Chapter 7 - If everything could ever feel this real forever (If anything could ever be this good again)

He gripped his sword tight as he stepped through the cold fog.

A single flame stood in the room, silhouetting the imposing man that held it. He approached the fire with cautious steps, shield raised and body ready to dodge at any moment.

The man stood frozen to his spot, not moving a single inch, not breathing, the flame in his sword the only thing that seemed alive.

A few feet from the statue and he paused, waiting for his opponent to strike.

Nothing came.

In spite of his instincts, he lowered his shield slightly. His unobstructed vision now made clear the sad painting in front of him.

The few parts of his body uncovered were wiry and bony, grey burning skin covering it. Ashes seemed to drop from his decaying armor, cinders making the tip of his waist cape alight.

His helm covered his head entirely, and yet his eyes were entirely vision for their othewordly glowing. They were pained, filled with misery.

They were old.

He let his arms drop, his will suddenly leaving him. A reflection, that is what stood before him. An image of what the fire had taken. Of what it would take.

The old warrior finally moved, rushing to his enemy, blade cleaving through the air, once, twice, as he approached.

The young warrior dodged the slow and weak strikes easily, no fervor in his movements, arms still dropped by his side, no strength left in him to raise them.

Both warriors stopped, one hunched with lack of strength, another with a lack of will. Both exhausted.

They kept gazing at one another, unable to tear their gaze away from the mirror in front of them.

The fire kept burning in spite of it.


His eyes opened abruptly, a tear flowing down his cheek. A shudder passed through his body, from head to toe.

His hair seemed to burn with cinders at the tips, ashes falling like snow from them. A blink and it was gone.

He rubbed tiredly at his face, before gathering the courage to start his day.


"I'm sorry, Mr Winters, I still haven't found anything that could help your situation."

The words came like a punch to his gut, even when they were spoken with pity. It didn't hurt as much as he thought it would. A part of him already knew this wasn't going to be solved easily.

"I understand. Could I ask that you keep looking?" The matron looked slightly affronted at his question, possibly insulted and he assumed she would stop trying to help him.

"Of course! If anything else happens, do not hesitate to come to me." Nathan gave a slight nod, and got up from his chair.

He paused before taking his first step, and turned back to the healer. "Could you give me a dreamless sleep potion? I want to be well rested for the ball tomorrow."

Her mouth opened to say something, before she stopped. The severe look in her face softened, and she rose from her seat, going to a side door after telling him to wait.

Nathan knew she had been about to deny his request. She had probably taken another look at his face and changed her mind.

The circles under his eyes were getting darker by the day. Right now, you could only really notice if you were close enough. But it was still noticeable.

And it was only going to get worse. Not once had he gone a night without seeing one of the eerily detailed dreams. Every day, they got worse and worse. Today he had woken up with a startled jolt, swearing the dream was still going.

And everyday he woke earlier and earlier. At the beginning he didn't notice, with his time asleep being shortened by only minutes. But he was getting more and more tired, his eyes being droopy before some coffee or tea.

He only understood what was happening earlier in the week. When he'd gone down to the common room, and it had been empty.

There was always someone when he appeared in the morning, be it Hermione, the Homework Guy, or some other random person. There was no one there that day.

He'd woken up to the same scene ever since.

His thoughts were broken when he heard heels clicking on stone. Madam Pomphrey was coming back, a vial full of purple in her hand.

She gently handed him the potion, and he carefully put it inside his bag. "Lie on your bed and then drink the whole thing. Otherwise you might fall asleep on the ground."

He raised his head to look at her, and saw a small smile playing on her lips. He felt one grow on his own face. "I'll make sure to do that."

He walked out of the hospital wing after saying goodbye, slowly wandering the castle, as he had nothing to do.

He idly retrieved the potion, bringing it close to his face to examine it. It was a deep purple, almost blue, that seemed to swirl around, with black wisps swimming within it. The color seemed oddly familiar to him, but he chose to not focus on that.

