Dangerously Close

”Rosalie…” the snake like voice whispered in my head.

I shifted a little bit, trying to shake the voice out of my thoughts. The cold, raspy, voice that was constantly invading my nightmares.

”Ah, Nagini says that our conversation is no longer private anymore.”

The old man was still peering through the door, listening on the conversation and eyeing everything that was going on inside the Riddle house.

I could make out a man I had only found out about last year, a man that I despised deeply, Wormtail, open the door. The old man walked in, and began to yell things about murdering innocent Harry and Rosalie Potter and threatening on calling the police.

The image had suddenly changed itself. I was no longer seeing the elder who walked with a cane, the snake, Wormtail, or the other mysterious person.

A name echoed through McGonagall’s voice. My body seemed to freeze in shock, and I could feel the whole Hall suddenly tense up as the name slipped her lips.

“Harry Potter.”

If eyes weren’t on Harry, they were on me. Everyone knew he was alive. Everyone knew I thought that he had died in the hands of Voldemort that night. If I could have been less pessimistic about it, and opened up my mind and wrapped it around the possibility that Harry was still alive before, I wouldn’t be like this right now.

How could I have been so stupid?

I heard the hat yell, “Gryffindor!” The whole table erupted in cheers and applause, standing up to welcome the Chosen One into their house. I didn’t bother to stand up or let alone clap. I didn’t have the strength to move.

But when everyone sat down, I found that energy in me to go.

The next thing I knew, the image had once again faded and I was greeted with yet another one.

”Wormtail, turn my chair around. I believe I must greet our guest properly.”

Wormtail nodded, mumbling a simple, “Yes, my Lord,” before reaching for the chair, turning it around.

I could feel the sweat coming off of me as I tossed and turned in my sleep, mumbling for mercy on the poor man. I wasn’t able to see the face, as then an image I had rather kept hidden deeply inside my mind re-appeared.

”Ah, Rosalie Potter. How could I forget? Sister of the Boy Who Lived,” Tom Riddle’s voic spoke. “How nice to see you again.’

I stood there astonished, next to Harry. I knew all too well who the man in front of me was. Although Harry might not have been able to comprehend as quickly he was standing before the prior Lord Voldemort, it didn’t take long for me to know.

I would know those cold remarks anywhere.

And with that, the image was gone, and met by one that I would rather die than relive.

“No, please,” I mumbled, begging to nothing.

My mother threw me an apologetic look, knowing I was watching from behind the wall of Harry’s nursery. She mouthed “I love you” and turned to Harry, trying to protect him.

With his wand pointed up, I watched as the cloaked figure laughed darkly and yelled the spell.

“Please,” I was now screaming. I couldn’t bear it. I gripped my head, squinting my eyes shut as hard as I could, trying to shake away the horrid memory.

The chair turned around. For a millisecond, I could see an unhuman-like, small body that had such pale skin it appeared to have a blue, pearly glow.

But the figure was immediately replaced as a wand was lifted up by this figure, emitting a bright jet light of green.

“Avada Kedavra.”

And with that, I woke up.