Chapter 31 - Heaven's divide

A tear escaped from his eyes and broke the dam of his emotions with such strength that his legs gave out, the stone wall behind him the only thing slowing his descent.

The girl in his arms took her turn to hold him as tenderly as she could, calling his name in worry. All he could do was say the name of the man he had let die-they had let die-as the warm girl comforted him through her own pain.

They cried together on the mud, feeling the whole weight of their grief as if it were the first day. It felt like he would never be able to stop his pained wails now that he had started.

The rain kept falling around them, doing nothing to hide their tears.

…

…..

….

"Do you think it has ever rained here?" He posed the question, gaze glued to the unnerving fractured blues of the 'sky', even as he kept walking.

"Never," His quiet companion answered softly from a few paces back, and he knew her eyes were glued to the dark ground they trod upon.

He forced himself to look down, pensieve gaze trying to see into the horizon of nothingness. If he squinted hard enough, the noise in the edge of his eyes would take over, creating mountains and forests and towering structures in the far distance. "Have you been here by yourself for a long time?"

"I dunno," She said quietly, only heard because he stopped to let her pass by. He watched her drag her feet, carving lines into the ashen sand; Lines that disappeared after a few more steps from her. "Don' remember."

One of his hands was already covering his mouth when Nathan awoke, gut wrenching sobs trying to escape him. The muscles in his stomach cramped as he curled himself into a tight ball, willing away the grief with the little energy he left.

A pair of eyes peeked at him through a gap in his curtains, their glow calming and grounding, until, after a long moment, he felt his sore body relax into the bed.

He blinked, and the eyes were gone.

Nathan forced himself to get up, in spite of his aching bones, swinging the curtains open slowly to not make much noise.

The ghosts were already there, all gazing at him with worry, and the drapes covering the bed that sat beside his moved to reveal Harry, with the same look in his eyes.

"I'm okay," Nathan whispered hoarsely before his friend could say anything, "Just need to use the bathroom."

Harry kept looking at him, scanning his appearance. When he found no reason to doubt Nathan, he nodded, and closed his curtains back shut.

Nathan sighed softly, limping over to the bathroom, where he knew the ghosts wouldn't follow.

The cold water of the sink did nothing to the tear tracks that seemed glued to his cheeks, nor did it seem to get rid of the scars that now littered his skin. Then Nathan blinked, and the scars were gone; But the tears remained.

He stepped out of the bathroom, grabbing his sketchbook and a pencil from his bag, closing himself off in his bed, trying to capture the haunting shine of the eyes of a little girl in a drawing; The same nauseous glow that he saw in the mirror earlier, and that now illuminated the pages.

It was a struggle to keep the thoughts in his head straight nowadays.

The insanity driving routine of his life continued on as they returned to the castle, but saying the days blurred together would be an incredible lie.

More and more worries piled on his plate. Umbridge and her decrees. The ramping difficulty of keeping up with the DA. The nightmares...

Just as he found some small semblance of peace in the small space between the ghosts and him, the nightmares ramped up. Now he woke up screaming and choking most of the time. Now Harry woke up screaming most of the time.

Watching himself slowly decay through the mirror was nauseating.

Watching Harry go through the same was heartbreaking.

You wont break, You wont break, The wind whispered.

Though, at least, at the very, very least, the same repetition that cost a little of Nathan's mind everyday seemed to bring comfort to his friend. Their routine of exercises, his teaching 'gig', all seemed to bring a little more strength to the brooding boy even as the world tried to bring him down.

Nathan jumped in fright as a hand dropped on his shoulder, Hermione entering his vision a moment after. He regained control of his breath as subtly as he could, forcing a smile on his face. Hermione frowned at him.

"Are yo-"

"'m fine." Nathan drawled, wincing at the weird echo in his voice.

With a scoff, Hermione stepped closer to straighten his shirt and tie. Up close the amber flecks in her alluring eyes almost distracted him from the redness that took over her sclera.

All of his friends seemed to have the same exhausted countenance, even Luna, and he knew without doubt that some of it was his fault. A part of him selfishly begged for the return of the days before he had told them about his visions.

Days where they looked at him and didn't see a broken man.

Cold-warm hands touched his shoulders gently, bringing his arm up as he finished the motion to hold Hermione by her waist. Her affronted look turned his grin genuine. She scoffed, Looking away and stepping closer so they could walk.

"Did you finish the potions homework?" Hermione asked in an attempt to start a conversation.

"Nope!" He said with all the cheer he had to fake, popping the 'p'.

"Nate!"

"Sorry, but it's a fight to not fall asleep when I try to do homework, " And as if to prove him right an yawn assaulted him at that moment, deep enough that it blurred his vision for a moment.

His eyes cleared and Nathan turned to Hermione, perturbed by her sudden silence and the shine of tears in her eyes. "Why didn't you ask for help?"

