Author's Note: This is the first day in eight weeks that I've been in my own home with no company. To celebrate this sudden freedom, I decided to sit down and work on my poor, abandoned fanfic. I was thinking about writing a page, but I ended up with a whole chapter. All written in one day – that's a new one for me. Granted, the first part was written at 2 AM this morning before I went to bed, so the time sequence may be a little incoherent. It was awful before, but I think I've fixed it. Then of course, I didn't wake up until noon, so I felt sluggish the entire day and was just hit with the desire to write at 10 at night. *sigh* Late night writing, c'est la vie. Any questions, anything you find confusing (you most likely will find something) just say so in your review. Thanks, Rose.
Chapter Seven: Truth
Nightmares and visions continued to plague Elizabeth frequently after the night, three days ago, that she had performed her first Intoned Charm, continually growing stronger and more vivid. And they were not just in the form of late night dreams anymore. The daydreams that found their way into Elizabeth's mind were almost as disturbing, although waking up to be surrounded by people and light was far more comforting than the dead silence of the dark. Professor Flitwick was becoming especially concerned.
Elizabeth had commented on her first day that she felt something peculiar in the Charms classroom, although what then she had considered a comforting feeling, she now thought of as more frightening. The first time she'd found reason to fear Charms had occurred three days ago, just after lunch. She had been sitting gratefully back in her seat in the class she most loved, when an irrepressible wave of tiredness had washed over her. She was exhausted from staying up nearly to dawn each morning working fanatically on intoning further charms, and when the lull of comfort of the classroom had hit her, she'd readily accepted it and had begun nodding off in her seat.
She had been surprised when, still half-awake, she began to hallucinate – or something close. She could still see her fellow classmates through bleary eyes, but in the corner of the room stood the girl who was continually haunting Elizabeth's dreams, and the boy who occasionally appeared with her. The girl was sobbing. The boy gripped her tightly by the robes on her shoulders, trying with all his might to quiet her, but she pushed him away. He reached for her again, and she became hysterical, screaming that he shouldn't touch her, he couldn't save her. She pulled out of his arms and fled from the room, tears blinding her startlingly blue eyes.
Elizabeth had awoken with tears running down her own face, and had had to quickly excuse herself from class.
***
It was a Thursday night when the girl, although older looking this time, appeared once again in Elizabeth's dreams.
In the deep dark of midnight a young woman was running across the cobbled stones of a wide street, her shoes echoing eerily. Click, clack, click, clack. She seemed frightened, although there are few who wouldn't have been on such a night. Peaceful as it was, the blackness was almost unbearable, pressing in ever more tightly. No stars shown in the sky, and no sounds could be heard besides the sharp tone of her shoes. Click, clack, click, clack. The woman never deterred. Her path was set, her determination clear. After several minutes simply running, a tear caught the light of a solitary street lamp on the corner, running coolly down the woman's cheek. She stiffened and her fists clenched. Something was coming. She knew it, but she never stopped. Perhaps, if she just pushed on a little longer, if she ignored the evil seeping up to catch her, perhaps . . . But the last thought was never finished. A light came rushing out of nowhere, and in the blink of an eye, the woman was engulfed by it and lay sprawled on the ground, her arms and legs bent unnaturally, her thick honey-brown hair spilling onto the cold stones of the street. She was dead. And a cold menacing laugh filled the air . . .
Elizabeth shot up in bed, suddenly wide awake, wiping the sweat from her brow and gasping in quick, shallow breaths. Her dreams were getting worse. This wasn't the first time she'd had this one; it had been haunting her for nearly a week. But it had seemed unusually vivid tonight. She had felt the heart of the woman beating as she ran, heard the echo of her steps in the silent street, been swept up in the sudden rush as the woman lay instantly dead.
As her heart rate steadied itself, Elizabeth glanced around the dorm room, and jolted to see three faces staring back at her through the night. She was about to reach for her wand, when she realized she was seeing her three roommates. Hermione looked concerned. Lavender and Parvati simply looked petrified. "You screamed," Lavender commented, her face as white as ever.
Elizabeth didn't know how to respond. She finally asked, "Did I?"
"Yes," Parvati replied, in the same monotone voice as Lavender. "High. And shrill."
"And loud," Lavender added.
