Chapter 19 - I am falling, I am fading, I am drowning (Help me to breathe)

There was endless destruction before his eyes.

Everywhere he looked there was only fire and death, and the point where it met the dark sky.

Through the sound of flames taking everything from him he heard footsteps, weak and faltering. A boy limped away from him, further into the flames.

He did not need to see his face to know the broken look in his eyes.

"Hey!" He shouted, even when he knew the boy wouldn't turn. Wouldn't stop. "That's Hell you're walking into!"

He went unheard, the boy falling to his face on the ashen ground. He stepped forward to help, one hand outstretched, but was stopped by a burned corpse by his feet.

"What was the point… of me surviving this hell?" He choked the answer out to the heavens, gaze locked on the mountain of dead he stood upon.

Rain kept pouring down, the blazing inferno around him standing unaffected. All it served for was to mask the tears that fell from his eyes as he watched the boy be rescued by a man with a smile that was the only good thing he had left in the world.

Determination blazed to life in him at the memory, its flames roaring stronger than the ones in the surroundings. He took a step forward-

"Hey."

A deep voice sounded from behind him, mocking and exhausted in its tone. He did not need to turn to know whose it was.

"That's Hell you're walking into."

There was none of the earnest worry that had been present in his own warning to the boy. Still, he turned to meet the gaze of the man.

"I know."

