The Power of Dance
Chapter 3 Waterfall
(A/N:: Once again not mine.but if JKR wanted to retire early and give me Bill, Charlie, and a mute Draco to play with I wouldn't object.)
My stood in the bathroom in her underwear, blushing sparkling talc over her chest and neck. She picked up a tube of liquid liner, the blue emphasizing the amber of her eyes. She grabbed her hair and twisted it into a knot resting loosely on the top of her head. She stabbed a pair of golden chopsticks through the bun, and waved her wand, fixing the knot firmly in place without having to resort to stiff and sticky muggle hair products. She pulled a few tendrils down and watched as they slowly curled into barrel curls framing her face. After adding a light layer of pale blue to her full lips, she pulled on a pair of vinyl pants that tightly hugged her hips. Then she carefully pulled on a shimmery blue top. The blue fabric looked like a glittering wave, a bikini-cut halter dropping underneath her shoulder blades, a layer of sheer shimmer blue mesh hung from the halter to My's hips. The sheer fabric covered only to tease and as My brush more talc over her flat stomach she knew what she look like. She knew that if the Hermione of only six months ago had seen her now there would be hell to pay with the person that was occupying her body.
My didn't care.
Couldn't care.
She needed the dance.
She needed it more than ever now. Needed it more than food or sleep. She needed the beat, the pulse, and the music. The best spinners went to the best clubs. The best clubs had the most strident dress codes, Armani for guys and classy slut for the girls. She could handle that. My needed to dance, she needed to regain the equilibrium of the last month. Her balance was off, her emotions were too high. The morning meeting with Drake upset her carefully constructed barriers. Something about him screamed familiarity, and yet My had no idea who he was, and she wasn't sure if she really wanted to be sure. Shaking her head, trying to escape the knowing glare of a pair of grey eyes that haunted her mind. My shoved her ID and a wad of cash into the hidden pocket on the inside of her pants. She slipped comfortable but dressy shoes on her feet and left the bathroom, her heart rate increasing, seeing that the sun had well and truly set. The thoughts were worse at night. That was when it happened; it began at sunset with the anger, and continued on into the night with the screams and the pleas for mercy. Then after the begging and the tears there was the silence. The silence was the worst, except for a single cry, a cry that haunted her.
My pressed her temples tightly. Lucius Malfoy's dying cries for his son echoed through her mind. She had to leave before the voices got louder, before they overwhelmed her; she had to escape the silence. She stepped out into the living room and saw Mandy and Court in sweats in front of the TV, a girly romance play out on the screen. She just stared at them, something must be going on, normally they are getting ready to go out by now. Shrugging off the thought as paranoia, she shoved her pass card into the hidden pocket and walked to the front door.
"My," Court called to her back. "We have to talk when you get back." My nodded curtly and looked away she walked out the door.
In the hall she called over her shoulder, "I am going to Waterfall, if I don't come back don't bother to call anyone, I know that you won't care." With that she continued down the hall, not missing Mandy giggle a fake girlish laugh clearly designed to wound and heard her stage whisper. "She is so weird. I can't believe that she had to come and stay with us."
*** The beat was strong at Waterfall. The blue lights flashed and the music flowed trough her. My stood in the middle of the floor, all on her own, dancing, trying to outdistance the voices that followed her. She writhed and twisted, shifted and moved the perfect compliment to the music. Here, just as at pulse, no one tried to join her. Somehow every man and even some of the women knew that they couldn't match her connection to the music, and trying to feel some of her heat would only destroy the magic she seemed to hold.
For almost two hours she danced. The thoughts were driven away and all that was left was the music and a vague feeling of incompleteness. She danced, feeling almost cheated. After Pulse something felt off. She as able to drive away the thoughts, but it was an empty victory. She wanted to dance and drown in a pair of silver pools. Her mind sighed as her body danced. She knew that the odds of Drake finding her were slim to none, but still there was a place deep in her heart that wanted him to find her.
