Chapter 28 - Ashes of Dreams

Everyone was crying. Wailing loudly with despair and pain in their souls. He could not stop his own tears. Not when he could feel his heart breaking into a million pieces at the sounds of the people he loved losing themselves.

"It hurts so much!

"I don't wanna die!"

"Why, does it have to be so…"

He could not bear it anymore. Could not hear another sob or plea of despair.

And so, he sang.

"~Walk on, wandering souls, for your respite we pray—"

"NATHAN!"

The violent pulling of the curtains surrounding him forced Nathan awake, his body moving on autopilot to protect itself in spite of the aches permeating his bones.

Blurry shapes were all he could see through his daze: One closer, being held by one of Nathan's hands as the other remained in the air, ready for a punch. Another farther back, agonizingly recognizable in spite of its indistinguishable features at the moment. He blinked until the tears were gone, revealing a frightened Harry, but no little girl he knew had been there.

Dazedly, Nathan turned to Harry, lowering his arm but not letting go. "What's wrong?"

Harry visibly hesitated. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't, didn't want to-"

Nathan squeezed his friend's arm to ground both of them, bile rising up his throat as he forced himself to stare at his friend. "What happened?"

"I-I saw Mr. Weasley-" Harry's voice was hitched as he forced the words out, wild eyes twitching. "He was-he was attacked…"

"Shit." Nathan was fully awake now, helping Harry walk with Ron, who he hadn't noticed was also awake, as they went to find help. The silence in the desolate castle was the perfect excuse for his mind to scream at him about the reflection that stood beside in place of the usual image of his friend.

That, together with the previous day's happenings, were enough to make sure Nathan remembered nothing of the journey, only coming back to himself inside of an extravagant office with the rest of the Weasleys, McGonagall and Dumbledore. Static floated in front of his eyes, no matter where he looked.

"In the dream, were you standing next to the victim, or looking down at the scene?" Dumbledore asked, back turned to all of them.

"Neither, It was like I…" Was the one attacking him, Nathan thought, the unspoken words clear even to his sluggish brain.

His arm started burning.

He started scratching it.

"Will you please just tell me what's happening?" Harry asked, thinly veiled desperation in his voice.

Dumbledore seemed to ignore him, walking around and talking to his portraits.

"Everard, Arthur's on guard duty tonight, make sure-"

"Sir-"

"You must go to your portrait at grimmauld-"

"Please-"

"-and his children will be arriving there soon by-"

"LOOK AT ME!"

.

…

…..

Silence pervaded the room after the inhumane scream from Harry, shock clear on their faces as they all looked at him.

All but Nathan.

He couldn't look. He focused on a point on the wall, fighting against the wave of fear that threatened to send him to his knees. His nails dug into his skin as he scratched incessantly at his marred arm, all the while fighting off his brain from imagining his friend's face morphing into the same one he saw in the mirror after awakening.

—rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii—

The static rose in pitch like a violent sea, Nathans eyes fluttering in pain and delirium, until he could no longer distinguish between real and visions and a third, more frightening thing.

"What's happening to me?" Harry's anguish was muddled and clear through the rising ringing, voice morphing into someone else's. Someone younger.

Nathan felt his heart skip a beat. The sound of the noise got louder.

Sound from behind pierced through the riptide of noise trying to drown him, as Nathan jumped with one hand raised and trembling, wide eyes falling on a blurry shape that could only be Snape. He could feel more than see the wand in the professor's hand.

"You wished to see me, Headmaster?" The professor asked, eyes jumping from Nathan to Dumbledore and back to Nathan. He hid his wand once Nathan lowered his stance.

"Severus, I'm afraid we can't wait any longer," Dumbledore said as he finally approached Harry, even if his intent was to get closer to the professor. "Otherwise, we will all be vulnerable."

Snape nodded, grabbing Harry roughly and bodily dragging him out of the office—.

—iiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG—

The ring rose in pitch, Nathans eyes fluttering in pain and delirium as the infernal sound went higher and higher—

*SNAP*

Until it all snapped, and Nathan felt a part of him go with it.

The fog in his mind lifted. Time slowed until it moved in an agonizing crawl. Nathan's awareness returned, expanding impossibly across the room, forcing him to bear witness to every single detail in the surroundings.

By his side he could hear the fear from the Weasley's, manifesting into tiny sobs and irregular breaths and mumbles of meaningless words.

Behind him he could feel Dumbledore's exhaustion as if it were a physical weight, enormous and overbearing, and not big enough to drown the ever growing apathy in the man.

In front he could see Harry, slowly being dragged away, eyes widening impossibly, free arm raising in the hopes his friend would help him.

Beyond the door, the static warped, forming into the little girl from earlier. It was his first time seeing her face clearly, but her name almost slipped out of his lips before it got stuck on his throat.

Nathan felt his body step forwards—

*SLAM*

The door slammed in his face.

.

…

…..

Nathan stood frozen, alone in the middle of the room, still reaching for his friend, looking beyond the door at the girl still staring at him.

The room around him slowly vanished, objects and people disappearing from his perception. All that was left was the little girl in front, standing lonely in oblivion.

The arm he had raised in hopes of reaching someone burned like a dying star.

He felt the blood run down his arm to his fingertips, falling from his skin to hit the ashes he knew were beneath his feet

…

…..

….

*drip*

*CRACK*

The noise around him cracked.

