm. Slowly, I become aware that the bed that I am lying in is too soft and lumpy. The floor looks more comfortable and flat.
I look at the window nearby, the window shows buildings that are shorter that where I am in, and then there are buildings that are taller than where I am in. I see a flying object pass by, the flying object appears to be a metal bird. Apart from buildings, I see a sky. The sky is clear and..blue in color.
The sky is blue..blue like the ocean.
Suddenly I feel the urge to look through my good pocket, the pocket with no holes in it. But when I feel through my chest for the pocket. The pocket is not there. Unexpectedly, feeling clean is not enough to calm me down. I need to find my pocket, my pocket carried a cloth which is very important to me.
I look around the room to find a table located on a corner, the table is holding clear container which appears to be holding my old clothes. Quickly, I pull the blanket away from me and step out of the bed, I walk to the table and take my belongings. I open the container and take my old shirt, the shirt smells.
I try not to breathe in the smell of the shirt as I rummage my pocket. Like a child, I smile when I find what I am looking for. Pulling the cloth which I was desperate to find, I see that it is in the same condition as I left it. The blue handkerchief stands out from my grimy things. A bit sullied, but good.
The initials are still there, gleaming like gold and bold yet subtle. I let my fingers feel through the embroidery, tracing the letters carefully. The initials are: Hermione, G. They are the initials of someone I used to know, initials of a person who was kind..when I did not deserve her kindness or..compassion.
Compassion..like the blue sky..like that lady who brought me a tray of food earlier, like that bed and this room and the feeling of being clean. I feel so comfortable, and clean, and more alive than I have been in years. I bring the cloth to my chest and feel my heart swell with what I can only describe as happiness.
Tears started to fall from my face, and I dare to use the handkerchief to wipe off my emotional sobbing. I go down on my knees to touch the floor, not interested in keeping myself as sanitized as I can be. I don't care if the cloth is ruining my cleanly shaved face. I don't care if my knees touch the ground.
These tiled floors that smell like chemicals..this handkerchief that smells like my past, I feel both of them strongly. And then, slowly but surely, I start feeling sensations that I have kept in a box for so long. I hear people bustling around from the outside, I hear machines in the room that hum with consistency.
Reality is starting to settle in, facts are starting to come back to me.
Bringing the cloth in front of me, I notice that my arm is scarred with the dark lord's mark. The skull taunts me like a nightmare. Only now did I remember, I forgot all about this mark..this curse. All this time, the mark was waiting patiently to haunt me as soon as I regain my balance, regain my sanity.
Yes, that's right. That is what I was.
I was a death eater, I followed a man..I followed a monster. I am now banished to live the rest of my life in the muggle realm, for sins I have committed five years ago. I was banished because I was a death eater. I murdered and tortured innocent people, people who I will now live with for as long as I live.
I killed people, people like that lady who gave me a tray of food, people with initials embroidered in their handkerchiefs. People who were kind and compassionate, bright as the sun and clear as the sky.
I killed people like her, I killed people like Hermione Granger.
Guilt started to plague me, drowning thought of being free.
I am condemned to live amongst people I killed. I am condemned to relive my past, over and over again.
I can't. I can't do it. I don't want to live that kind of life, I don't want to leave this room and see people..muggles who I used to kill without hesitation. If go out there, if I see this realm..I swear, I swear I will go mad and lose the little ounce of humanity I have left. I might hurt someone, I might kill again.
Strangely, my arm where the skull is in, started to itch and burn. The skull tattooed on my skill, feels hot and intolerable. My brain is playing tricks..the darklord..the darklord does not live anymore. What I am feeling on my arm, is just a figment of my imagination..I just want to..I just want to kill in order to forget.
NO. I won't. I won't let that happen. I'd rather die than kill anyone else.
Frantically, I search around the room to find something to keep my arm from burning. And then, and then I see the window. The window with large buildings outside..the window..the window can be opened from where I am. I can open it, I can open the window and end this once and for all.
I go to the window, and open it. I feel the breeze on my face and I hear the streets from below. Without a care in the world, I let my bare feet step unto the edge of the window. I sit down slowly, resting on the window sill, gazing ahead like I just made the most ingenious decision that I can ever have in my life.
I can just kill myself, right here, right now. And my arm won't itch, and I won't have the urge for blood. I will just leave this world at a safer predicament, no one has to get hurt. All I have to do is just fall from where I am, fall and leave everything behind. I won't have nightmares, I won't remember the past.
I won't remember her.
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"Yeah yeah yeah…"
- Tom Felton