The song shifted smoothly to the next set. A heavy bass based rap mix reverberated through her body and helped to bury the old memories and new strange desires deeper in her psyche. Alone on the floor My shifted and moved, dancing with her body pressed against an invisible partner. She rolled and thrusted, rotated her hips, an unconscious cry for a partner. The heavy sex-driven music continued through the night, leaving My to dance out her frustrations alone.
Suddenly she felt warmth spread along her back, large, strong hands gripped her hips and my shifted her rhythm in order for their bodies to move together. She reached up behind her and wove her fingers through loose stands of soft hair. She danced against his warmth, pushing back against him, the warmth of his hips cradling her butt, their legs intertwined. In time with the beat of the song, My dropped to the floor in a full body roll and turned, eyes closed against the face of her partner. Straddling his leg she pulled her body close to his, Once again moving together alone with the music.
As the set shifted again My disentangled herself from her partners body. She knew who he was. She could feel it in their dance, in the way their bodies moved together. My felt his arms tighten around her waist, pulling her close, forcing her to stop the dance. A warm burst of breathe caressed her ear and a low voice tickled it.
"I told you that I would find you." She looked up into his grey eyes and smiled The emptiness in her eyes took on a hint of bitter happiness.
"That is what you said; I just didn't think that you could." Drake took her chin in his hand and stared into golden eyes. Mind prickling, familiar golden eyes.
"Always My. Always." He decreased his grip on her waist a little and began to move with the music. He wrapped her body in a competitive dance, an attempt to see who would dominate.
My let all of her thoughts drop away as Drake began the dance. She ignored the familiar twinge in the pit of her stomach at the well-known conceit and allowed the dance to swallow her. Allowed the sensual combat between their bodies. As Drake and My danced, they returned to that place where all they felt was the music and the feeling of long forgotten completeness, as their hearts throbbed together in time. Where the crowds faded to ghosts and the music was all powerful, all consuming. In the grasp of the music, they stopped being Drake and My, Granger and Malfoy. They had become a single body, journey, destination and soul.
The space around the dancers cleared, the aura of completeness that surrounded the couple was too strong. To other patrons they were two flames, a light and dark flame, entwined together moving with the beat. Jealous eyes ate the couple alive, the singles searching for a mate, or hook-up buddy, envied the fact they found each other. Couples, jealous of the completeness of Drake and My, wished to steal just a fraction of it, and infuse it into their own relationship. In a dark corner, two pairs of eyes watched the dancers. One watched with concern, the other with careful consideration and a glimmer of hope. Watching the dancers for a moment more, the two strangely dressed older people left the club.
***
Standing on the street corner, passersby didn't even notice the man with waist length bread, and a stiff uptight woman wearing robes.
"Oh Albus," the woman began, concern evident on her face. "I can't, WE can't leave her here, she has been through so much, been to hell and back. She should be at Hogwarts. Safe. In a place where we can find a way to stop the process." The man shook his head in sadness.
"No Minerva, the course must be maintained. The wizard world knows what she is. They have made her more famous than Mr. Potter. The only thing that might save her has already found her. They just don't know it yet. You could see the aura."
"But him, their past, it--"
"No, it will take place. Maybe for the first time a phoenix will find its soul mate and truly rise from the ashes." He looked back in to the club as if to see the two young people dancing together trying to burn away the shadows. "I love her too. I cannot bear the idea she will be gone, that she will not become the Minister of Magic or the next headmistress. I also know him. He wants her, and what he wants he gets and keeps, forever."
Minerva muttered unhappily, "That's what I am afraid of." The man's blue eyes twinkled.
"Let's return, remind me to send them a letter about school. Oh, and to inform Misters Potter and Weasly of Hermione's well being. I know they have been frantic." Minerva sighed deeply, throwing a final agonized glance at her favorite student before apperating away with her long time friend and boss.
***
Drake and My danced away their troubles until the music cut off. Until the bar called last call and the floors emptied.