"What the FUCK do you think you're doing!?" Nathan whispered with a thousand voices, all burning with fury as he turned around to face the amorphous being that caused all this pain. "Why are you doing this!?"

The Thing seemed to flinch, its shape for a moment solidifying into something that Nathan thought he recognized. The moment passed, the thing standing tall to tower over him. Nathan stomped forwards.

"You did the same shit to Lily—You did the same shit to ME!" He advanced on the Thing, anger overriding his fear of something he knew held so much power.

Not so invisible hands tried to hold him back, grabbing him from every side, choking him from every angle.

"DON'T!" He shouted as a shockwave dispersed from him, the air around them cracking like glass. The hands vanished and his vision immediately swam with the vertigo that suddenly assaulted him. Still, though, he did not avert his glowing, blazing eyes from the being's dead ones. "A-Answer me."

The Thing's eyes shifted to a toxic green surrounding a ring of ancient blue. Exhaustion and fear and loathing shone clear on them. It was like a slap to Nathan's face, how familiar those eyes looked.

He could feel the static cutting his skin.

"There are reasons beyond your understanding for why I had to-"

"BULLSH—"

—NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGggggggggg…

The world shifted, and part of Nathan went with it.

The part left behind stumbled as if drunk, hitting his head on a pillar as he tried to not fall face first into the ground. Vomit or blood or something else tried to escape his stomach, only being stopped by the trembling hand he held tight to his mouth.

His eyes couldn't help but wander to the people surrounding him; All terrified of him. All horrified by what he had become for a moment. He almost did throw up in that moment as he saw their wands drawn at him.

"I understand you care deeply for your friend, but there are great things at risk." A voice said faintly, Nathan turning to see the Headmaster talking, not even waiting for Nathan to recover. The old man stood exactly where the Thing—His head hurt as he thought of it—had been. "I cannot prioritize Harry over the greater good."

Ghostly hands appeared on his back and his head, caressing him softly, and it was startling how clear the difference between them was now; The contrast between the warm arms that held him up, and the frigid ones that tried to strangle him.

Nathan forced himself to stand tall, stepping away from the ghosts as he wiped the drool and blood in his chin away.

The static was gone, the ringing had vanished. There was no numbness to fall back to; Only his own fear and anger to make his eyes glow as they glared at Dumbledore.

"You did nothing to help Harry last year."

The accusation slipped like a bullet through his clenched teeth, and Dumbledore sagged and stumbled back like he felt it hit his chest.

"You didn't help him during the tournament, and you left him to rot during the summer. And now you're doing the same shit with Umbridge." Nathan took an unsteady step forwards, one hand still reaching for the pillar in support. One of the ghosts took it instead, and Nathan instantly knew which one it was. "If there's one thing I can do is recognize when a cycle is restarting, and I will not, let it end in disaster again!"

The headmaster aged in front of his eyes, hunching in on himself until they were the same height. Even from the distance that separated them, the glow from Nathan's eyes were enough to illuminate every wrinkle in the man's face; Every evidence of how time had eroded him like a mountain.

"I will not wait for whatever grand plan you have to fail while the people I love suffer." Nathan proclaimed softly, his whisper echoing through the room.

—rrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnn—

—How he wished he had neve-"I didn't expect you"-So very different from how it usua-"That's hell you'r"-A loving caress upo-"NO, no, N"-He walke-"For the… both o"-kept burning in-"I'm afra"-hest burn-"m sor"-vy in his ar-"ve cho"-ll heav-He kept walking—

—nnnnnnggggggggggggg—

Nathan closed his eyes as he felt as his soul shuddered and buckled, countless lives burning through him in an instant, seared into his very being.

He opened his eyes to glare balefully at the ever changing shape that stood behind the Headmaster.

"I will do the same thing I did once before," He pledged to the silence that lay in wait, the ghosts echoing his vow to distant Worlds.

"And you'll fail to stop me again."

…

…..

….

The Thingvanished with a blink, and Nathan released a breath he hadn't been consciously holding, his body sagging in relief. The ghosts were there to catch him before he fell, and Nathan smiled with pain. From the corner of his eyes he saw Dumbledore standing up to his full height, towering over him. He could feel his wizened eyes glaring powerfully over him.

"I'd advise you to not speak like that to me." Dumbledore said calmly, low enough for it to be missed. The shakiness of his voice echoed perfectly into Nathan's ears.

"He wasn't talking to you."

"I wasn't talking to you."

Nathan disentangled himself from the spirits, turning around and walking away, not sparing a glance back as he left the room.

No visions appeared to keep him company as he stumbled through the castle on his way back.

There was no ringing in his ears, no noise in his eyes.

Just peace.

It was a very unfamiliar feeling to him.

That same feeling morphed into something else, equally as unrecognizable. It kept him awake, even as he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep; A strange burning in his chest that talked to him through his bones, telling Nathan to move.

And so he did.

Nathan sat up on his bed, grabbing his sketchbook and the setting sun with one hand, while the other trembled and bled all over the sheets.

It was a vexingly freeing experience, to for once be in complete control as he acted on an entirely nonsensical impulse, opening the last blank page of the novel and smearing blood all over it. He did the same to the last page of his sketchbook.

One last stroke of his bloodied finger over the page, and all energy vanished from him in an instant. He let his tired body fall back on the bed, uncaring of the stains surrounding him.

He fell asleep in an instant, ataraxia twisting his lips into a smile.