A/N: Hey there. Am sincerely sorry for the long delay – I would have posted this waaay earlier, but as we all know, ff.net has been a little 'out of action' recently… Anyway, I've loved each and every review, so thanks to everyone for persevering and continuing to follow this story. : )
.Chapter 15.
She couldn't look at him.
She'd never felt so foolish. To have fallen asleep in his class in the first place was embarrassing enough, but to have woken up screaming… she shuddered slightly. She tried so hard to keep her past hidden, desperate to save herself the pain of reliving it, and to prevent others from becoming involved. It was too dangerous, both for herself and for them. Her nightmares were evidence of her weakness, and it was always a good idea to keep ones weaknesses to oneself.
But now Remus and his entire fourth year DADA class had caught a glimpse of what lay beneath her calm façade. They had seen how vulnerable she really was, how crippled by fear and heartbreak. Or perhaps they just thought she was crazy. Perhaps that was preferable…
Elena was aware of long seconds of silence ticking past. Apprehension was killing her. Why didn't he say anything? She had to speak, had to say something, it only to break the terrible stillness that had fallen in the room.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly, and was astonished by how steady her voice sounded. It gave her the confidence to risk a glance at his face. But the depth of compassion she saw in his beautiful eyes tore fiercely at her heart, and she turned her gaze away again, unable to bear his kindness.
"Do you have them often?" He asked softly.
"Have what?" She was being purposely obtuse, and they both knew it.
"Your nightmares," he supplied simply.
There was a long pause, then Elena replied in a low voice, "Sometimes I am afraid to sleep. Other times I can not bear to stay awake. It makes little difference really, the memories still find me. Always the same. Over and over. I just – I just can't – " Her hands were shaking now, and her throat began to close over. She had never told anyone about the dreams before. She really didn't think she could do it now.
Remus dropped to one knee beside her chair and grasped her trembling hands in both of his. They felt strong and warm, and she clung to them, unable to help herself. Slowly, the shaking dissipated from her body, and a measure of calmness was reclaimed.
Until he spoke again. "Can you talk about it?" He asked gently.
She lifted her gaze and stared at him, her eyes wide with fear, her mouth ready to form the words of refusal. But this time, his gaze held hers, and the words she actually heard herself speak were, "I dream about the night they died. That's what I see. Every time."
He didn't need to ask who 'they' were, but he sensed that she needed to talk about this. She didn't want to, that much was obvious. But she needed to. It was long overdue. A letter to Dumbledore explaining her family's fate wasn't sufficient. She needed to speak the words out loud, to take the memories that circled in the darkness of her mind and expose them to the daylight. It would not take away her pain, but it would do so much to lighten the burden she carried.
The question was whether or not she had the strength to put this story into words.
Remus stayed quiet, and waited. He held her gaze steadily, and did not release her hands.
After a few more moments of silence, she began to speak, her voice soft and distant as she remembered. "It was cold, that night. No moon, mid-winter. Everyone was gathered around the fire – me, Mum, Dad, Dawne, Gerald… Dawne was my sister. My twin." God, but it hurt to say 'was'. Elena swallowed, and pressed on. "Gerald was our brother, our baby brother, only eighteen. Mum couldn't have any more children after Dawne and I, but when Gerry was only two his parents died. His mother and father were Mum and Dad's best friends, and though they were Muggles, Mum had noticed their son's magical talent. When they died, she was so upset that she arranged to adopt the toddler into our family, and he grew up with us. At the time, Dad wasn't sure that Mum had done the right thing, but Gerry never gave them cause to regret their decision. He was a special boy. We all adored him, me and Dawne more than anyone..."
She frowned, and her tone changed abruptly. "Life wasn't perfect though. I mean, I knew that I was different to the friends I'd grown up with, knew that I was a witch… but my parents would never let me act upon that. They never told me anything about why they were so afraid of the magical power we all possessed… I didn't understand - at least, not until it was too late… I used to fight with them all the time, especially toward the end. I was so frustrated. I was twenty five and I'd scarcely ever been off the island. But still my parents wouldn't give me any reasons for their over-protectiveness. I just didn't realise the magnitude of the evil they were trying to protect us all from. I should have accepted their restrictions. I should have been a better daughter to them. I should have…"
She took a deep breath. "I should have died with them that night."
Remus began to shake his head, but Elena stopped him, a small spark of anger flaring in her eyes. "Don't you dare tell me I'm wrong," she said, an edge of sharpness in her voice. "You don't know me, Remus. You don't know what I do and don't deserve. I watched my father die, and I did nothing. I stood there petrified. To stupid and cowardly even to scream. They tried to kill me next. My sister died in my place. My mother tried to intervene, so they turned on her. I couldn't stop them. Gerry was shouting something, telling me to run perhaps… I could barely hear him. Because I was next, I knew it. I knew it. I finally managed to string enough thoughts together to perform a spell, and it saved my life - their Curse missed me. Then - then I saved myself. I bolted for the open doorway, but I made the mistake of looking back. One of the dark men tried again to hit me with a death Curse, but Gerry threw himself at the man and knocked him off balance. The spell missed again, and this time I just ran. I left my brother. He was still alive when I escaped - I might have saved him. But I ran away. I don't even know what happened. I don't know why any of it happened at all. I only know that my family is dead, and both my brother and my sister died to save my life. I didn't deserve it. I don't. I'm a coward. I was ungrateful and headstrong and I caused my parents pain. It's not right that I should be the only survivor. It's not right that they are dead. It's not right that sometimes I find myself hating them for leaving me alone…"
She paused, and her voice softened in pain. "I just feel like there's been some terrible mistake. How can I be the only one left? How can they be gone? Why did it happen this way? Who were those men, why was my family a threat to them? And how … how am I supposed to keep going? How long before the fear and the pain and the loneliness and the guilt get too much? Every morning I wonder how I'm going to make it through the day, and every evening I'm amazed that I have. One day it will be too much. The walls will break, and I'll just drown, or be crushed…" She took a shuddering breath, and she closed her eyes as her grip on his hands tightened.
"It's too much," she whispered, "I can't keep it up for much longer. They're still out there, you know. The dark men. And one day I'll open a door or I'll glance out a window and they'll be there, waiting for me… they'll come and finish what they started… Some days I want to die, but not like that. Never like that…" A low sob caught in her throat.
She wasn't sure who moved first – whether she had fallen forward against him or whether he had pulled her into his arms - but suddenly she was crushed in his embrace, her arms linked tightly around his neck, his hands on the small of her back and on the back of her head. Her next words were muffled by tears and by the heavy cloth of his robes. "Oh God, Remus, when will it stop? I'm just so tired, I want it all to stop…"
And then she was crying openly, tears burning her eyes and her throat and dampening his clothes. He didn't seem to care. He rocked her close, whispering soft, senseless words into her hair. Promising she would be safe, things would be all right now.
She listened to his promises, letting them seep softly into her blood.
And there on the floor of the empty classroom, held tightly within the circle of his arms, Elena finally … finally … for the first time in so long …
Felt safe.