Aurora

At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, only here and there was a rare growth of ordinary green grass — almost everything here was overgrown with honeysuckle, weeds, thickets of outlandish bushes, as well as rare unprecedented plants — here and climbing ferns, and wild orchid, and multi-colored ivy. When, under the cover of night, we quietly approached the forest, and only the dim light of the young moon, ominously peeking out from behind the tops of tall pines, illuminated our path, the first seeds of doubt began to creep into my soul. What are we actually doing? Why are we doing this?

You've been too reckless again, haven't you, Miss Lestrange? I thought you were smarter.

I "heard" Snape's sarcastic voice in my head.

I was sure that he could read minds: he knew too much of what he seemed not supposed to know. No wonder he deceived Dumbledore for so long, being loyal to the Dark Lord, in fact. What if at night he turns into a bat and flies around the castle?

Merlin, what a nonsense. He either wanders around the school, separating kissing couples in the corners, or... in general, it doesn't matter. Hunts down the rest of the hardcore violators of the school's law and order and takes points off them with pleasure, I guess. Or just sleep soundly like all normal people. Who else, besides Anna and me, would think of sneaking into the Forbidden Forest at night? Unless, Potter.

Although, here in the forest, something worse than bats can be found. Fear gripped me in a chilling cold somewhere in the lower abdomen. I stopped and took a breath, taking a restless look around the castle and the surrounding area. There is quite a bit to go. Pulling the hood of my robe lower over my eyes, I sighed heavily and turned to a winding path leading straight into the forest. It seemed to me that I heard the howl of werewolves or hungry wolves coming from a dark thicket... Yes, it just seemed.

I brushed aside the bothersome thoughts, trying to muster up the determination to move on — to the very depths of the forest. Anna reincarnated as a hawk and circled over my head like a dark shadow.

In the distance, barely visible against the background of the majestic crowns of oaks and pines, shoots of a young fern grew, the seeds of which shone in the light of the moon like drops of dew. I silently bent down in front of a large bush and carefully collected the valuable grains one by one into a specially prepared flask. Who would have thought that such an unprecedented magical power lurks in them?

Following the seeds, branches of yellow wormwood were stacked in my bag, hitting me in the nose with their specific smell. I wrinkled my nose as I stuffed them deeper into my bag. Flinching at the crunch of each twig, I pushed my way through the thickets of weeds down to the path leading directly to the greenhouses of Madame Sprout. Basil, thank Merlin, grew right in greenhouses, just like mandrake roots — and now both of these ingredients were hidden in the right amount in my immense bag.

Walking through the forest and collecting various herbs, I lost track of time. The moon has already disappeared behind a suddenly swooping cloud. A thunderstorm was coming in, not uncommon in September.

I took my wand out of my bag and lit it with a spell. The warm light from the wand gave me confidence, illuminating a large flower bush near the greenhouses. How good are the asters blooming with lush color, how beautiful! Taking the scissors out of my bag and bending over the lilac buds, exuding a dizzying aroma, I began to painstakingly cut off the heads from the stems and put them in my bag. Leaning over the flowering clusters, I inhaled their intoxicating scent and closed my eyes. The hawk above my head made some displeased sound, and at the same time, the ringing silence of the night was cut by the noise of a branch creaking under my feet.

I whispered "Nox" and hid in the shade of an aster bush. Who else had been brought here in the middle of the night?

"Who is there?" an unfamiliar voice asked sharply from above my head. "Lumos!"

A beam of bright light hit me in the face. It almost blinded me, but it was enough to identify the person who caught me at the crime scene.

"Potter! What are you doing here?"

"I can ask you the same thing," the Gryffindor drawled in an disgruntled tone and reluctantly gave me his hand. "Come on, let me help you up. Why are you still awake, Lestrange?"

I was angry, but I grabbed his outstretched hand anyway. His palm was warm and soft, just like his suddenly softened gaze.

"It doesn't concern you. Of course, you can inform on me, but..."

"I'm not a Slytherin to just run and complain to Mommy," Potter snorted.

"Oh, you ill-mannered boor! And why is Dumbledore constantly covering for you?"

"Said the one who always hides behind the back of the Bat!"

"I'm not hiding anywhere!"

"Well, yes, just wandering around God knows where at night!"

"Just like you, by the way!"

"I was... it doesn't really matter where I was!"

"I don't care where you've been! You better go where you're going, Potter."

"Watch out!"

He abruptly jerked towards me and knocked me to the ground, covering me with his body, as if saving me from impending danger.

"That crazy bird was flying right at you! Damn it!"

