Safe and Sound

The night was black. It was the kind of black that was heavy in the sky, making the air feel thick like it was weighing down on you. My lungs felt like they were on fire from some sort of strain, though I could not identify what. Air was hard to breathe in, as I tried to locate my surroundings, head spinning wildly to understood where I was.

Light glazed in the night, far in the distance. The way they hovered in the air like fireflies made me realize I was somewhere on the grounds of the school. Knowing where I was, I turned to my left, the thick, dangerous hedge of the dark forest looming over me, threatening me with it’s menacing height.

The forest made me scoff, rolling my eyes at them. The weight of darkness rose from my shoulders slightly, the burning leaving a bit. The forest seemed angry that I had laughed at it, the trees creaking in the silent wind as I stared at their expanse. They wanted me to fear them, to fear the darkness inside. But they would never be as dark as I was.

Moving forward, I tried to remind myself what I was looking for. The forest welcomed me, and I felt as if a ghostly laugh passed over me, as if the forest knew something I did not. Once again, I was not scared of the dark trees, lined together in a solitary web of evil.

Moving further into the trees, the dark began to melt in around me, almost as if the air was filed with liquid black material. A cool wind fluttered up my neck, like a breath was being taken before the big plunge.

A single yell shot up into the air, somewhere hidden in the forest. The pain the voice held echoed all over the trees, bouncing off of their bark and shooting the sound to another tree, only to have the same result. I felt as if the sound was swirling around me as it died away, but left me unsettled.

Stopping, I listened as the echoes died away. The confidence at which I had entered the forest with had dwindled slightly. Something about the yell had been so familiar, but I couldn’t place my thumb on it.

Raising my foot for another step forward, the yell rang out again, louder and containing more agony. That time the sound registered with my heart, picking up speed and registering with my chest before my brain. My mind went into a full panic, my confidence crumbling as I knew the voice to be Draco’s.

The forest began to laugh at me again, and they stretched up before me, tall and hideously wonderful. I coward from them slightly, feeling their deep laughter rip at me. The scream went up again, and I could do nothing but burst forward, feeling fear creep up my back like the cold from a dementor.

My steps were horridly slow as I tried to locate him, to find Draco. When it seemed that I would never find him, that my running was far to slow, hysteria began to bubble in my chest. Hands were shaking, lips were trembling, breath was quickening.

“Draco!” I yelled, my voice sounding too quiet, the darkness sucking it up like a vacuum. Terror was clutching me. “Draco!”

Cold laughter filtered through the air, laughter that could only belong to one, evil individual. The snarl that came behind me startled me and I whirled around, seeing Voldemort materialize into existence. He seemed to float in the darkness, a haunting face that was one with the black.

“So weak…” he hissed, coming forward and picking me up by the chin. I set my teeth in a locked grimace, glaring at him full force. “You betrayed me, Reagan Potter. You betrayed Draco, and for that…. He must be punished.”

I glared at him, jutting my chin out. “You don’t scare me.”

“No?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side. I bit back the horrible feeling that was working its way into my system, a kind of fear that was untamed and that I had never felt. I was beginning to grow sick, and I felt like my eyes would roll back into my head, but I stared at him. “But you’re scared of Draco dying.”

“No I’m not,” I lied, trying not to let my voice shake. “I lied to him, pretended to love him. Kill him if you will, but the only way to hurt me is to kill my brother. And you won’t. He’ll kill you.”

He frowned. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” I countered.

“Yes,” he smiled, dropping me.

The last thing I heard were Draco’s dying screams.

Fear threw me out of my sleep, my hands clawing to escape from the sheets that had wrapped themselves around me, suffocating me and restraining me from escaping. I practically had a heart attack until the sheets relented, my fingernails ripping through them and launching myself from the bed.

My entire body was shaking as I darted across the room, angling my chin towards the ceiling, seeing the fingerprints on my chin where Voldemort had held me in my dreams. So did that mean Draco was dead? Dying? My panic was fluttering in my chest, so when Hermione walked in the door, I spun around like a lunatic, surprised.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Move!” I bellowed, shooting out past her and down the stairs, not realizing I was crying until I could barely see through my tears, making my way towards the exit. I felt like I was suffocating.

Gasping for air, I crashed to my knees, clutching at my chest. My lungs felt like they were constricting, and I wasn’t sure what to do but pull at the shirt on my shirt, trying to get it away from my chest.

Someone touched me from behind and I spin quickly, throwing sand as I pushed myself away from Hermione, who was looking at me with hurt and confusion. I quickly backed away in the sand, scared of her. I had no idea if this was still another dream, because it still could be. He could be pretending to be her.

“Reagan?” she questioned slowly, reaching out again, just as Voldemort had when he put his claws on me. “It’s just me.”

“How do I know that?” I spat, venom in my voice as I stood up, pulling away from her. There were people at the door, watching my display. “If he touches him, I’ll kill them all. Their families, their loved ones. No one will survive, and I will watch them burn if he touches them.”

Harry took a step off of the porch and I recoiled at the small movement, backing away even more and pointing at him. “Don’t move. Do not touch me until I know I’m not dreaming, until I know he isn’t here.”

“Who?” Harry demanded, fear in his voice. It sounded like Harry, but I couldn’t be sure. “Reagan, what are you off about?”

Tears fell down my face and I covered my face. I heard him take another step forward and my wand was out before I knew it, pointing at my brother. Several other wands were trained on me, but I didn’t care. I stared at my brother, unsure if this was reality or dream.

“Harry,” Hermione said slowly, her eyes floating over to him. “The Dark Lord has been in her head, she has a connection with him, like you.”

“Are you calling me crazy?” I questioned, hands shaking. Maybe I was crazy. “Well, I guess that’s accurate,” I added, blinking and looking at the ground. Everyone had their eyes on my, looking at me like I was some newfound creature that they didn’t understand.

“Reagan,” Harry said slowly, trying to be earnest with me. I looked up at him and into his eyes. They were so green and so like the picture that I had seen of my mother once. I was told I had those same eyes, but I assumed hers held so much more kindness and love. “This is real, you aren’t dreaming.” To prove he wasn’t lying, he flourished his wand, commanding his patronus to life by saying, “Expecto patronum!”

Silver shot out the tip of his wand, forming a beautiful, ethereal stag. It stood proud and ready, pawing at the ground with its mighty hooves. I relaxed slightly, know for a fact that Voldemort could not produce a patronus, and if he could it would not be in the shape of a stag. He also couldn’t imitate a patronus, the spell too pure and natural.

Lowering my wand, I nodded my head, feeling defeated. “I think I’ve gone mad.”

You have my conscience whispered, making me look around for voices that didn’t exist. Simply mad.