My turned to leave the lack of the bass pushed at her balance that she had danced all night to obtain. Once again a warm hand encircled her wrist.
"Do you have to leave?" Drake's eyes were shuttered, hiding the emotions that plagued him.
My smiled up into his face. A real smile, a smile that lit her up in side, and warmed the emptiness that had consumed her since the spring. She placed a hand on his cheek, and pushed a sweaty lock of platinum hair away from his eyes. Without consciously knowing what she was doing, My placed her hand on his cheek. Rising up onto her toes she pressed her lips to his, amazed by their softness and the strength that lay dormant below the surface. Forcing her self to break away, she wrenched her arm from his grasp. To soften her actions, she smiled again, lost herself in his eyes.
"I am out every night. Find me."
She turned and began to walk away, while her order reverberated through his brain. Somehow her knew that he would. He would find this mystery woman, this mystery woman that controlled his mind, actions and feelings. This woman that he loved.
As she walked out of the club and went to hail a cab Draco watched, puzzling out the thoughts that had taken over his brain. Did he really love a muggle? A muggle he met three times and spoke to once? Was it possible for a Malfy to fall in love with a "filthy muggle," to pollute the family bloodline? The family purity? Drake looked down at his pale hand, and could see the faint blue tinge of vein. Would a Malfoy bring a Muggle into the bloodline? Looking at the empty doorway, still able to feel her body against his hips, remembering the way her wanted to possess and protect her, Drake knew the answer was yes. He knew the answer was yes to all of the questions. He loved her, he wanted her, and he WOULD have her. He would bring her to the wizard world as his wife. A Malfoy got only the best. My was the best.
***
My returned to the apartment, after getting out and paying the cabbie, she stared up at the forbidding building. Her thoughts were busy, the mind numbing calm that she normally obtained was nowhere to be seen. For the first time in months however, she didn't mind thinking. Because, for the first time she wasn't thinking about that night, or about what she was, or about her fate. Instead,
She was consumed by a pair of silver eyes.
A pair of soft lips.
A strong body that fitted and challenged her.
A feeling that she found her match in a platinum haired, gray eyed man with intelligence burning in his expression. A man that could find her anywhere, make her feel safe. A man that she could rely on, a man she could love.
Did love.
With her mind wrapped around trying to workout her feelings for Drake, she didn't notice the man drunkenly creeping up behind her. A man that followed her cab from the club. A man that wanted to feel the completeness that she had with another. He wanted to feel her, all of her inside and out. He rushed forward and grabbed her, pulling her into the ally, the doorman never even seeing her. The man pressed her against the wall and pressed himself to her, his bulky muscles just served to remind her of Drake.
"Oh you like that you little cocktease. You flirt. You bitch. I knew you would like it rough. You dirty whore. You deserve this." As she spoke his hands roamed around her body. My felt sick, his torments were so close to the ones that Luscius sent at her as he raised his wand. All she wanted to do was to disappear. Then she felt a long sticky trail against her face. He licked her, she could feel his hand creeping up her stomach to her chest, grapping and squeezing her breast like she was a cow to be milked. When his hand left her breast to stroke her hair and face My's revulsion left, and all that she felt was anger. Pure clean fury.
"Get off of me you sick fuck." My's voice cracked with the flames of her anger. A burning blaze that wanted nothing more than to burn the offender to ash. She put her hand against his chest and pushed, expelling all of her disgust, rage, and fear in one blow.
The man flew.
His feet lifted off the ground and he flew across the alleyway to the ground landing between the huge oil drums used as trashcans. She looked down at him with contempt. The pathetic man in front of My moaned. On his chest, a small handprint was burned into his flesh, her hand forever seared into his body. The tee-shirt let off tendrils of smoke around where her hand had burned through. She glared at the cowering man in front of her, who was gibbering in fear and pain at the girl standing in front of him.