Nathan frowned, entirely against being even more of a burden to her—

rrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiIIIIIINNNNNNNNNN—

White noise flared to life around him. It took over everything in his vision as he felt his head turn to a random direction, the static clearing up enough to reveal Professor Firenze walking in their direction as he gazed at the windows.

The centaur turned his head to face them, expression flashing to a beastly snarl for a single moment, before transforming back into forced neutrality as he took a corner, glaring venomously at him from the corner of his eye, before vanishing.

NNNNNNNNNNGGGGgggg—

Hermione's stricken visage was the first thing he saw as the ringing vanished.

"Nate?! Nathan?! What's happening!?"

"I'm fine, just—got really dizzy for a sec," He spoke quickly and curtly as he stepped away from the wall he had fallen into at one point. The echo in his voice was stronger. "Need to go to the bathroom real quick."

"Are you sure you're okay? Do you need to go to the hospital wing?" She fretted over him, warm hand burning where it touched his arm.

"I'll be fi-fine." He winced at his stutter as he waved off her worries, already walking away in the same direction the professor had gone. "Go on without me!"

From the corner of his eyes, in the same manner the centaur had done, Nathan saw Hermione, eyes blazing with heartbreak even from a distance. With another step the wall cut her from his field of vision.

And he started running.

Weaving through the students and ghosts, he sprinted as fast as he could, reaching speeds that shouldn't be possible with his battered body. But adrenaline fueled him, and weird instincts pushed him forward, even as the cold hands couldn't decide if they pushed or pulled at his body.

He paid none of it any mind, all of his focus taken by the image stuck in his brain, of the professor glaring at him, even though they had never met each other before.

And this was the second time!

Corner after corner after corner Nathan turned, eyes flitting madly at every point of the hallways he flew through. His whole chest ached, lungs burning with need for air the same as his legs begged for rest, but he wouldn't stop.

He couldn't stop!

Not when the professor was the closest lead to answers to his situation he had come across in weeks!

The corner of his eyes became darker and darker the more his lungs burned, but Nathan wouldn't stop, he would not!—

His feet snagged on stone and Nathan tumbled down hard. He flipped and twisted with enough force to dislocate something and bruise everything else.

He felt none of it, too numb and tired, as he tried to catch his breath and rise from the ground and hold his tears at bay. He succeeded in two of his tasks.

As Nathan slowly walked back to the way he came, one scraped hand using the wall as a crutch, he tried not to choke on the bitter feeling of hope that tried to drown him in that moment, unfamiliar and raw as it felt in the back of his throat.

And still, the world whispered You won't break.

"Okay, everyone," Started Harry, "You've all made incredible progress these last few meetings! I'm sure all of you will get the spell today!"

Nathan kept his eyes closed, listening from the back wall as the students shuffled around the room.

"Are you ready?"

He cracked open an eye, turning his face downwards to face a frowning and still Luna. He frowned back.

"Yeah…" He started softly, only to hear his voice reverb like a shout into a cave. He pushed away from the cold wall without looking at his friend's perceptive eyes. He settled in a corner, Luna and Neville standing close by, all three beginning to even their breathing.

The patronus, according to the book he read after the first practice meeting of the spell, was created to ward off dementors, feeding them magic suffused with the caster's positive emotions in place of their souls. The casting relies on drawing said emotions from your psyche, usually by relieving joyful memories.

Nathan had yet to have a successful cast.

With his eyes closed, he focused warmth in his chest, uncomfortable and stifling as it was earlier in the day..

Air left his lungs sharply as he felt tiny hands touch his chest. The image of a warm hearth, warmer eyes, and the color brown flitted through his mind for a single moment, vanishing in the next.

Nathan opened his eyes to a small girl in front of him, looking as real as anyone else in the room. Something about her appearance was hauntingly familiar.

She smiled gently at him, and in spite of himself, he offered a small smile back.

"Whoa!"

Nathan jumped in fright, only to see Neville looking with wide eyes at the shifting mist at the tip of his wand. So used to incorporeal forms, Nathan immediately saw the shape that was trying to form from the cloud of the spell.

"You're doing well, Neville!" Harry said as he approached, one hand patting Neville on the back. "A few more tries and you'll get it!"

Neville beamed, back straightening slightly as he cut the spell. He turned to Nathan, still wide eyes searching for something. Nathan gave him a big forced smile and a thumbs up, and his friend's eyes shined brighter as he cast the spell once more, the shape of his patronus coming out even clearer.

Nathan looked away, unable to look anymore, jealousy and something else now serving as the reason his chest felt warm.

His eyes fell to the girl in surprise, part of him having expected her to have vanished. Her kind smile never left her face, as she grabbed hold of his hand with the wand in it, pulling it upwards until his arm was parallel to the ground and ready to cast the spell. She let go of him and stepped aside, joining the other familiar ghosts that had appeared.