Elizabeth continued to stare at them. She couldn't recall having screamed. But she could imagine what it would have sounded like if she had. And that sound would be the perfect explanation to the terrified faces looming out of the darkness. She turned numbly to find that Hermione had come to sit beside her. "Are you okay?" Hermione asked, her voice soothing. "You're shaking."
"I'm fine," Elizabeth answered, although she didn't feel it. "I'll be fine soon," she amended. "Sorry for waking you."
The girls each huddled back under their covers, trying desperately to recapture sleep. Several minutes had passed when Lavender whispered, "Don't you ever do that again." Her voice quaked with fear. "I thought someone was dying."
Elizabeth shuddered, and repeated her answer to Hermione's question, more as a comfort to Lavender than to herself. "I'll be fine soon."
The girls drifted off into sleep.
***
Elizabeth, however, couldn't have been more wrong. However fervently she hoped for it, the nightmares wouldn't leave her alone.
None of the Gryffindor fourth year girls slept very soundly after being awoken by Elizabeth's cry, and they all awoke the next morning feeling like they'd received no rest at all. Charms was their first class, and Elizabeth knew even before stepping into the classroom that she wouldn't make it through the whole lesson awake, no matter how hard she tried.
She was right. About halfway through, her eyelids felt leaden and began to droop. And there she was again – the girl with the soft honey-brown curls and bright blue eyes. It was the same daydream as last time – the girl resisting the boy's help, pulling away and crying feverishly, insisting that he leave her alone before he got hurt, too. Only this time, instead of allowing her to flee the room, the boy pulled her tight to his chest and vowed to protect her no matter what. She ceased her desperate sobbing, and the boy looked down at her to say, "See? I told you everything would be all right," but the words stuck in his throat as he saw her face. The girl in his arms was dead.
The entire class jumped as Elizabeth awoke screaming. Her face was white, and she was shaking violently. Slowly, she looked around and remembered where she was, gradually regaining control. "Miss Satine?" Professor Flitwick asked. "Are you okay?" She nodded softly, and after much insistence, Flitwick returned to teaching, although he couldn't help but notice how Elizabeth's face remained as white as a sheet the remaining half hour of class, and that her breathing came in short, shallow gasps, stopping altogether every few moments as she clenched her fists tightly.
After class he called her to his desk. "Miss Satine," he began, "it has come to my attention that . . ."
"Professor, don't!" she interrupted. "I'm sorry for disturbing class, I really am. Just don't make me explain. I can't."
" . . . that your recent work is of a much lower quality than I'm used to seeing from you," the professor finished, ignoring his student's outburst.
"What?" Elizabeth stared at him blankly.
He sighed and looked her in the eyes. "Something is bothering you, Elizabeth, and your work is suffering from it. I won't interfere if you're not comfortable telling me, but I suggest you find some way to resolve whatever's going on. Because if this keeps up for much longer, your average may drop to failing."
She gaped at him, and for the first time the ridiculousness of how she'd been living recently hit her. She'd become so occupied with learning the ways of Intoned Charms and the Ancient Magic that she'd abandoned the work she was supposed to be doing. Not only that, but late nights and the exertion of so much energy and power was affecting her physically as well as academically. She was looking gaunt, thin, and sickly. Hermione had just that morning confronted her about it, begging to know what could possibly be going on that had caused such a great change in her friend in just four days. Elizabeth had said nothing and she said nothing now to the professor who was giving her the same concerned look Hermione had. She merely nodded and walked out the door. She collapsed beside the portrait of the Fat Lady, unable even to make it inside Gryffindor Tower before dissolving into tears.
*~*~*
Lily Evans glanced around to see Sirius Black darting into the halls from the Charms classroom she and Samantha had just left and muttered, "Just great. Following us again." Grabbing her friend's hand, she said, "Come on, Samantha. Let's speed up so we'll get to Potions with enough time to go over last night's assignment."
Lily was too late, for just at that moment, Sirius popped up behind the girls and cried cheerily, "Samantha!"
Samantha stopped, and was bemused to see the giddy, almost child-look expression on the boy's face. "What now, Sirius?" she asked with a laugh.
"I was just talking with Professor Flitwick
and . . ."
"Not another detention, I hope," Lily interjected.