Nathan wondered how the potion worked. Dreams were the way the mind 'absorbed' information during sleep, so they were very important. Did this potion stop the body from entering REM sleep? Or was it just a thoughtless name to the concoction?

He roughly shook his head, trying not to think of how he had this information. He didn't want to deal with this. Not today.

His thoughts wandered back to the potion in his hand.

It was after the term had ended. He'd already finished the homework the professors had been kind enough to assign during the holidays. Even so, he used some of his free time to study more on magic. Classes had been helping, but he was a lot farther behind than he should be.

He'd taken to visiting the library a little everyday, reading books on subjects he found interesting. It was on one of these days he found a book on potions. Written on the cover were the words 'One thousand and one potions, and how to make them.'

The book instantly grabbed his attention, and he ended up bringing it to a nearby table. After five minutes he pulled some parchment and a quill. By the end he had a list of useful potions, the dreamless sleep being one of them.

He'd also made a list of other useful things on other days. Charms, hexes, transfiguration spells. Even some items. Now he just had to learn the spells, or acquire the items.

Nathan had appropriated an abandoned class on one of the more isolated parts of the castle, where he practiced some spells, starting with the silencing charm. He didn't know if what he was doing was against any rules or not, so it would be better if no one heard him.

He would probably head there later, but for now, his feet had taken him outside. The air was very cold, with snow blanketing the ground. Looking at it, he wondered if the lake would be frozen. He headed in its direction.

No one went outside these days, the students preferring their warm common rooms. The only people that went out were probably him, in his morning runs, and that surly looking guy, who he always bumped into around the lake.

Every Time they met, it would be the same thing. He would nod and smile, before blowing past him in the opposite direction.

Until a few days ago. The same thing had happened, but when he'd stopped to take a breather, the man had appeared by his side, looking a lot less winded than Nathan.

"Running in cold is vorse, da?" His rough voice had startled him, both in its deep accent and the fact he hadn't been expecting the man to speak to him.

It took him some moments to understand what he'd said, before he could answer. "Uh, yeah. Kinda feels like it's harder to breathe in." The words came out with uncertainty, but they seemed to amuse the man, as his smile grew.

"It is good training for lungs. I am Viktor Krum." He introduced himself, offering his hand, which Nathan took. His grip was strong, but not enough to hurt. Nathan then noticed his own slack grip, and promptly squeezed back as strongly as he could. It wasn't much. The man did seem amused by his attempt.

"Nathan Winters."

Viktor's smile now showed teeth, and the mirth was clear to see in his eyes. "Then you are where you belong, da?" He said, as his gaze traveled to the area around them.

Nathan followed his gaze, trying to see what the man was looking at. Understanding came all of a sudden, as a soft snort escaped him. "Yeah, I wish!"

Viktor gave a single harsh laugh, before shaking his hand once more. "It is better if you go warm yourself. If you catch cold, you cannot run no more!" With a strong pat on his shoulder, the man walked away, to continue his run.

For some moments Nathan stood, before his brain started working again, and he went back to the castle.

Viktor Krum was a lot more pleasant than he seemed. Maybe it was just because they had a hobby in common. But still, the guy was nice.

Maybe he could ask for some exercising tips. The guy was built like a brick, and was only wearing a tank top. Whatever kind of training made him like that, he wanted some of it.

Coming out of his thoughts, he stopped right in front of the black lake. The water was completely frozen, the ice reflecting the light of the sun harshly back to his eyes, making him squint hard.

Somehow, he could still hear the water in his ears.

Once more he roughly shook his head. Slowly, Nathan approached the lake, until the toes of his boot touched the frozen shore. It would've been a beautiful scenery, if he could just open his eyes a little more.

He looked around the area, avoiding the natural mirror. His eyes roamed the frozen trees, admiring the contrast of the white on the green. I have to come back here and draw this!

His gaze fell on a shape that was slowly approaching. When the details were clear enough, the silhouette was revealed to be the bespectacled boy he shared a dorm with. His face held a look of consternation, a frown on his lips.