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-̷̠̤̩̻̤͇̌̌̒͗́ͅn̶̟̞̻̖͚̭̆̀̈́e̷͖̗̟̠͗̉ ̶̻̫̀͂̍c̶͓͚̫̰̝͉͘a̴̟̬̙͒̎̕̕ͅr̴̨̹̦̰͓̆̄͌̓͌͋̓e̵̟̻̦͉͐̑d̴̟̭̼̃̃͂͆͊͒̏ ̸̨͔̫̺̲̺̏̿̏̚͠͝͝f̷̯̗̠̩̠̪̽͑̐̓͑ỏ̷̡̪̠̆̀̉r̷̫̺̈́-̴̗̲͇̺̊̃h̵̛͇̆͗͐͌̑͝e̶̝̻̻̭̎̊̐͝ͅͅ ̴̤̜͚̹̖̎̈́̈́͘͝s̶͇̘̹̙̣͙̔̾̽͗̀̓k̷̛̭͎̋ì̵̥̹͉͚̥̰̋̄̉̐͛͝n̵͇̺̬͎̋̉̃͒ ̵̢̧̼̯̰͛͜b̴̡̨̛̻͈́̐̀̒́u̵̝̐͑̃̓͝͝r̷̢͈͈͔͉̾̊n̵̞̪͓͎̬̺͙͐̉̇͠-̴̮͚͉̑̌̈́ͅm̵̢͕̫̱̖̀̾̽̂̽͝e̴͕̼̯͑̑̂̆̋͝ǹ̵̥̗̭̘́͗̊͘t̸̨̬͂̄ ̷̨̨̡̈́̏̄̏t̸̹̀͋̑͜͝ḧ̶̰̘͖͙́͊̒͜ͅè̷̯͒̾͝ ̷̱̺̝̼͓̈̿͆̃̓̈́͑p̵̰̣̰͇̫͖̏̌͌͊͗̐͘͜a̴̢̯͖̓͋̔̕i̵̡͍̼͈̽̿̈͛̏̒n̶̢͔̭̪̹̊̀ ̴̛͈̰̫m̴̛̟͋̓͜ṳ̶̡̦̩̯͉͈̏͂̀̄͒͊͠l̶̠̤̼̻̫̈́̅͋͗̐̎̒ṭ̵̳͚̖̙͖̲̔̚͝ḭ̶̛̰͕̠p̴̝̬̈́̊̑͗l̸̞͛̇̆̉̀̓͝-̷̭̄̓͒̌́͝͠ę̸͙͍̺̞̞͛̑̒ ̷̧̛̲͙͙̙̝͓̾͒̕ḥ̸̆̊̎̔̎̓ä̴͓̘͇̻͓̩́́͒̅́̓ͅḑ̴̧̲̟͛͛̒ ̵̧̘͆͗ẽ̸̖̥͕͕̝͈͋̌̒̑n̴͙͚͉̻̼̘͜͝ơ̴̡̬̟̦̠̼̽̓̿̌-̷̫̻͖͛̈́̈́̕͝l̶͖̼͚̈̒l̷͕̀̈́̔̽̍i̴̞͍̗͗̀̍͗n̸͉̼͇̣̯̼̅̽͋͂g̷̹̗͎̓̊̌ ̸̧͎̰̝̾̑̾̕̕ĉ̸̮͉̙̠͓̀̂̿͘o̸͕͚̼͂̀̔̍͊͊̚l̶̡̛̤̜̗̙̳̋̕ͅd̵͔̓̃̈́̍̋̚͝ ̵̨͎̤̥̩̇̽̓̆̚̕s̷̰̝̭̋̽̃͝w̷̨̼̥͇͙̎̐̀̿̇̕e̶̪͓͋̓͗̚p̶͈̽̇̽͝-̶̲̂͊̓̏̕r̶̼͓̝̳͕̟̒̍̾̿̾ļ̷̡̗̦̥̉͊̍d̸̨̪͕͊̑̉͜͝ ̶̢̳͕͈͙͌͒͑̂m̶̨͙̠̩̲͗̓̌͜͜e̶͖͙͇̝̭̎͜l̵̥͚̄́̽͆̒͠t̷̨͓̗̮̍͐̽͗̀̎̈́e̶̛͕̹̝͗͑̄̍ḋ̵̲͉̱̹̰͗̍̎̏̊̚ ̴͕̪́́͌́ͅǎ̸̛̖͍͖̥͓͖̐̄́ṙ̶̬̣̠͂̈́̾͒̀̈õ̴̖ũ̸̱͆̍͛̎͋n̷̯̯̞̝̥̗̣̔̈́͆͊̇-̴̠̲̲͇̭̼͊̏̀͗n̶̨̪̲̞̯̥̂̾̆̓́̓͜o̴̧͓̐͌̊̀͛͝ ̴̢̤̝̲̤̉͜͠ō̷̡͙̩̙n̴̼̞̱̥̖̖̍́́̍̄͗̋é̶̦͍̻̙̭̟̟̇̃̅̄ ̴͖͎͍̥̱̀͝c̸̗̣͊̔͋̈ḁ̶̡̟͓̦͔͐̿̓-̵̢̨̤̮̿͝i̵̯̲͈̒͗e̶͉̒͐̃͊̓͝s̶̢̙̯̥͕̩͌̕ ̴̛͈̝̜̘̩͔͍͗̎̊͋́ẗ̴̻̒̈͐͐͗͝w̴̥̱̥͎̺͋̈́̽͗̉̏͠ī̵̛͓̝̏̽ͅͅs̴̹̥͍̿̾̇̚ͅṱ̷̲̝̗̐̃́̈́͘į̶͎̘̻̮́̊͛͂̒n̵̢̗̭̑͌ǵ̷̞̗͎́̽͂͗ ̷̛̟̞̒̃̕͝͝͝i̶̜͇̩̰͈̒̈́̎n̶̨̺͗́̈́͜ ̷̙̯͍͖̱̲̞̄̉̐͂͊ŝ̷̢͙̟͛͐͘ț̸̦͈̪͒͒͒̅̾o̶̫̍̌ḿ̶̘̙̤-̶̲̟̠̥͈̏͝ÿ̶̡̱̼͉̝́̂͛̇̈e̴̳̯̣͇͂̈́͋̌͘͝s̶͇͉̺͖̎̊̓ ̸̢̢̬͍̏̚͝o̸͚̞̜̪̼̙͉̓͛͗̀̽̌f̵͔̻̜̔̉͋̄́͌ ̵̣̟̠̽ẗ̸̝̝͈̮̦͕͛̀h̴̨̟͎͍͎͑̆͛͐̐ẹ̵̬̤̗̿̎͗͂̄̄͘ ̷̡̥͓̎̓̑̽̋͐͝w̴̛͚̻̳̍̕ǫ̶̧̱̳͚̼̙̿ȓ̷͔̱̫̦̱̃͛̄̏́̕ͅl̷̹̤̟̘̫͚͕͋̕d̸͇̹͈̥̃̚ ̴̨̦̜͓͉̝͚͘ẁ̷̧̱̺͍̞͔̈͆͗̍ͅe̸̠̣̱͕͐i̶̢͍̱͉̍̅̎͑̕g̵͕̣͂͒̅͛̽͘͝-̴̢̧̻͔̭̄̈̾ó̴̗̻͋́ ̷̢̛͕c̸̪̘͚̎̊͊̊̆͝ơ̴̞̰̥̭̤̝͉̈́̽̎̎̕͝ḻ̷̯̰̖͔̈́̎̈́ǒ̸̤̭͇̙̱̭̽r̶̬̰̋̑̊f̴̨̛̰̥̉̆͌̐̕̚ǘ̶̟̗̙̲l̶̡̯͇̩͗̃ ̷̼͈̼̖̈̒̋a̴̧̩͕̫͎̜̺̓͛̈́͘͝n̶̢̳̰̝̲̋̏͐̾̄ͅd̴̛̮̪͑͛̄̈́̚ ̶̛̯̟̇͂t̶̘̀̅̈́o̵͚̯̯͉̔͛͋̏͒͝ǫ̸͉̒̓ ̷̖́̂͊͠d̶͈̲̺̏ͅų̴̘͚͇̿̂͆̿̾-̷̫͚̗̂́̈́̀̇͘͝a̵̧̯̱̙͈̓̊̓ţ̸̗̭̇͐̃͑͛̀͘ẹ̸̞̃͂̽̋̆̽̀r̸̡̗̾̽͜ ̸̢̘̣̖̏̓̾̐̄̈́w̴̛̙͓̬͗͗͒a̶̧̢̪̺͖͛̌̚̕ș̷̡̨̭̖̒͊̀̐͜ ̶̲̞̥̾͑͛̀͗͘b̵̮̤͍͉͉͋î̶̜̮̆̅̄t̷̡͍̖̱̘̙̽͐̑̈̑͝ĩ̵̧̲̗͙̪͌̊͆͒̑̀ͅͅn̷͙̲̟̥͙̖̣̔͌g̷̫͍̋̕l̴̝̰̱̝̮̋̄͑y̷̧̨̻̠̠̗̼̽͆̉̿͝ ̶̡͔̱͍̪͋̂̎́͌̈́č̷̟̰̱͊͗̈́̅o̷̭̭͑-̶̖̲̝͕̱͕̐̋̃̀͗̓̔e̸̢̗͓͎̼̿̊͐́ͅt̶̞͎̻̦̜̱̟͐ ̶͚̈́͐̆̂̾̍̀i̴̢̢̹͚͍̯̼͆t̴̗̀̒̈́̾̆ ̵̧̛͙̬͔̊̄͜b̷͎̀͊e̵̢̦̠̣͙͓͉̎̓̅͛ ̷̺͎͍̲̦̖͑̑̿̂̂̅̓d̶̝̑͂͐́̊e̴̢̞̝̝̽̓̂͆̀͆-̶̛͎̼͓̪̮͒̿̍̈́͐͠ļ̶̯̥̤̙̆̓̒̕d̵̛̪̦͈̳̎̍̆͜ ̴̮̣̮͇̰̳̬̉̂̉͋͌h̵̢͍̲͍͍͕͉̋́̐͆̾̋ä̸̢͈͇̞͓͔́́͐̄̾̚ǹ̵̗̰̙͎̉̀d̶̫̯̟̉̈́͊͝s̴̡̱̘̞͍͚͂̽̽̆̚ ̸̢̡̖̳́̀h̷̛͍̰̣̙̍̃̒̃͝ẹ̸̱̓́̉̂l̴̰͂̃̃d̷̛̟̾̉́͐̈́̿ ̶̞̖̮͐̌̀̾̎̃͜h̴̻͍̜̭̗̏̂͠î̵͈̘͘s̸̟̪̯͇̥̱͌̃͋̚ ̵͍̻̼͑̿͋̂͜n̶̖̬̍͐̇̐̂͋̕-̶̨̺̫̥͆̑̽i̷͖̪̓̏͒s̸̼̭̦̫̥̮̋̂̌̈ͅ ̸̛͓͇͚̠̼͇͕̆̀̇͝͝è̸͙̟̩̯̹̖͐͒̎̏͠ĺ̷̙͒̍͌̇̕̕ḁ̷̛̙̮͖̘̪͌͊̄t̵̛̘̆̍̇͊͘i̵̡̲̜̽̔̅̉o̶̡̧͍̲͙̖̠̅͗̄͐n̵̬̈́̎̎̎̆̚͝ ̸̞̜̣̀͝l̷̖̹̩̩̉è̶͎̜̯͊͌̀̚a̸̯̿̔͗-̵̢̛̛͙̯͚̉è̵̱̏͌̓̚̚r̶̺̪̲̆ ̴̫̩̥̳͖̟̏̄̈̽̐͠͝ą̶̼̙͓̙̩͋ņ̸̧̜̰̗̈́̊̿͋̐d̶̡̯̜̼̩́̈́̂̕͝ ̸̞͓͖̋̈́̓̍̏̽̈͜ͅo̴̠͔͑̆v̵̛͍̲̺͙̣͖̯̐̊͌̕͘-̶̨̢̻̦̰̑̆͊͜s̴̗̩͑́̍̈̊͗ ̸͙̫̘̾̈́͊̉̎̔f̸̧̡͉̈̌͂̕͝ó̴̩̃̕ŗ̴̛̈́͌̓̔ė̷͇͝ḧ̶̤́́̚̚e̵̛͔ȁ̴̛̭͎̥͎̞͎̍̂͒̇d̴̖̤̜̱̼̙̘̋̓̾̂̔̈́ ̴̢̦̲̩̫͙̐̂b̸̰̝̲̜̫̈́͗ȗ̸̧̧̮̼̱͇̇͗r̵̛̼̺̳͑͒̇̆̐͛-̴̩̫͉̽̃͗̄͝e̸̢̤̘̙̜̲͑͋̈́̚ė̵̞͛̕̕r̷̯̰̭̆̀͗ ̴̝̺̈́ḏ̸̞̲͉̗̃̏̉̈́͌ḛ̴̢̩̑̆͝s̷̨̻͍̱͕̮̱͑p̵̧͔͔͌͗͗͒̀̈́ą̷̟̍̓͝i̶͙̱͎̔r̶̬͈̝̣͇͑͜ ̵̯̓i̴̡͕̺̬͒͊̏̍n̸͚͎̰̩̓s̵͓̘͈̜͕͊i̷͕̯͖̳͝͝-̵̘̯́̂̊͒͛͝͝e̸̪͎͇͉͆̋̽͋͋̚͜ ̵̡̘̰̠̠͎̌͋̈́͒͐l̴̼̍̈́o̴͒́́̌̓̚̕͜ş̴̜̳̳̜̬̓̄s̸̞̻͕̍͂̀̄̀͝ ̶̣̜͙̣̒̅̃̐̉̚̚ͅẖ̶̾͌̐̕ę̶̪̞̬͓̄͋̌͜ ̶̛͈̘̼̩̮̭̖͆́́f̶̙͚͔́͐͐̿̔̕͠è̷̛̦̮͇̺͑̀̓̀̂-̶͕̦̽̈̔̎́͘g̴̛̲̽́̈͝ẖ̶̛̠́͒͊̉̚,̴̬̟̠̘͓̉̅͋͜ ̴̧͔̜̳͐́͘͜b̵͇̖̘͐̄͆ͅe̵̟͙̖͖̺͗͐͜s̵̜̞̥͎̜̫̳̒͂͛͆͐͝ť̴͈͘ͅî̸̧̢͓̜̘̲̊a̷̻͖͚̪̿̓̀͊l̵̛͕̞̦͈̗̺̄́̔͘ ̸̬̠̜̝̄̋͒̉s̸̥̞̊̈́̾́̄͘-̵̣̜̻̤̹̈́̋̒̔̕͝ṛ̵̪̫̝̈́͑̓̂ͅͅt̶̫͙̦̰̆̀͝ẽ̶̢̩̳̦͔͕̋͌̒͘d̷̢̛̲͉͊̍̅̆ ̷̰̤͇̇̓̅͐a̶̤͋͆ġ̷̦̬̜̻̐͋ͅȍ̸̬͖̮̣̋̄̎̑͑̇ṇ̵̡̣͍̭̖͈̍͒̂̎̒͝ǐ̷̩̣̯̐͒̓͠ź̸̘̻͕̽̏̆͝ḯ̸̠̠̉̄̓̉͌͊n̵̥͆̈́̌̌͠g̵̲̻̜̀͒͑̋̕͝l̵̝̤̻̱͍̞̃̈̓͠ÿ̷̛͔̙̺͎͚̰̝́̏̀ ̴̘̝̦̾̽̿̈̒̈͊s̶͚͉̳̫͕͛̓́̍̄l̵̜̓̊̕o̵̠̭̘̤͉̅ͅ-̵̦̫̼̣͋̕ķ̸̞͎̋̀͗̔̄̆͜ë̵̘͉̤̝̍ ̷̨̛̫̮͕͚̍͒̍̀e̷̼͙̋̍m̸̭͠ͅp̸̻̱̪̒̈̽͊͐̓͆ţ̶̛̲̣̳́͌͂̕͝͝ỹ̶̙͔͉̥̬̖͂͆̔̏̕ ̷̡̟̬͕̆͗̀̍͌ͅj̶̡͈̺̜͛o̶̞̘̞̰͘ͅͅ-̶̨̧̢͚̱̯̄͒ͅų̴̻͉̞̯̗́̏͂͋́́͘i̵͉̱̫̼̤͙͔̍̀͊͛l̸̢͉̑̋́t̷̳͚̤̦̱̊̒̾̽̉̚̕ ̵̫̬͒̒̂̚͝ṡ̴̼̮͎̜̠̈̿ͅͅp̷͇̠͓̹̐̏̉̑̄͜ë̶̺̆̽͊̑͑ä̷̮͎̬̭̉̈́̿r̵̙̙͇̞̪̺̆̐̈́̎͂ͅĕ̸̳̦̳͇̙̼̉̑̄d̷̖͍͖̣̞̄̿̅͒ͅ ̷̜̺̫̣͓̰̱͛̊̕t̷̗͇̭̊͂͐̀̄̅͘h̸̡͇̄͜r̸̮̠͇͎̥̈́̇̑͐͝o̸̗͚̱̾͌͠-̸̢̧̡̦̹̍́̔̐̽̇͛ͅͅo̷̟̼̱͓̰̜̣͘ớ̸͈͍̟͔͓̥̼̓̕d̴̤̆̒͗ ̷̡͔̗͑͆̀͜m̷̰͊̑̀o̴͍̫͖̜̙͙̳̍̿͑͑̊̈́̚t̸̙̦̹̳̏͐į̴̹̘͖̈́̄̋͠o̵̟̎̀͆̉̚͠n̷̜̗̖̰͔̆̂̎͗l̷̢̤͛͊͗͝-̸̮͋̾̚̚ş̶̘̭͇̼͑̓͗͑ȩ̷̤̹̮͉̎͋̈̋͆͜͝ ̸̨͔̿w̷͚̲̙̭͇̟̙͆̈̈̈́̽͠͝e̸͇̻̘̳͂̄̍̈́͘͝͝r̷̥̥͌̾͗͠e̵̞̭̬̫̯̮̘̔̿͗͆̈́͘ ̴̩͉͘p̷̢͕̌̊͂̆͗͒̚͜r̸̡̲̗̋̋e̷̛̟͚̯̠̋t̵̠̜̥̣̪̜̜̆̐t̴̝͉̭͙̹͘y̷̟͛̀̃̅̒ ̸̡̝̪̺͕͋̆̎͐̊͝w̵̢̩̩̋̄o̴̭̖͈͕͐͊ͅ-̸̩̼̼̹̮̐̋̕͠ͅą̵̧̤̪̱̥͍͛̏̅s̶̡̫͒ḩ̸̙̦̼̣̝̃̌̇̐̈̊͐ ̵̗̤̃̀̀̚ǫ̵̀̐̄̀͘͝f̶̨͎̙͕̜̹́̈́͊̆͛͝ ̸̠̫͋͛̎̓͂͂̚s̶̢̜̰͕̍̆̈̉̎͑͜ḭ̵̱̱̳̗̬͛̏c̸͕̬̼̀͊k̵̡̛̦̥̀͑̌͒̋ ̷͖̮̩̙͔͙͝g̷̹̻̈̋͂́́͠r̷̻͓̖͇̺͔͐̎͜e̷̫͉̪͖̣̱̯̓̇̓̂͗̒-̵͕̐͂̈͂̑̚