He blinked, and for a moment in her place stood the little girl that haunted all of his dreams nowadays. Her smile was small but just as loving as he remembered it being.

He blinked, and she got replaced with the girl from before.

With a rattling breath, Nathan let his eyes slowly fall shut. Happy memories, happy memories, he thought fervently. His mind wandered through all he had lived and he could remember, in and outside of the castle.

The mornings where he ran from the static, where he would bump into Krum. Becoming friends with Neville as they read a book covered in white noise about plants. Luna talking over the ringing in his ears about her still undiscovered creatures.

"Expecto Patronum!" Nathan intoned, voice echoing, opening his eyes with hope, only to see barely any mist coming out of his wand, falling to the ground and condensing something that wasn't a patronus.

It's okay, It's okay, the ghosts said gently.

You won't break.

It's okay, It's okay, he repeated to himself, trying not to focus on the visions. Nathan closed his eyes again.

His knitting meetings with Hermione where he tried to see what he had created through the white noise. That snowy day with Harry where they played and played in the snow and static. The quiet moments in his room where he tried to hear the sound of his guitar through the ringing.

"Expecto Patronum!" Nathan shouted louder, more forcefully, with more reverb, willing the spell to work. Nothing changed, but the shapes moving by his feet grew in numbers, becoming more solid.

It's okay, one more time, the spirits encouraged softly.

You won't break.

You won't break.

You can do it, you can do it, he repeated to himself like a mantra, trying to drown out the ghostly choir's voices. His eyes stayed glued to the ground, watching the mist gathered twist into ethereal feathers and beaks and eyes that all looked at him.

Nathan forced his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. C'mon, just focus, he told himself as he brought his wand to bear. Remember during break, when you went around a bunch of places with Harry? Or when you visited Neville and Luna?

He could remember every detail; The sound of the rain as he played for Luna, the smell in Neville's garden, how happy Harry was to go to places he had never been to. He remembered when he'd turn to them just to see their smiles and instead saw static covering them and hearing the infernal ringing as they spoke—

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

His words echoed loudly, a thousand voices in his single one.

But the result was still the same.

The floor was covered by birds, ominous and staring right at him. Still, he did not look up. He could feel the burning in his eyes, and if he were to see the pity in the ghosts' faces, he would break.

You won't break

You won't break

YOu WoN't BrEaK

Nathan screwed his eyes shut till they hurt in the hopes of stopping the tears, hating himself for how much he was begging for the loathsome ringing to come back and deafen him.

His arm trembled as it pointed forwards. "Just, focus—Remember when you painted that mural with Sirius?" He whispered to himself, voice still echoing in the air.

I do. I remember I had to keep repainting the parts Sirius messed up and that something is supposed to be behind the white noise.

He forced his eyes shut even more, hunching over himself. "What—what about that time with the Thestrals."

I remember how rested I woke up, how cold the static felt as I pet it and the strange ringing noise it made.

He was breathing erratically, filling his lungs with oxygen that didn't seem to come to him, trying not to cry. "And—and Hermione—with the scarf."

I can never forget it. Nor can I forget how pretty the static looked as it covered her face and the ringing that was her voice—

Nathan felt a thousand cold hands pry open his eyelids against his will, forcing him to gaze at a veritable isle of spectral birds that made it impossible to see the ground they stood on.

They all looked upon him with eyes like his own.

They all waited for him to take flight.

YOU WON'T BREAK

YOU WON'T BREAK

YOU WON'T BREAK

"Expecto Patronum…" He whispered, the only strength in his words coming from the ghosts that now inhabited his voice.

.

…

…..

Nothing came out of his wand.

…..

…

.

Nathan dropped his arm, head bowed to the ground. One by one, the birds vanished, their gazes never leaving him.

Some part of him knew he would never see them return.

Why would they, when there was nothing here for them?

The static had blurred the smiles of his friends.

The ringing in his ears made it impossible to hear the jokes that made him laugh in bleak times.

The new memories he created during his waking hours were drowned viciously by the fear and pain of remembrance of the old ones.

Nathan felt the cold hands force his head up, and he knew he was supposed to be seeing the kind eyes of the ghosts through his tears.

All he saw was heart wrenching pity.

He let go of the cold wand in his hands, but his shame stuck to his hand, like the ethereal fabric wrapped around the wood that now tangled viciously through his fingers.

The tears stopped long enough so he could see Neville and Luna gazing at him, and Nathan burned with shame at how their gazes mirrored the ghosts'.

Otters and dogs and bunnies flew around the room, illuminating it in a soft blue glow and bringing a warmth that could never be replicated.

Nathan felt none of it through the static.