"Hey man, whats up?" He said, only afterwards realizing he still didn't know his name.

The boy, who had apparently been distracted, raised his gaze to him, only then noticing his presence.

"Hello mate." The boy answered, his expression unchanged, before walking past Nathan.

Is everyone here just constantly in a bad mood? He asked himself before heading back inside.


Magic was a strange thing. It was capable of incredible things, and yet it took almost no effort. When he wasn't able to cast a spell, it didn't feel as if it was because he was too weak. It just felt like there was nothing happening.

After a long practice session Nathan was more tired mentally than physically. There was no ache in his bones, no tiredness in his soul. Nothing to prove he had spent hours practicing magic.

He didn't think he would ever understand how magic worked. He would never get used to it.

His feet reached the last step of the staircase, and Nathan stopped before the painting, closing the sketchbook in his hands. Offering a small smile, he recited the password, and was let inside.

An empty room greeted him. The clock on the wall indicated curfew had just started, so that didn't explain the lack of people. But the yule ball being on the next day did.

He walked leisurely towards the staircase, when something in the corner of his eyes dragged his gaze towards it. A head of curly hair was sitting on the sofa, reading a book by the fireplace.

The soft glow of the fire bathed her body in a warm orange, her hair glowing golden. White noise filled his ears and static his eyes, as he stood frozen for a moment.

The girl finally noticed his presence, turning and offered a big smile when she noted who he was. "Nathan! I thought you were already in your dorm."

Shaking out of his stupor after some moments, he answered. "I was out taking a walk. Kinda lost track of time." His lips contorted into a sheepish smile, and the girl giggled.

"At least this time you came back before curfew. Even if barely." Some chuckles escaped him, neither forced nor fake.

The girl's smile widened, before shrinking and becoming shy. "Would you mind knitting with me?"

"Ugghhh! Fine!" He whined dramatically, but was already seated, the girl giggling at his antics while going upstairs to retrieve her materials. He opened his notebook once more, perusing his drawings lazily.

There was always a strange feeling in his chest when he looked at some of them, a disquieting heaviness settling in his heart. He could never understand it, no matter how hard he tried.

Sound from the stairs broke his reverie, and he turned his gaze to see Hermione at the bottom of the steps. Before he could get up to help her, she quickly came around the sofa to lay the materials on the ground, a small but happy smile present on her face, almost like a fixture everytime they had these meetings.

With an exaggerated sigh, Nate put his sketchbook by his side, and reached to his misery sticks of knitting, wanting to make sure his torture wouldnt last long. Hermione amusedly giggled, already used to his dramatics.

She noticed the sketchbook lying by his side. Her gaze was drawn to it, curiosity marring her face.

"What is that?" She asked with a tilt of her head and big eyes.

"It's my sketchbook." He answered after hesitating, not sure if he was comfortable with people looking at his drawings.

"Could I see it?" Her eyes were wide with pleading, and even through his anxiety he found it hard to say no, He handed her the book, hands shaking a little.

He distracted himself with his knitting, not wanting to look at her while she judged his drawings. He hated how much his heart was racing for no reason.

"These are really good!" The awed whisper broke his feeble concentration, and he turned his gaze to see her looking intently at the book.

"Thank you…" His words came out awkward and shy, and he turned his attention back to his hands, a small smile wobbling its way on his lips. Hermione put the sketchbook down, turning her big eyes back to him.

"Have you been drawing for a long time?" His gaze went back to her, not expecting the question. Have I? He remembered the few pages that were filled when he 'first' laid eyes on the book.

"No, started this year." For all he knew, that was the truth.

Her smile widened. "And you are that good already? You're very talented!" He meekly thanked her once more, her sincere compliment again turning him shy.

He hastily changed the subject. "What about you? Any hobbies?"

She stayed silent for some moments, before answering. "I like reading books."

All his meekness evaporated, as he looked at her with an incredulous expression. "Really!? I hadn't noticed that! I'm gonna have to pay more attention to you."