Sirius looked at Lily with raised eyebrows. "That's exactly what James said," he commented, before turning back to Samantha. Lily rolled her eyes. "He wanted to tell me how much he loved the article I wrote for my detention assignment. He said it was really thoughtful and I have great potential! Can you believe that? He really liked it!"
Samantha laughed. "Of course he did. You're really smart when you try and you have a great sense of humor that shines through in your writing. I'm not surprised."
Sirius just stared at her for a minute, finally replying, "Well, I never could have done it without your help." Before he could think about what he was doing, he threw his arms around her in a tight hug. "Thanks," he murmured.
Lily watched him walk away with a critical eye, which she then turned on her best friend, who was still standing in the same position, her eyes fixed on Sirius' retreating back. Samantha looked up to find Lily staring at her.
"C'mon, Lil, don't look at me like that."
"You know what I'm going to say."
"Yes, but that doesn't mean it's true."
"Samantha, open your eyes! He has you trapped in the palm of his hand! He's manipulating you to get all the help and perfect grades he needs!"
"I think you're just jealous."
"Jealous! Sam, listen to me, there's nothing . . ."
"I'm sorry," Samantha sighed. "Forget I mentioned it, Lil. I've already lost Sarah, I can't bear to lose you, too."
Lily pursed her lips and walked the rest of the way to Potions in silence. Samantha couldn't see the truth now, but she would. Soon.
*~*~*
"Elizabeth – I think, the team thinks, that you should stop coming to Quidditch practice for awhile." Harry closed his eyes and braced himself for the blow. It was Friday afternoon, and he had been elected by the team to break the news to their newest practice member. Harry had prayed that Elizabeth wouldn't show up for this practice, and it wasn't too unlikely that his hope would come true, considering that Elizabeth hadn't been seen since first period Charms that morning. But as always, she had come. And now here she was, sitting in front of him, staring at him with wide eyes and her mouth frozen open in horror at his words. Harry knew this speechlessness wouldn't last for long, not with Elizabeth's energy.
Finally she stood up, disbelief giving her face a pained look. "Harry!" she cried emphatically. "How could you?! I thought you loved me coming to practice! I thought that was the main reason you're improving so much – finally having someone to fly against, one on one! And not to mention how much fun we've been having! When I came here this team had such dull, strict improvement drills. You have to admit it's better now! Fun, vigorous, and ever so much more helpful! The entire team admits you've never been flying better! What is it, Harry? You think I take this too lightly? That just because I'm not part of the team, I don't know what's best for it? How could you all turn on me like this?"
Harry sighed. This was what he'd been expecting. Despite her usually calm and cheerful demeanor, Elizabeth could be quite the handful when upset. But he wasn't worried; it never lasted for long. "Elizabeth," he said, his voice complacent, "We love having you work with us. You know that. But we're not going to use you to help us improve at your expense."
"What?" The girl looked genuinely confused.
"Look at you – you're thin, you're pale, you look sickly. You're overworking yourself. Hermione told us you're having trouble catching up on last year's work in addition to this year's homework. She said you're so busy and flustered you can't even concentrate on her Potions tutoring anymore."
"That's not true!"
"You spilled an entire cauldron of sun protection potion on Neville yesterday. He's as white as snow."
"I . . . I . . ."
Harry took advantage of Elizabeth's hesitance by saying firmly, "We've decided you can't come back to practice until you've sufficiently proved you're on top of your work. And when you regain some weight and put some color back in those cheeks. You'll be sorely missed, but it's for your own good."
Elizabeth's eyes filled with glittering tears. "But Harry, I need Quidditch practice. Without it I'll have no relief from all this work. And after a particularly hard practice, my dreams . . ." she paused, then whispered, "my dreams aren't so vivid."
Harry bit his lip. He understood perfectly well what she was talking about, and was tempted to give in. But then the girl swayed on her feet, and had to grab tight hold of the pole of the goalpost they were standing beside to keep from falling over. Harry hardened from concern about her weakness. "Go, Elizabeth. Get some rest."
She said nothing, just turned and walked away, dazed and upset.
"Elizabeth?"
She turned and gave Harry an empty look.
"Would you like to spend the next Hogsmeade trip with Ron, Hermione, and I? There's someone I'd like you to come and meet with us."