"Fuck!" Nathan screamed as he jumped awake, the back of his head harshly hitting the wood of the bed. He curled into a ball on the ground, hands holding his head desperately as painful tears fell from his eyes.

"Fuuuuuuc-" His words failed as the pain spiked. He didn't know what hurt more from the rude awakening, but most of him knew it was the harsh whispers that still persisted. Nathan tried to open his eyes, harsh light instantly blinding him through his blurry vision. He shut his eyes with a hiss, tears still falling into the cold, hard floor where he lay.

Slowly, so slowly, the whispers receded, and he felt like his brain was his own once more. Daring to open his eyes he saw an unfamiliar room. Panic flooded him before receding in a moment, leaving him nauseated. Diagon alley. He assured himself as he stood on unsteady feet. I'm in Diagon alley, and I'm okay. Vertigo almost brought him back to the ground as he stumbled his way into the bathroom.

He splashed cold water in his face, desperately searching for the comfort he usually finds with the repetitive action. His eyes landed on the mirror by the wall, the reflection just as mocking as in the castle. He hurriedly walked away, unable to look himself in the eye for long.

*Clink**Clink*

Nathan jumped at the sudden sound, knees bending as he turned to the source. The sun shined strongly through the window, making it hard to see the details of the dark shape outside. He approached with squinted eyes, one hand shading them, the other pulling his wand.

*Clink**Clink*

The sound came again, harsher, as he got close enough to see what the disturbance was. A white owl, its gaze showing annoyance to a human degree. Nathan opened the window as he realized whose owl it was.

The bird immediately flew in, landing on his shoulder and nipping at his ear angrily.

"Ouch! Cut it out!" He screamed at it, hands batting the bird away. It took off, circling the room and landing on the table by his bedside.

He approached cautiously, hand outstretched to grab the letter tied to its leg. In a flash the bird tried to peck him, but he withdrew his hand on time.

"Give me a break, I was sleeping!" Its gaze was contemptuous, but it seemed to huff after a moment, offering the letter to Nathan. He tore it open as he sat on the bed.

Are you really going to ignore me like everyone else? I thought you and I had become friends, or was that another delusion of the boy-who-lived? Just answer my letters please, it doesn't even need to have relevant information of what's going on! Just tell me why you're not answering!

Harry Potter.

A single vision, of a depressed Harry sitting alone in his room, flashed through his mind in a moment. "Shit." Nathan exclaimed weakly, as he jumped to his feet and ran to his bag on the ground.

Questions and answers and more questions flew through his racing mind as he searched for writing utensils. God, the kid must be miserable. Is everyone else ignoring his letters? Why? As he grabbed his items and raced back to the table, he forced himself to forget his confusion, if only for a moment.

Hey Harry.

I'm really sorry about not answering sooner. I went traveling as soon as I got back from school, and just returned today. I didnt receive any other letters from you, so thats why I didnt answer them.

I would tell you what's been happening in the magic world, but I honestly havent been following the paper much. I'll take a look and tell you what I find.

Of course we're friends, dumbass! Do I look like someone that can lie that well?

Are you as bored as I am? If so, do you wanna hang out one day? Just so you know, I might not wait for a response and just follow your owl to your house, so dont be surprised if I show up unannounced.

I'll be waiting for more letters.

Nathan Winters.

Not sparing a moment to check any grammatical errors, he folded the letter and hurriedly tied it to the impatient owl's leg. "Send this as fast as you can to him, please!" He said with desperation, as he opened the window wide for the animal.

With one last indignant hoot, the creature flew through the window, and Nathan watched it fade into the horizon, worry for his friend still nauseating him.

"Goddammit!" He screamed in frustration as he stomped back to the table, remembering the rest of his friends that had not received any letters from him either.