She threw a ball of yarn at him, hitting him lightly in the chest. "Ouch!" he said in a deadpan. The girl fell into giggles, and some chuckles escaped him.

After they stopped, he tried once more. "No, seriously, what do you like to do?"

Her hands paused, as her nose scrunched up cutely, as her eyes turned to the ceiling in thought. "Well, I like knitting."

"Something I already don't know, please."

"You are not really making this easy for me." Her narrowed eyes were full of mirth as she looked at him, and he couldn't help but grin at her.

She went back to her work, her expression going back to deep thought. He focused back on his hat, waiting for her to say something more.

"I like listening to music."

He froze completely for some moments, before recovering and turning to face her as she continued speaking.

Her gaze stayed on her nimble hands. "Since i was a little girl. I listen to all types of music when i'm home. Laying in my bed, Lounging in the backyard." She stopped speaking for a moment before giggling. "Dancing like a lunatic through the house."

The image of a cute little Hermione, wildly jumping through a living room and singing at the top of her lungs, amused and warmed his heart at equal measures.

"I like music a lot too…" The words tumbled from his lips without prompting. He felt like it was the truth, but couldn't remember a single song he'd heard. "Do you think there's going to be good music at the ball?" He asked before he got trapped in his mind.

Her eyes flitted to his, before going back down, all without her hands stopping. "Apparently the Weird Sisters are going to play. Though I have no clue what their music sounds like."

Her words made him stop his work. "That's the name of a band?" His incredulous words rang out through the room, and Hermione shushed him before giggling at his befuddlement.

"Wizards and their ridiculous names." With that comment, they continued their work in companionable silence.

He became increasingly frustrated with his horrendous attempt at knitting. "You excited for tomorrow?" He asked, as he redid a loop on his 'hat'.

The movements of her hand slowed slightly, and a shy smile spread on her lips. "I am. But i'm also nervous, it's the first time i'm attending such an event"

As he thought of the dreaded ball, he remembered the boys, desperate to find their dates. "I hope you weren't too annoyed these past weeks." He asked with sympathy for the girl.

When she didn't respond he turned to face her, seeing her confused expression. "With all the boys asking you out." He elaborated.

Her eyes became downcast as she looked down, hair hiding her face. Before he could say anything, her voice came out almost in a whisper. "I was only asked once."

He froze staring at her, his knitting forgotten. "Are you serious?" The befuddlement was easy to hear in his voice. An almost imperceptible nod was her answer.

He took the moment to look at her, really look at her. Her hair wasn't sleek and straight, her body wasn't curvaceous, she wasn't an outgoing flirt.

But she was kind, and nice. Her brown tresses glowed a warm ember in the right light. The same color of her gentle eyes.

Now that he stopped to notice, her face wasn't the prettiest he'd seen in the castle. Her nose was slightly crooked to the left, and her front teeth were big.

I think they're cute. He gave no outward reaction to the thought. Or he hoped. But it wasn't a lie. He liked her smiles. They're warm.

He wondered now, if he would be like others if he still had his memories. Dismissive of her, because she didn't please the eyes. That's not even true.

His eyes started burning, and he thought he was crying. Until the static in his ears grew, and he saw the grain in his vision.

He focused back on the girl, who was focusing harder than she needed on her knitting. She could do that with her eyes closed. He knew.

It doesn't matter.

It didn't. Because he had no memories. And that was reality.

It didn't, because she was one of the few who he felt more comfortable around. In this castle where the walls seemed to close around him. Nearer, and nearer, everyday.

It didn't, because he liked her.

"I knew the people here were dumb, but this is a new low!" Hermione whipped her head around fast enough to crack her neck, and he couldn't help but laugh a little at her expression.

He continued speaking before she could say anything. "I've seen a bunch of kids running after girls these weeks, and yet you were here, perfectly available."