"Never touch me. Never touch any unwilling person ever." She spoke with a backup of flames, a choir of demons echoing her words. "In fact if I ever see you in any club, anywhere near me, I will find you, and I WILL kill you. You would not be my first." She turned and walked away from the weeping man. Unknown to her, as My walked away, the oil drums burst into flame. An inferno designed to trap and tangle. Ensnaring the man in the ally, hopefully forever.
My walked from the ally, around the corner, and into the building, her balance broken, her emotions on edge and all the barriers that she used to keep her sane were broken. She walked past the front desk and up to the stairs; silent unknown tears fell down her face in a stream. She went up the flights and entered into the apartment in time to see the last star twinkle and fade from sight as the sun first started to rise.
My felt her body quake; it was too much. She needed to sleep, to heal, to dance, and to rebuild the walls it had taken her all summer to build. The scene with the man in the ally was to close, the blazing rage, the insults, and finally the fire. It was almost a repeat of that night, if he had actually hurt her, or tried to attack Drake, or a friend, My knew he would have died. He would have been put to flames like everyone else in the cavern that night. As her thoughts compared the awful nights, My's body had enough. Her stomach rebelled and emptied its contents into the sink in the kitchen. Her nerves became woolly, and the tears she didn't even notice soaked through her light top. She walked towards her closet and yanked off the provocative clothes. Grabbing a random set, Hermione dressed herself shakily in a huge pair of flannel pajamas. Reaching farther back, to the trunk where here magical items were kept, My retrieved a vial of heavy black liquid. She straightened and headed towards the cot, contemplating her last vial of Dreamless Sleep potion. The last of a gift freely given by Snape.
Despite the rank odor and foul taste, My downed the potion in one shot, flinging the contents back like a practiced tequila shooter. As darkness tinged the edges of her vision, My lay down to read a brief note in Courtney's neat handwriting.
My---
I am getting married.
We are going to live in this apartment.
Mandy, Eric, and I want you out by the first of September.
Court My closed her eyes, the letter fluttered down to the carpet. Her last thought filled with broken half wishes and unpleasant revelations.
I guess I have to return to Hogwarts now.
Chapter 3 Waterfall
(A/N:: Once again not mine.but if JKR wanted to retire early and give me Bill, Charlie, and a mute Draco to play with I wouldn't object.)
My stood in the bathroom in her underwear, blushing sparkling talc over her chest and neck. She picked up a tube of liquid liner, the blue emphasizing the amber of her eyes. She grabbed her hair and twisted it into a knot resting loosely on the top of her head. She stabbed a pair of golden chopsticks through the bun, and waved her wand, fixing the knot firmly in place without having to resort to stiff and sticky muggle hair products. She pulled a few tendrils down and watched as they slowly curled into barrel curls framing her face. After adding a light layer of pale blue to her full lips, she pulled on a pair of vinyl pants that tightly hugged her hips. Then she carefully pulled on a shimmery blue top. The blue fabric looked like a glittering wave, a bikini-cut halter dropping underneath her shoulder blades, a layer of sheer shimmer blue mesh hung from the halter to My's hips. The sheer fabric covered only to tease and as My brush more talc over her flat stomach she knew what she look like. She knew that if the Hermione of only six months ago had seen her now there would be hell to pay with the person that was occupying her body.
My didn't care.
Couldn't care.
She needed the dance.
She needed it more than ever now. Needed it more than food or sleep. She needed the beat, the pulse, and the music. The best spinners went to the best clubs. The best clubs had the most strident dress codes, Armani for guys and classy slut for the girls. She could handle that. My needed to dance, she needed to regain the equilibrium of the last month. Her balance was off, her emotions were too high. The morning meeting with Drake upset her carefully constructed barriers. Something about him screamed familiarity, and yet My had no idea who he was, and she wasn't sure if she really wanted to be sure. Shaking her head, trying to escape the knowing glare of a pair of grey eyes that haunted her mind. My shoved her ID and a wad of cash into the hidden pocket on the inside of her pants. She slipped comfortable but dressy shoes on her feet and left the bathroom, her heart rate increasing, seeing that the sun had well and truly set. The thoughts were worse at night. That was when it happened; it began at sunset with the anger, and continued on into the night with the screams and the pleas for mercy. Then after the begging and the tears there was the silence. The silence was the worst, except for a single cry, a cry that haunted her.
