We Can't Wake Up

Marcus wandered out of the castle and down towards the lake. He could feel the Resurrection Stone in his pocket. When he reached the clearing, Marcus took the stone from his pocket and turned it.

Voldemort and Bellatrix appeared before him again. Voldemort already knew what Marcus had done.

“I met him,” Marcus said quietly.

Voldemort nodded and paused thoughtfully. “Not yet Marcus, you are not ready.” With that, they disappeared.

Marcus slipped the stone back into his pocket and turned around. Anne stood at the edge of the clearing, her face a clear picture of pain. Her eyes were filled with a desperate plea.

But Marcus would not show anything. He kept his face blank; his eyes as were hard and cold and dark as a winter night.

Anne’s lips slowly parted, no words came out. She closed her mouth and nervously licked her lips. Marcus’ heart thudded as he remembered the feel of her lips against his, the feel of her hair in his hands.

He narrowed his eyes menacingly and forced the memories from his mind. He would not allow himself to be overcome; would not allow himself to touch her, hold her, or even speak to her. Marcus was a proud person, and though he would never admit it, the sight of Percy and Anne together, even if they had only been talking, struck him hard like a sword through his stomach.

They stood staring at each other. The space seemed greater than the mere twenty feet that separated them. It seemed miles long, filled up with everything he wanted to say to her but would not allow himself to and everything she wanted.

The silence dragged on, only a faint whistle through the trees. Anne’s right hand twitched at her side, Marcus could see her forcing herself to hold onto the side of her jumper. With his eyes narrowed and frightening, Anne could hardly breathe. Never had she seen anything more exquisite, more…..perfect and terrifying.

The hold that Marcus seemed to have over her was what truly terrified Anne; the fact that she just couldn’t stop herself returning to him, time and time again. She stood before him; desperate to be in his arms but desperate to run away, to get away from him. Her heart thudded loudly and her lips were dry from nervousness.

Marcus held her gaze dispassionately as he advanced towards her.

“Marcus….” Anne said weakly when he was next to her.

Then he had swept past, into the dark, swallowing forest.