I turned my head up and saw Anna swooping down, aiming her beak straight at Potter's head. He shielded himself from her with his hands and cursed. Potter raised his wand to cast a spell on the bird, but I stopped him.

"Wait! Don't touch her. Let's get out of here."

I grabbed my bag, shoved all the ingredients deep into it, lit my wand, and rushed out of the forest. Potter, continuing to curse, moved after me. The bird followed us like an ominous shadow, and Potter looked at it incredulously, then at me, nevertheless, not daring to use spells.

In the back of my mind, I hoped that Potter wouldn't smell the wormwood stench coming from my bag and wonder why I was hiding it there. He was always overly twitchy.

Behind me, I could feel his ragged breathing. What did I yell at him for? He didn't do anything wrong to me. I squinted at the Gryffindor from under lowered eyelashes, trying to do it imperceptibly. There were barely perceptible drops of sweat on his face, and strands of black hair were stuck to his forehead. He was breathing heavily and nervously looking around, waving his glow wand from side to side to better see the road. I turned away to look under my feet — every now and then they were entangled in the sprouts of some kind of rubbish — small stones, weeds, tree roots. Once I stumbled and almost fell, but Potter caught me from behind. His strong arms wrapped around my waist, preventing me from falling. He looked straight into my scared face and said:

"I thought Snape didn't let you get away with this. What will he say when he finds out? Will Slytherin finally lose half a point? You are all exemplary students!"

He grunted and roughly pushed aside a branch that had come from nowhere, blocking our path.

I stifled a chuckle, not showing that his words amused me.

"I never understood why you all suck up to that greasy haired man..."

"Well, at least we're learning well. And you always spoiled even the simplest potion in his lessons. Are you afraid of him, huh?"

He turned around and looked at me with eyes full of righteous anger, about to refute my statement, but suddenly his face was distorted by a grimace of pain. His hand twitched to the scar, and a loud scream escaped from his chest. My bag fell out of my hands, and all the hard-earned stuff fell out of it in a heap. Potter's face was whiter than death, his forehead covered with sweat. He tried to grab my shoulder to keep his balance, but he missed. Staggering, he tried to grab onto the nearest branch, but his hand found nothing but air, and he collapsed to the ground. His body shook with convulsions, his eyes seemed to glaze over.

I stared at Potter in wild horror and didn't know what to do. My brain was thinking frantically. I rushed to my bag and pulled out a vial of anti-swoon potion, but Potter didn't just pass out — he was in some kind of hell.

I shook him and leaned as close to him as possible.

"Harry! What happened to you? Drink this, you'll feel better..."

I brought the potion vial right up to his mouth, but he pushed my hand away and most of the potion spilled to the ground. He continued to shake like crazy, and I felt that I was already panicking no worse.

I leaned as close to him as possible and forcefully poured the remaining contents of the vial into his mouth. As soon as I accidentally touched his forehead, I felt as if I had been struck by lightning. There was a flash of bright light before my eyes, and I heard someone's voice, as if from afar. No, voices. Female and male, they merged into some sinister duet, now drowning out, then shouting over each other. The male voice threatened to kill the woman, he demanded, he ordered, he subordinated. The voice was high and icy, it sent goosebumps down my spine, and I felt my head explode. My ears rang, and a series of images flashed before my eyes: Draco, falling to his knees in front of the Dark Lord, who was laughing hysterically, his blood-chilling laughter chilling his veins. You must kill him, the Dark Lord's voice in my head commanded him. The picture suddenly changed to another — a flash of green light, a shapeless figure falling from a high tower, a man with a raised wand, descending down the stairs in a long black robe. The picture changed to the image of a dead red-haired woman, lying motionless near the cradle of a baby who did not stop screaming. Her eyes were staring at me, which made my mouth dry with fear. What's happening? Who is this woman?

Suddenly, she stood up abruptly and moved straight towards me.

The corpse held out its hand to me, surveying me with a look of cold, empty eyes.

"You," the woman said. "Can you see me?"

I stared at her with all my eyes, not understanding what was happening to me. I was literally numb with fear, my knees buckled. I thought I was going to fall right now, or convulse, just like Potter.

Suddenly the woman screamed loudly:

"Tell him! Tell him!"

Her body ceased to be solid, she became nothing more than a ghost, and my vision dissipated along with her scream, full of despair and pain.

I woke up lying on a pile of earth, stones and some pods. I had a slight shiver.

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Potter's pale, dazed face, leaning over me and shaking me frantically by the shoulders.

"Yes stop it! I'm fine!"

I shoved his hands away and tried to get up on my own. I didn't succeed.

Potter grabbed my shoulders and shook me once more.

"What happened to you? You fell into some sort of trance..."