Elizabeth, not realizing what a big deal this invitation meant to Harry, merely looked at him and said, "I'll think about it. I might not be able to come. All that work I have to catch up on, you know." Harry watched her walk away, then put his face in his hands, feeling suddenly drained.
***
Elizabeth entered the common room hoping to find a little peace and quiet, but as soon as she stepped through the portrait hole, Hermione confronted her. "Elizabeth, what's the matter with you lately?"
"Not now, Hermione. Harry's just finished with me, and I've had enough."
"I'm your friend. I deserve to know what's going on."
"I'm tired. Don't you have some work you need to be doing? Some extra research or something?" Elizabeth's voice was mild enough, but Hermione felt the sting of the words.
"I should ask you the same question."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Intoned Charms, Elizabeth?" Hermione asked, holding up Samantha's little cream book. "What do you think you're doing taking on more work when you can't handle what you already have?"
"Hermione, just let me rest."
"Not until I get an answer!" There was none. "Elizabeth! Something's haunting you. I know. I've heard you wake up night after night. And the whole year witnessed that little scene in Charms this morning. What's going on?"
Elizabeth stopped walking and faced her friend, tears spilling over her pale cheeks. "I don't know." Although she had an idea. Looking through an old photo album that afternoon after Charms, the reason she had skipped her remaining classes, she had found a picture of the girl from her dreams. It was her Aunt Samantha. She hadn't been too surprised, but the meaning of the dreams still puzzled her. Why was she seeing a relative she had never met and knew so little about? But she didn't share her concerns, although it hurt to keep secrets from Hermione.
"Don't worry about me," she whispered. "I'll be fine soon."
Hermione had heard that line before. She hadn't believed it then, and she didn't believe it now. But it was obvious Elizabeth needed rest, so she let her slip off to the dormitories in silence, and then turned to spend her Friday night playing a game of Exploding Snap with Ginny.
*~*~*
"Finally the weekend!" Sirius exclaimed brightly late Friday night.
"That's the fifth time you've said that since supper." Lily gave Sirius an annoyed look.
The boy jumped onto a chair, spread his arms wide, and cried innocently, "But Lily! That means we have no classes tomorrow!"
Lily rolled her eyes. "Come on, Sam," she said, motioning towards the girls' dormitory, "I can't handle that kid's enthusiasm when I'm tired."
Samantha was busy trying to teach Remus an advanced charm. "Just a minute, Lil."
"Yeah, Lily, what's the hurry?" Sirius brandished a hand around him theatrically. "We have the common room all to ourselves and you want to leave? I suggest a game of Giant Exploding Snap!"
James looked up from his game of wizard chess with Peter (who was watching in dismay as his knight was smashed into the board). "And wake up the entire House, Sirius?"
"Well, what else can we do?" Sirius jumped off the chair and landed with a soft plop in front of the fire.
Lily paused at the top of the stairs to her dormitory, her look of fatigue replaced by one of sudden inspiration. A second later she was back in the common room. "I know a game!" she exclaimed. She snatched up Samantha and Remus' wands, pushed aside the chess game ("Lily! I was winning!" cried James), and pulled her five classmates into a half-circle around the glowing fire. She stood up in the middle, and clearing her throat, announced, "It's time to discover what kind of witches and wizards we have here – brave, weak, confident, honest – to see if some of us are just using the talents of others to our own advantage . . ."
"You're pushing it, Lily," Samantha muttered in an undertone. Lily winked at her.
" . . . or whether we have true friends among us."
"And how do you propose we do that?" James asked doubtfully. He wondered what had gotten into her. It was not like Lily to want anything to do with Sirius or himself.
"Why, with a game of truth or dare, of course!"
James snorted. He was still bitter over being interrupted during his first time beating Peter at chess all week. "What are you talking about, Evans?"
Lily was unfazed by James' skepticism, and she cheerfully explained the rules to her friends that had never heard of this odd-sounding Muggle game. By the time she had finished, James had gone white. "I don't think that's such a good idea . . ."
"Why? Have something to hide, Potter?" Lily grinned at him, and James blushed.
"No! Absolutely not!"
"Well, then," Lily continued, "who's going to play?"