My pressed her temples tightly. Lucius Malfoy's dying cries for his son echoed through her mind. She had to leave before the voices got louder, before they overwhelmed her; she had to escape the silence. She stepped out into the living room and saw Mandy and Court in sweats in front of the TV, a girly romance play out on the screen. She just stared at them, something must be going on, normally they are getting ready to go out by now. Shrugging off the thought as paranoia, she shoved her pass card into the hidden pocket and walked to the front door.
"My," Court called to her back. "We have to talk when you get back." My nodded curtly and looked away she walked out the door.
In the hall she called over her shoulder, "I am going to Waterfall, if I don't come back don't bother to call anyone, I know that you won't care." With that she continued down the hall, not missing Mandy giggle a fake girlish laugh clearly designed to wound and heard her stage whisper. "She is so weird. I can't believe that she had to come and stay with us."
*** The beat was strong at Waterfall. The blue lights flashed and the music flowed trough her. My stood in the middle of the floor, all on her own, dancing, trying to outdistance the voices that followed her. She writhed and twisted, shifted and moved the perfect compliment to the music. Here, just as at pulse, no one tried to join her. Somehow every man and even some of the women knew that they couldn't match her connection to the music, and trying to feel some of her heat would only destroy the magic she seemed to hold.
For almost two hours she danced. The thoughts were driven away and all that was left was the music and a vague feeling of incompleteness. She danced, feeling almost cheated. After Pulse something felt off. She as able to drive away the thoughts, but it was an empty victory. She wanted to dance and drown in a pair of silver pools. Her mind sighed as her body danced. She knew that the odds of Drake finding her were slim to none, but still there was a place deep in her heart that wanted him to find her.
The song shifted smoothly to the next set. A heavy bass based rap mix reverberated through her body and helped to bury the old memories and new strange desires deeper in her psyche. Alone on the floor My shifted and moved, dancing with her body pressed against an invisible partner. She rolled and thrusted, rotated her hips, an unconscious cry for a partner. The heavy sex-driven music continued through the night, leaving My to dance out her frustrations alone.
Suddenly she felt warmth spread along her back, large, strong hands gripped her hips and my shifted her rhythm in order for their bodies to move together. She reached up behind her and wove her fingers through loose stands of soft hair. She danced against his warmth, pushing back against him, the warmth of his hips cradling her butt, their legs intertwined. In time with the beat of the song, My dropped to the floor in a full body roll and turned, eyes closed against the face of her partner. Straddling his leg she pulled her body close to his, Once again moving together alone with the music.
As the set shifted again My disentangled herself from her partners body. She knew who he was. She could feel it in their dance, in the way their bodies moved together. My felt his arms tighten around her waist, pulling her close, forcing her to stop the dance. A warm burst of breathe caressed her ear and a low voice tickled it.
"I told you that I would find you." She looked up into his grey eyes and smiled The emptiness in her eyes took on a hint of bitter happiness.
"That is what you said; I just didn't think that you could." Drake took her chin in his hand and stared into golden eyes. Mind prickling, familiar golden eyes.
"Always My. Always." He decreased his grip on her waist a little and began to move with the music. He wrapped her body in a competitive dance, an attempt to see who would dominate.
My let all of her thoughts drop away as Drake began the dance. She ignored the familiar twinge in the pit of her stomach at the well-known conceit and allowed the dance to swallow her. Allowed the sensual combat between their bodies. As Drake and My danced, they returned to that place where all they felt was the music and the feeling of long forgotten completeness, as their hearts throbbed together in time. Where the crowds faded to ghosts and the music was all powerful, all consuming. In the grasp of the music, they stopped being Drake and My, Granger and Malfoy. They had become a single body, journey, destination and soul.