"Actually, I wanted to ask what's wrong with you! You were shaking, you were writhing in pain! I was terribly scared! Thank Merlin, I had a potion on hand, and it seems to have brought you back to your senses."

"I passed out, fainted... Then I woke up abruptly and saw that you felt bad..."

"You grabbed your scar, and then convulsed, screaming in pain! Does this happen to you often?"

"I can't tell you. He hasn't been sick for a long time, I don't know what happened."

Potter actually looked shocked and bewildered. It was clear that he did not lying. Gryffindors have never been able to do that.

"You looked like you were possessed by demons," I blurted out, beside myself with fear. "You need to get to the hospital wing urgently!"

"Everything is fine with me. I'm telling you, it's okay. Ron and Hermione... I have to tell them everything."

He froze in place with a worried look, from which I concluded that this was not the first time such a situation had happened to him. I shrugged my shoulders and looked at him like he was insane.

"Well, if that's okay with you..."

"But, something unusual happened to you, too! When I woke up, you seemed to have fallen into a trance! You lay still with your eyes open, which were, I don't know, like Professor Trelawney's when she..."

I didn't listen to his chatter anymore. Fear gripped my being like ticks. The flash of memories made me shiver.

Potter looked at me with unconcealed horror.

"Has this happened to you before? What was it?"

I looked into his restless green eyes and answered honestly:

"No."

"What did you see?"

"I... I can't tell you right now... I think I need to... I need to go to the castle, to our bedrooms. Help me."

I tried to get up, but staggered, and leaned on a well-timed shoulder.

"I'll take you to the castle," Potter said confidently. I nodded briefly and took his arm.

"It's good that I met you," he said.

"What are you talking about?" I chuckled, shivering. "I'm sure you could handle it yourself. It's not the first time for you to be a hero and escape from mortal danger."

Where did I get the strength for sarcasm? At the mention of the word "mortal" I shuddered all over, and the terrible shadows of the Dark Lord, Draco, the man in black and the red-haired woman flashed before my eyes with a bright flash again. I cringed and looked at Potter.

The rest of the way we walked in silence.

I looked up and Anna was nowhere to be seen. Very timely, of course.

"Will you walk to your common room by yourself?" Potter asked me at the dungeon entrance.

"Yes, I'm fine. I just need to relax and recover after all the events of the night."

"Okay," the Gryffindor said, clearly questioning my words. "You need to get some sleep — you're quite pale. I'll go then."

He hesitated a bit and took my hand. I jerked and turned around, frozen at the entrance to the picture aperture. The portraits on the walls were already awake and staring at us with bewilderment and irritation.

"Young people can't sleep today," the portrait of the Bloody Baron muttered maliciously.

"Completely lost shame!" echoed the portrait of the old witch in green robes.

A frightened Anna rushed towards me, having already managed to reincarnate. Her face expressed extreme concern.

I opened my mouth to say a word to her, but a flash of pain pierced my head — apparently, an overabundance of stress had an effect — the night turned out to be unforeseen heavy.

"Come on, I'll help you get in..."

Ignoring the protesting portraits, we entered our living room together and headed to the bedrooms.

"Why was Potter wandering through the forest at night? Is he a sleepwalker? I always knew he was some kind of unbalanced psycho..."

Anna's grumbling soothed me, and my heart grew warmer. I squeezed my friend's hand tightly.

"Have you taken a bag?" Anna asked as we entered the bedrooms. "I didn't even think that this could happen!"

"Of course, we just stumbled into the Forbidden Forest at night," I said sarcastically, handing her the bag into her hands and feeling how it was getting easier for me to breathe. "Where did you going?"

"I lost sight of you as soon as the moon disappeared once again, and nothing was visible! And I, without a wand, couldn't disincarnate right away from you, suddenly Potter will notice. In general, I flew to the castle, I thought you were already there — I just couldn't find a place for myself when I didn't find you there. I flew into the forest again — and you were not there either. I returned here again, disincarnated, and here you go together, with this Potter, like two doves! Why is he so polite? He is usually a cocky, impudent boor, especially with ours!"

"He owes me a little," I replied, kicking off my shoes in relief and pulling off my robes.

I barely found the strength to crawl to the bed, throw things at the head of the bed and lie down. As soon as my head touched the pillow, the pain eased a little, and the fatigue took its toll. My eyelids closed almost immediately, as if filled with lead. The thought flashed through my tired head if I might be dreaming one of those terrible visions that were clearly intended for Potter, but which I saw. It seems that I was reading information that was intended specifically for him — after all, the visions began as soon as I touched his scar. But I don't have Legilimency. What was it?

I didn't have time to think about it. I fell into sleep.