You won't break, you won't break, you won't break—

The voices kept intoning the words ad nauseum, throwing his own layered voice back at him as Nathan roamed the desolate castle halls. There was no possibility of him being able to sleep that night. He'd much rather lie awake in misery in his own private room.

Nathan turned away as he saw shadows moving in the corner of his eyes. He hated himself for reverting back to old habits, but he couldn't bear to see any of the spirits right now. So he closed his eyes and walked faster.

But there was no running away from his own mind; Not even the small pieces of it that still held any sanity. He continued to torture himself over the Patronus, images of the pitiful amounts of mist that he had conjured flashing in his brain. He doubted a dementor would be distracted for even a millisecond by his spell.

Although at this point, he thought morosely to himself, even that pitiable 'patronus' might be more appealing than my soul.

Nathan stopped, leaning on a wall for support, glassy and glowing eyes focusing on the beautiful full moon that hung in the sky.

…

…..

….

"God, I'm fuckin' pathetic…" He whispered to himself, trying and failing to make his voice not echo weirdly.

"On that, we can agree."

Nathan turned in an instant, almost twisting his ankle, as one arm was raised and poised to attack, itching with energy.

You won't break, you won't break—

"Attack me if you dare," Firenze said stoically, towering over Nathan even from a distance, "and we shall see if your Might has stayed."

At a complete loss for words, Nathan slowly lowered his arm, stepping back to lean against the wall. Still, his arm itched with residual power.

"What—Do you—" Nathan stumbled over his words, mind a frenetic jumble of wild thoughts and memories and distorting noise, hand unwittingly scratching his scars, "Did I—did I do something to you?"

Those seemed to be the wrong words, as the centaur's face slowly contorted into a sneer of pure disdain, the wrinkles in his nose and forehead turning his dignified appearance into that of a feral beast's.

"A fools play at innocence does not merit forgiveness," Firenze scoffed, full of condescension and hatred. "nor would it draw pity out of me."

Nathan flinched back, the jagged stones digging painfully into his skin. "I don't—I don't know what you're saying!" He could feel the blood soaking his fingers from the wounds he had carved into his arm, "What do you mean?!"

The fearsome man advanced slowly, the clicking of his hooves on the stone floor akin to a giant blade dragged on foggy pavement. Nathan stood rooted to his spot, all but his eyes frozen, his hand stuck in its painful grip on his bleeding forearm, as the creature studied his face with a terrifying gaze.

"...you do not remember." Firenze whispered, face slackening, right before he growled into Nathan's face, spittle flying from between his barred fangs. His lips twitched between a great smile of amusement and a deep snarl of pure loathing, "You suffer, and yet you do not remember for what reason!"

At that moment, with his face lit up by hues of green and blues from Nathan's glowing eyes, the man did not look like a centaur, but one of his terrifying nightmares.

youwontbreakyouwontbreakyoUWONTBREAK

The Thing kept glaring at him from close enough to bite his face off, and for a moment Nathan thought it would. Abruptly, the beast jerked aside, looking as if a single moment more in close proximity would force It to vomit in revulsion.

Shivers wracked his bones as Nathan watched the beast turn to walk away, and his whole being came in conflict with itself, paralyzed with fear but screaming at himself to not let the opportunity go, to do something!

YOUWONTBREAKYOUWONT—

Cold-warm hands touched his back, pushing him forwards, his blood soaked hand grasping at the centaurs arm with all the energy he had left in him.

"Tell me what you know," Nathan forced out the words, ignoring the despair that roiled in his gut as the creatures hand clenched and unclenched, mounting rage making his whole body shake. "Please…"

….

Firenze jerked his arm free, but stayed rooted on his spot, glaring forwards. "Unlike you, I would not dare interfere with The Worlds plans," The professor spat, hooves stomping the floor as he walked away, the sound akin to gunshots, cutting right through the static buzzing in the air. "Even if I had the answers you seek."

Nathan felt his knees buckle as he fell to the ground, shirt tearing as it snagged in the wall. His gaze was glued to the retreating form of the centaur, but from the corner of his eyes he could see the puddle of blood that fell from the hole in his arm, where his hand incessantly still clawed at.

"Pray you'll one day find mercy and answers in one of your destinations, Wanderer." Firenze growled one last time, red eyes glaring fiercely at Nathan as he turned, before vanishing over the corner.

…

…..

….

Nathan laid sprawled over the ground, despair and numbness taking over. He didn't feel the pain of his bleeding arm or of his scraped back, or the cold-warm hands that raised him from the ground, practically carrying his limp body through the corridor till they reached his private room.

They moved his hand, forcing him through the motion of twisting the handle so he could open the door, pushing him foot forward so he could enter the room—

rrrrrriiiiiIIIIIIINNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG—

A room transformed to the void, no sound, no air to breathe.

Just a single lost flower, glowing eyes staring right at him.

"What did I do?"

Nathan blacked out before he could hit the ground.