The space around the dancers cleared, the aura of completeness that surrounded the couple was too strong. To other patrons they were two flames, a light and dark flame, entwined together moving with the beat. Jealous eyes ate the couple alive, the singles searching for a mate, or hook-up buddy, envied the fact they found each other. Couples, jealous of the completeness of Drake and My, wished to steal just a fraction of it, and infuse it into their own relationship. In a dark corner, two pairs of eyes watched the dancers. One watched with concern, the other with careful consideration and a glimmer of hope. Watching the dancers for a moment more, the two strangely dressed older people left the club.
***
Standing on the street corner, passersby didn't even notice the man with waist length bread, and a stiff uptight woman wearing robes.
"Oh Albus," the woman began, concern evident on her face. "I can't, WE can't leave her here, she has been through so much, been to hell and back. She should be at Hogwarts. Safe. In a place where we can find a way to stop the process." The man shook his head in sadness.
"No Minerva, the course must be maintained. The wizard world knows what she is. They have made her more famous than Mr. Potter. The only thing that might save her has already found her. They just don't know it yet. You could see the aura."
"But him, their past, it--"
"No, it will take place. Maybe for the first time a phoenix will find its soul mate and truly rise from the ashes." He looked back in to the club as if to see the two young people dancing together trying to burn away the shadows. "I love her too. I cannot bear the idea she will be gone, that she will not become the Minister of Magic or the next headmistress. I also know him. He wants her, and what he wants he gets and keeps, forever."
Minerva muttered unhappily, "That's what I am afraid of." The man's blue eyes twinkled.
"Let's return, remind me to send them a letter about school. Oh, and to inform Misters Potter and Weasly of Hermione's well being. I know they have been frantic." Minerva sighed deeply, throwing a final agonized glance at her favorite student before apperating away with her long time friend and boss.
***
Drake and My danced away their troubles until the music cut off. Until the bar called last call and the floors emptied.
My turned to leave the lack of the bass pushed at her balance that she had danced all night to obtain. Once again a warm hand encircled her wrist.
"Do you have to leave?" Drake's eyes were shuttered, hiding the emotions that plagued him.
My smiled up into his face. A real smile, a smile that lit her up in side, and warmed the emptiness that had consumed her since the spring. She placed a hand on his cheek, and pushed a sweaty lock of platinum hair away from his eyes. Without consciously knowing what she was doing, My placed her hand on his cheek. Rising up onto her toes she pressed her lips to his, amazed by their softness and the strength that lay dormant below the surface. Forcing her self to break away, she wrenched her arm from his grasp. To soften her actions, she smiled again, lost herself in his eyes.
"I am out every night. Find me."
She turned and began to walk away, while her order reverberated through his brain. Somehow her knew that he would. He would find this mystery woman, this mystery woman that controlled his mind, actions and feelings. This woman that he loved.
As she walked out of the club and went to hail a cab Draco watched, puzzling out the thoughts that had taken over his brain. Did he really love a muggle? A muggle he met three times and spoke to once? Was it possible for a Malfy to fall in love with a "filthy muggle," to pollute the family bloodline? The family purity? Drake looked down at his pale hand, and could see the faint blue tinge of vein. Would a Malfoy bring a Muggle into the bloodline? Looking at the empty doorway, still able to feel her body against his hips, remembering the way her wanted to possess and protect her, Drake knew the answer was yes. He knew the answer was yes to all of the questions. He loved her, he wanted her, and he WOULD have her. He would bring her to the wizard world as his wife. A Malfoy got only the best. My was the best.
***
My returned to the apartment, after getting out and paying the cabbie, she stared up at the forbidding building. Her thoughts were busy, the mind numbing calm that she normally obtained was nowhere to be seen. For the first time in months however, she didn't mind thinking. Because, for the first time she wasn't thinking about that night, or about what she was, or about her fate. Instead,
She was consumed by a pair of silver eyes.
A pair of soft lips.