His letters to Neville and Luna were short and sweet, asking how they were and if they also wanted to hang out before school returned. But Hermione's was different, as he had a bone to pick with her.

Hey Hermione!

Sorry if you sent me any letters and I didnt answer. I was travelling, so if you did send any, just know that I didnt receive anything. So it wasnt my fault this time!

Anyway, how have you been? Doing anything interesting? Travelled around with you parents? Send them a hello from me, will you?

But speaking about not answering letters, I just recieved one from Harry. One where he seemed very pissed about being ignored by his friends. Whats up with that? Did something happen between you two?

I really hope there wasnt a fight or something. But if there was, and it wasnt too serious, could you maybe send him a letter? The kid sounded really desperate and sad, and I really dont think he should be alone after what happened to him at the third task.

Anxiously waiting for yout reply.

Nathan Winters.

He winced as he rolled the letter impatiently, only now noticing how horribly ugly his writing looked. He just knew Hermione would blow a gasket at how many errors there were in the letter.

His heart ached for a beat, and he turned to the bird-

Only to see nothing.

A groan left him as he realized he had no way to contact his friends without them reaching out first.

Nathan dropped the letter on the table, falling face first to the bed behind him, his earlier headache slowly resurfacing.

Mind numbing from the jumbled thoughts jumping around, he relaxed on the soft mattress, letting his body sort itself out. A loud and painful growl came from his stomach, and he was forced to get up. With a stretch he got up, grabbing the cold sandwich that had been discarded on the floor, and plopped down on the chair by the table.

Right. What do I do now? He thought as he took a bite of his food, nose scrunching at the stale taste. Gotta find a way to contact everyone. Find out where Harry lives. Get more money. He grimaced, knowing what he would have to do to complete the third item in the list. Find out why everyone's ignoring Harry.

Pain pulsed through his head as images and whispers filled his mind-Harry alone at his room-cold-A dark house with a depressed man-alone-A veil-

Nathan gasped for air, as if coming up for air in the ocean, head raising from the table it had fallen limply on. His eyes swiveled through the room in fear as he breathed harshly. Nathan forced himself to his unsteady feet, the room suffocating him all of a sudden. He needed to get out.

Not bothering to throw away the dirty wrapper of his sandwich, he gathered his things and marched out of the door, not sparing a thought at the fact he had slept with his door unlocked, and that he was doing so again.

He rushed downstairs, making a beeline to the almost empty bar. It made it easier for him to approach the unoccupied bartender.

"Good morning!" Said the toothless grinning man as Nathan reached the bar. "Are you feeling better?"

"Sure." He answered offhandedly, voice rough and odd as he remembered how he had zombied his way inside. "Listen, is there a place here where I can send a letter to my friends?"

"Owl post service, right by gringotts." The bald man said, pointing his hand in the direction. "Big wood statue of an owl, can't miss it!"

"Thanks." Nathan said, turning to walk away. His hunger chose that moment to remind him that a single sandwich wouldn't be enough for the amount of days he had gone without food.

"On second thought…" He said weakly as he pulled himself on the high stool. "What you got for breakfast?"

Nathan stood in front of the bookstore after having sent his letters off.

Hesitation stood his feet, as he contemplated the worth of wasting his 'vacation' studying, all the while the hours on end spent on the library of Hogwarts taunted him.

With an indignant huff at himself, he pushed the door open, a soft chime announcing his presence and making him jump slightly.

"Welcome to Flourish and Blotts! How can I help you?"

Nathan startled even more, turning to see a pretty woman laughing at his jumpiness.

"Uh, Hi." His voice was shy, uncomfortable with the woman's attention on him. "I need help to find some books for some, um, pretty specific needs…" His words slowly trailed off, knowing how ridiculous his request would sound.

"Oh?" The woman's red lips turned into a mischievous grin. "And what would those needs be?"

"Right, so, do you guys have any psychology or neurology books?"

The look on the woman's face went from mischievous to incredulous, her eyes conveying the notion that she did not understand a single word of what he just said. He couldn't blame her, he had no clue how he knew what those words meant.

"I mean, like, books that talk about how the mind works, things that can affect it, how to treat it. Stuff like that"

She kept looking at him, until her eyes widened in understanding. "Oh, you mean books about mind healing!" She said, smile coming back to her lips. "Just follow me!"