There was an uneasy silence, in which the four boys exchanged nervous glances, and Samantha glared at Lily, knowing her true intention was to prove Sirius was only being polite to her to get help with his homework.
"I will," Sirius piped up suddenly.
Lily smiled, and Samantha saw how pleased she was that her plan was working. "Good, I'll start with you then, Sirius," she said. "Truth or dare?"
Sirius gave a mischievous grin before shocking everyone by replying, "Truth."
Lily was ecstatic, she couldn't have asked for better. She looked to her victim, whose face had gone unexpectedly solemn, as if he was preparing for some arduous task. Samantha closed her eyes, trying to remember the spell that would allow her to mute Lily's voice from embarrassing her if necessary. But as the question was asked, she felt a sudden desire to hear the response. "Why have you been so nice to Samantha lately? Do you truly want to be her friend, or are you just using her?"
Sirius' face showed no surprise. In fact, he seemed to be expecting something along these lines. "To be honest, my main goal was never to become friends. I . . ." he paused, looking at Lily. "Do I have to tell you, or can I speak directly to Samantha?"
The question startled Lily, who was still somewhat taken aback by how calmly Sirius was responding, and by how, well, serious, he was acting. She had expected him to be upset to discover they knew of his dishonest intentions. "What?" she asked. "Oh, sure . . . I suppose you can. Go ahead."
He turned to face Samantha, and started again. "I never meant to become friends with you. I mean, certainly I like being friends with – you would consider us friends, right? And it's good to be friends, too, but that wasn't the main goal. Something good along the way, I can always use friends, but . . ." Sirius trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed. He took a deep breath. "What I mean to say is . . . Samantha, I really like you. I'm sorry if the way I've been acting has made you think I'm trying to use you, because really, well, I was really just hoping we could . . . you know, be . . . more than friends."
No one, not even Samantha, who had had such faith in Sirius all along, had expected this. His five companions sat staring at him open-mouthed. In the midst of their discomfort, Sirius began to feel more at ease again. "It's my turn now, right?" he asked with earnestness. It took awhile for Lily to acknowledge his question, and even then she could only nod dumbly. "Samantha," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Truth or dare."
Samantha found her voice with difficulty. "Truth," she whispered.
"Would you like to go on a date with me in Hogsmeade next Saturday?"
She let out a sigh of relief – he wasn't going to force her to reveal her feelings for him quite yet. "I'd love to," she replied. The fire had died, but her smile was enough to light up the room.
*~*~*
It was the dead of night and Elizabeth lay wrapped peacefully in her bed. That is, until a dull click, clack, click, clack, began echoing around her brain. In her subconscious state, Elizabeth pushed at the dream. Go away, she thought at it, leave me alone. But all too soon she could see that wide, deserted street once again in her mind's eye. And there was Samantha, running, always running. Click, clack, click, clack, went her shoes on the old cobblestones. Elizabeth hated this dream. She hated the dark, the fear hidden in it, and the desperation pulsing through the young woman's body. It was even more disturbing now that she knew who the young woman was. She tried forcing herself to wake up, but it was as if the dream wouldn't allow her. As if it needed to be seen.
Click, clack, click, clack. It replayed itself, the same as ever. Samantha stiffened, then ran faster. The streetlight on the corner lit her face briefly and a tear trickled down her cheek. And still her feet fled down the street. Click, clack, click, clack. But now Elizabeth saw that Samantha carried something in her arms. A bundle. A baby. She cradled it to her chest with the utmost gentleness, despite the fear evident in her every feature. The baby whimpered, and Samantha hummed a soothing lullaby as she ran, her voice quavering only every once in a while.
Suddenly Samantha stopped. She appeared to see something, or someone, standing directly before her. Whatever it was, it filled Samantha with the utmost dread, but Elizabeth couldn't make it out in the dream. The baby in the young woman's arms began to cry, and she bent down, her soft hair gently brushing over the child's forehead. "Hush, Lizzy," she whispered. "Nothing can harm you." The baby looked up at her mother with questioning eyes. Samantha kissed her lightly. "I love you," she continued. "Elizabeth, sweetie, I love you."