A strong body that fitted and challenged her.
A feeling that she found her match in a platinum haired, gray eyed man with intelligence burning in his expression. A man that could find her anywhere, make her feel safe. A man that she could rely on, a man she could love.
Did love.
With her mind wrapped around trying to workout her feelings for Drake, she didn't notice the man drunkenly creeping up behind her. A man that followed her cab from the club. A man that wanted to feel the completeness that she had with another. He wanted to feel her, all of her inside and out. He rushed forward and grabbed her, pulling her into the ally, the doorman never even seeing her. The man pressed her against the wall and pressed himself to her, his bulky muscles just served to remind her of Drake.
"Oh you like that you little cocktease. You flirt. You bitch. I knew you would like it rough. You dirty whore. You deserve this." As she spoke his hands roamed around her body. My felt sick, his torments were so close to the ones that Luscius sent at her as he raised his wand. All she wanted to do was to disappear. Then she felt a long sticky trail against her face. He licked her, she could feel his hand creeping up her stomach to her chest, grapping and squeezing her breast like she was a cow to be milked. When his hand left her breast to stroke her hair and face My's revulsion left, and all that she felt was anger. Pure clean fury.
"Get off of me you sick fuck." My's voice cracked with the flames of her anger. A burning blaze that wanted nothing more than to burn the offender to ash. She put her hand against his chest and pushed, expelling all of her disgust, rage, and fear in one blow.
The man flew.
His feet lifted off the ground and he flew across the alleyway to the ground landing between the huge oil drums used as trashcans. She looked down at him with contempt. The pathetic man in front of My moaned. On his chest, a small handprint was burned into his flesh, her hand forever seared into his body. The tee-shirt let off tendrils of smoke around where her hand had burned through. She glared at the cowering man in front of her, who was gibbering in fear and pain at the girl standing in front of him.
"Never touch me. Never touch any unwilling person ever." She spoke with a backup of flames, a choir of demons echoing her words. "In fact if I ever see you in any club, anywhere near me, I will find you, and I WILL kill you. You would not be my first." She turned and walked away from the weeping man. Unknown to her, as My walked away, the oil drums burst into flame. An inferno designed to trap and tangle. Ensnaring the man in the ally, hopefully forever.
My walked from the ally, around the corner, and into the building, her balance broken, her emotions on edge and all the barriers that she used to keep her sane were broken. She walked past the front desk and up to the stairs; silent unknown tears fell down her face in a stream. She went up the flights and entered into the apartment in time to see the last star twinkle and fade from sight as the sun first started to rise.
My felt her body quake; it was too much. She needed to sleep, to heal, to dance, and to rebuild the walls it had taken her all summer to build. The scene with the man in the ally was to close, the blazing rage, the insults, and finally the fire. It was almost a repeat of that night, if he had actually hurt her, or tried to attack Drake, or a friend, My knew he would have died. He would have been put to flames like everyone else in the cavern that night. As her thoughts compared the awful nights, My's body had enough. Her stomach rebelled and emptied its contents into the sink in the kitchen. Her nerves became woolly, and the tears she didn't even notice soaked through her light top. She walked towards her closet and yanked off the provocative clothes. Grabbing a random set, Hermione dressed herself shakily in a huge pair of flannel pajamas. Reaching farther back, to the trunk where here magical items were kept, My retrieved a vial of heavy black liquid. She straightened and headed towards the cot, contemplating her last vial of Dreamless Sleep potion. The last of a gift freely given by Snape.
Despite the rank odor and foul taste, My downed the potion in one shot, flinging the contents back like a practiced tequila shooter. As darkness tinged the edges of her vision, My lay down to read a brief note in Courtney's neat handwriting.
My---
I am getting married.
We are going to live in this apartment.
Mandy, Eric, and I want you out by the first of September.
Court My closed her eyes, the letter fluttered down to the carpet. Her last thought filled with broken half wishes and unpleasant revelations.
I guess I have to return to Hogwarts now.