Her face lowered, bangs hiding her face slightly. "They want to go with a pretty girl…"

Her voice trailed off weakly, gaze still to the floor. She didn't see as Nathan leaned forwards, and poked her forehead with his finger.

"That just means they're dumb and blind!" He said, as she looked at him, still confused as to why he had poked her.

"You're pretty Hermione." His courage abated as the words felt awkward falling past his lips. Nonetheless he persevered. "And you're going to look stunning tomorrow!"

The girl just stared at him, at his eyes, mesmerized. As if in a trance. "Im sorry, I-I didn't mea-" He got cut off by the girl lunging at him, crushing him in a hug. He hesitantly hugged her back, wondering when was the last time he was held like this.

They separated shortly, and Hermione tried to discreetly dry her eyes. "Thank you." She uttered softly, gratitude lacing her words. He smiled just as gently, and went back to their work.

"So…" he started after some time, "Who is the lucky guy?" He dared a look at her, and saw her blushing prettily. He looked back to his hands, and saw he had fucked up his loop.

"Viktor Krum."

The needles slipped from his hand, clattering to the ground, and he reached for them on instinct. He straightened back on the sofa, looking at Hermione laughing at his reaction.

He floundered for a reaction, and saw her expression fall. "Hard to believe a famous athlete would ask someone like me, right?"

"That's not why I'm impersonating a fish." He answered on reflex, and was rewarded with a smile on her lips. "Oh, that explains a lot." He said the rest of her sentence registered.

At her questioning look he explained to her. "I bump into him when I'm running in the morning. Doesn't look it, but he's actually kinda nice."

A mischievous glint came to her eyes as she asked, with lips curved in an impish grin, "So you approve of him?"

He could only look at her with an unamused face. "Do I look like your dad?" He said with a deadpan, and she laughed.

Silence stretched in between them. All he could hear was the fire burning, and the needles moving through the yarn. This was the most comfortable he had been around someone since he could remember. The realization only made him relax more.

"I would've asked you to be my date, if i was going with anyone." He said the words before he even realized he'd opened his mouth. She turned to him, expression between elation and confusion.

"Mcgonagall didn't say anything about a date being mandatory." he elaborated before she could say anything, and Hermione only shook her head, a grin on her lips.

On a whim, Nathan got up and stood in front of her. "My lady, let me follow Viktor's example. Would you give me the honor of having a dance with you tomorrow?" He bowed dramatically, one hand outstretched towards her.

She laughed at his antics, before taking his hand. "Of course, my good sir!" He grinned and kissed her hand softly, making her giggle some more.

He sat back down and picked up the needles once more. He was still far from finishing.

He looked at Hermione, and watched her do some finishing movements with her hands, before taking the scarf she made and spreading it on her lap.

He looked down at his own work, and decided he was also done. He didn't stretch his creation in fear of it disintegrating in his hands. It was supposed to be a beanie. He doubted it would even serve as a rag.

"You'll get better." Hermione said, as she grabbed his 'hat' and put it back with the knitting materials. He simply rolled his eyes, and helped her put their things back, ignoring her giggles. She always said that.

They grabbed their things and went to the stairs. She stopped in front of him, before they separated in their different directions. Her hands were stretched towards him, the scarf she had knitted in them.

He looked at her face, and saw her smiling softly at him. He was confused, so she stepped towards him, and wrapped the soft yarn around his neck. She stopped for a moment, before embracing him softly.

He still hesitated before hugging back. He hoped he wouldn't the next time.

She stepped back after some time. "Merry Christmas Nate." She said, a warm smile still on her face, as she turned around and went upstairs.

He stood, dazed for a while, grasping the soft scarf, before going up to his own dorm. He stepped into the bathroom still wearing it, and looked at his reflection.

The scarf was a dark blue, that faded into a softer tone. It looked just like the little cloth that was wrapped around his wand.

Nathan sat on his bed, thinking of a gift to give her tomorrow. He drank the potion of dreamless sleep, and fell asleep shortly after. A smile, as soft as the scarf still wrapped around him, stayed on his lips as he slept.