Safe and Sound

So, how do you feel, now that you’ve killed them all? I liked my lips, rubbing my hands on my legs. I was sitting on the small bed that had been claimed my room, looking out the window. My hands moved up and down my legs nervously, trying to get rid of the sweat beading on them. Next time go get yourself blown up, twat.

It had been like this for an entire day now. The voice, a cold echo of the dark one that used to be my own, was haunting me. I knew that it was my former self come back to life, my old spirit hovering somewhere in my soul, trying to claw it’s way free. And it was making me mad. Or it was the other way around.

Chewing on my lip, I continued the motion with my hands. Or maybe that was just my natural thought. Maybe I still was that dark, twisted witch that I had been before. After all, only dark witches turn on the people she loves and leaves them for dead. Some person I was.

I closed my eyes, breathing. Inhaling. Rubbing my hands. Licking my lips. Do you think closing your eyes will make you blind to what you are? the voice was cackling in my head, making me shake with emotion. Reeeaagann…. Reeaagaaan.

“Stop it!” I whispered, squeezing my eyes tighter. I was trying to erase the voice from my brain, trying to locate it’s source. But I could not find where it was coming from because it was me and only me. There was no one else. There would never be anyone else. I was alone. “Why are you here? Why are you torturing me?”

Because you torture me, it hissed. The voice was only an image of my own, tainted like black, inky pools of acid. I could almost see myself in my minds eye, the dark kohled eyes and the green dark and murky. My old eyes. Or was I looking at my eyes now? Because you pain me with the dreams of being good, of sentimentality. You know you are evil Reagan. Why pretend?

I shook my head, trying to expel the voices. More whispers were entering my head. “Just leave. You aren’t wanted.”

YOU aren’t wanted. The snarl made me flinch. I lay on the bed, covering my face with my hands. A sob escaped my throat. It was raw. Had I been screaming? You saw the way he looked at you. You saw the hate, now use it! Kill those down stairs. They did this to you, they took away your power. They killed Draco.

“You’re lying.”

YOU’RE LYING. You’re lying to yourself. You are a murder.

“No.”

MURDERER.”

“NO!”

The breath went from the room like it does in a lightning storm, the static crackling in the air before it explode outwards with the cry leaving my throat. The windows blew out, the sound of glass being tossed into millions of shards filling my ears, drowning out the sound of the voices for a moment.

Everything in the room had been blast apart, and I lay on the floor, covering my ears, sobbing. I was so sick of this, so sick of everything. I could do nothing right. My own mind was attacking me.

The door to the room opened but I ignored it. I knew they thought I was a monster. And I was. I wished so badly that I could defeat the monster inside of me, but it was coming out more than ever. How could I beat something that was a part of me? Could I banish a part of me? I had no idea.

*
Third Person

Harry knew something was wrong when his scar started to hurt. It was only a few moments after he clutched his forehead that they heard the explosion from upstairs. His heart began to hammer as he bolted up the stairs, wand drawn and everyone following him. It didn’t take a genius to know it came from Reagan’s room.

Throwing open the door, Harry stopped short. Everything in the room was destroyed. Black scorch marks were all over the walls and the floor, the glass from the window gone completely as the wind tumbled in through the windows, blowing the smell of smoke around.

Reagan sat in the middle of it all, a small thing on the floor. She was clutching her hands over her ears, as if trying to get a sound out. He didn’t know what was wrong with her, but it was clearly that Reagan had suddenly become mentally unstable, and he felt his heart begin to shatter as he took a step towards her.

The simple sound of his footstep alerted her, and she jerked up, looking at him. Her eyes were wide with hostility, and her lip curled. Then suddenly the expression was gone, a scowl taking over as her eyes flit to the side. She looked like she was having a conversation with someone silently, which struck Harry as odd.

“Shut up,” she hissed, not looking at any of them. “No one asked you.”

“We haven’t said anything,” Ron answered, obviously confused. Harry glanced at his best mate, who looked at Reagan like she was a new specimen.

“Not you, idiot. Me.”

“Me, what?”

“Not you, me.”

“Wait, what?”

“Ronald,” Hermione cut in, shutting him up. She gave him a hard look and he shrugged, stepping back a bit. He seemed to be absolutely lost in his strange argument with Harry’s sister. Leaning down, Hermione leveled her gaze with Reagan. “Reagan, who are you talking to?”

The Potter girl’s green eyes flicked to Hermione. She opened her mouth and closed it a few times, resembling a fish. Harry remained silent, knowing that whatever Hermione was doing was with purpose. “Myself… I’m talking to myself- don’t call her that.”

Hermione winced, knowing that whoever Reagan was talking to had called her a very unkind name. “Are you hearing voices, Reagan?”

It took the girl several minute before she could not her head. She opened her mouth and snapped it shut again. Harry realized she was having trouble speaking, obviously at war within herself. It was something Harry had never seen before, and he was mortally afraid. “What’s wrong with her Hermione? What have they done?”

Hermione stood and gave him a mournful look. She looked on the verge of tears, shaking her head. “It’s something absolutely barbaric, and old. I imagine he only did it because of who she is.”

“What have they done to my sister, Hermione?”

She looked at her best friend in the eyes. “He’s placed a curse on her. If she ever broke away from the Death Eaters, the curse would begin… it would start to attack her mind. It’s called the Duarum Mentiumases curse. It causes someone to have split personality within.”

Harry’s green eyes went to his sister. She was watching them, but not comprehending. It seemed like the fight was still going on in her mind. “How do we fix it, then?”

A single tear slid town Hermione’s porcelain face. “That’s just it. We can’t.”