The peaceful scene of mother and daughter shattered in an instant. A flash, and the baby lay on the ground, nestled among the cold cobblestones. Samantha hovered before her, her arms seemingly pinned behind her. Some force was holding her back. The woman kicked and screamed and fought with all her might, but she couldn't free herself. "Elizabeth!" her voice shattered the night, high and shrill. "Elizabeth! I love you, sweetie, I love you!" She repeated the last line over and over as the force pulled her further and further away. "I love you, Elizabeth! I love you!" The scream was so desperate and heartbreaking that Elizabeth, curled in her bed, dreaming, began to miss the clicking of shoes. Any sound was better than this tragic cry.
The street faded, and all Elizabeth could see were the woman and her baby. The baby crying, the woman reaching, reaching, but only getting farther away. "Elizabeth!" she cried. "Elizabeth! Elizabeth!"
Elizabeth shot up in bed for what seemed like the hundredth time, finally breaking free from the dream. She was shaking, and her head was still pounding with the woman's shrieks. Samantha's shrieks. For her baby. For Elizabeth. For her.
She began to cry, starting with a few silent tears, and breaking way into racking sobs.
Hermione was at her side instantly. Good old Hermione. Always here for me, the best friend I could have. And yet I pull away from her. Tears poured from Elizabeth's eyes as she buried her face in Hermione's shoulder. "What's wrong?" Hermione trembled. "What did you see?"
I have to tell her, Elizabeth thought. She deserves to know after all she's done for me. But she couldn't bring herself to do it, because she wasn't exactly sure what the dream meant herself. Only one detail was clear, only one truth evident. And the implications of that truth were too much for Elizabeth. She couldn't speak it aloud.
She failed to understand most of the dream, but the dream hadn't failed in delivering its principle message: Samantha Satine was her mother.
To my reviewers:
Balizabeth: That is the cutest story behind a penname I've yet heard. I just love little kids. I love the name Elizabeth, too. It's my middle name and the name I always used to use when my cousins & I played princesses when we were little :) And thank you so much for the "glowing review". It caused a glowing smile on the face of the author ^_^
Bessyboo: Wow, I'm honored you re-read the whole thing, and I'm glad you like Samantha so much. I had a lot of fun with her character this chapter. Although it's rather sad writing some of those dream sequences. I agree, they can be rather creepy. Don't worry, you'll eventually find out how she really died. And thanks again for your enthusiasm ^_^
Karma50: I see your writer's block has partially cured, as you posted another chapter today. I wish you further luck in getting rid of it. Writer's block can be a pain. My main problem is with time, though – there's never enough! But what am I talking about, I just wrote an entire chapter in a day . . . Anyway, no Ron in this chapter, but plenty of Sirius. I hope that's good enough :)
Pinefresh: Okay, first of all, this fic will never be Ron/Elizabeth. Or Harry/Elizabeth, for that matter. I'm right with you – Ron belongs to Hermione and Harry is Ginny's. Secondly, how could anyone be better than Harry at Quidditch? Nope, not even Elizabeth will do that. So don't worry ^_^ Thanks for coming and reading this whole thing, I really appreciate it. And I'm glad you like it :)
Anne K. Letoile: *smiles* Thanks for the long review. I loved reading it. I'd write a page long response if I weren't so tired ^_^ You can be impressed with my ability to write long chapters, and I'll be impressed with your ability to not procrastinate. I'm a huge procrastinator, although you wouldn't believe it if you'd just met me 'cuz I'm also a perfectionist. Awful combination. I'm trying with all my might to break it.
I've never heard of Newsies, or else I would have read some of your other fics as I really like your writing style. *smiles again* I had a great time in New York, thank you. I love that city, too, and can understand perfectly why you want to live there when you're older. I'm leaning towards Rome, myself. That's my other favorite big city. *sigh* Dare to dream, Rose . . .
Ra-chan: Yes, you were first, as usual. My biggest supporter ^_^ (Along with you, Blue Umbrella, but I've already responded to your review in an e-mail). Did you review as you read? *smiles* I love that. It's fun reading your reviews since you already know what's going to happen. Don't tell Elizabeth & Katy they're Mary-Sues. They won't kill you, but I can picture the vase-throwing incident all over again. Are you doing all right stuck out in no man's land? I'll drop you an e-mail as soon as I have the time. And I might have something interesting to tell you . . .