They stopped at a shelf by the back of the store, and she turned and gestured to it. "This shelf has some books on the subject. I'm afraid I don't know much of the subject, so I won't be able to give you any recommendations, darling."

"That's okay, thank you. '' He answered, watching her walk away. Nathan turned back to the shelf with a shake of his head. "What a hit with the ladies you are." He mumbled to himself as he searched through the titles.

After hours of reading he left with two books and a much lighter pocket. He winced at how much more expensive the books were than what he expected. But what truly weighed him down was the lack of any information that truly matched what had been happening to him.

As if summoned, blurry fragments flitted through his mind. Most were impossible to understand, either passing too quick or too removed from context.

But connecting some with similar imagery, a broken mosaic slowly formed in his mind, dread rising as the answer he knew all along became impossible to escape.

Harry. He was seeing Harry's life, just like that day in Hogwarts.

And also like that day in the school, he was seeing the future.

Nothing concrete, and certainly nothing clear. But the aged boy and his friends all but confirmed it.

Just like his dreams and hallucinations the memories seemed to have no purpose to appear other than to torment him. Frequent enough that he could never escape and forget. Unclear enough that he would never understand what it meant. Why it was happening to him.

Arriving in his room, he fell back on his bed, pulling one of the books open, not absorbing a single word.

He did not know how long he had been reading, but he was suddenly snapped out of focus by the same sound from that morning.

Jumping to his feet, he went to the window, seeing the same irritated Owl from before. He opened the glass before it got even more angered.

The animal, once more, landed on the bedside table, and Nathan wasted no time pulling the letter from its leg.

I'm sorry for the rude letter before. I'm on my wits end, and everybody ignoring me has only made all of this worse.

I was hoping you would have some information for me. I've been completely isolated from the wizarding world, and it's driving me mad!

I wouldn't be opposed to hanging out, but my relatives don't let me go out much. I'll see what I can do.

Thank you for the letter.

Harry Potter.

He wrote a simple reply, folded the letter at a much more leisure pace than in the morning, and secured it to the owl's offered leg. He went back to open the window, but stopped, turning to the animal.

"One of these days, I'ma follow you back to his house. Got it?"

With what seemed like approval in its eyes, the animal took off, fading once more into the sky.

Nathan went to close the window, but was almost knocked over as a blur shot through the gap. With his heart beating a thousand times a second, he turned to see another owl, the same one he had seen taking off from the post office, perched in the frame of the bed.

Still with ragged breath, he snatched the paper in its legs, the animal having the decency to look sheepish, somehow.

Dear Nathan

It's so nice to receive a letter from you without you being forced to write it!

My vacation has been going well, and my parents are doing fine, thank you for asking! It's nice to be able to spend time with them, but I can't wait to go back to Hogwarts!

There wasn't a fight between me and Harry, you don't need to worry. I do also think he shouldn't be alone, but we were told to not contact him frequently. Someone could track the owl and put him in danger. And we also can't tell him anything that has been happening so he doesnt go looking for danger.

I don't like it, but it's for his own good. Please, try to do the same.

Kind regards

Hermione Granger

"What a bunch of bullshit." He roughly pulled a quill and parchment from his bag, settling it down on the table and writing an answer with more force than necessary.

Dear Hermione

You have a good point about him being in danger. I'm not too into the recent news, but it was made very clear with the last task that something fishy was going on.

But I think I have a much better point: Harry watched someone die. That's not an easy thing to go through, and the last thing that should happen to him right now is to be isolated.

I know he's a prominent figure in the wizarding world, but couldnt something be done so he could be given some freedom? Something like people to monitor him or something?

Honestly, with the way you phrased your letter, it sounds like you were told to not talk to him. Who was the dumbass? Or can you not tell me?

I sincerely urge you to reconsider your choice, for our friend's sake.

Well wishes

Nathan Winters

With a heavy sigh, he rolled the letter, absentmindedly securing it to the bird's feet and closing the window after it had gone.

Nathan fell to his bed, feeling utterly exhausted from the day, and already knowing the next few would be even worse.

With one last sigh, he let the darkness behind his eyelids consume him.