The Greywitch Trials | Harry Potter AU

Devastation

Eloise lay awake in a pitch-dark room, staring into the nothingness and willing for her body and mind to slow enough for her to drift into even the lightest sleep. She'd tried counting sheep, and she'd tried counting galloping centaurs. Nothing calmed her hammering heart. With every minute that passed, both excruciatingly slow and horrifyingly fast, she relieved the snatches of memories from her own escape from the Ministry. 

In the time that had passed, she found that much of the experience was lost in the recesses of her mind. The trauma had crippled her with a lack of substantial and linear memories. She remembered the trial and running and blood and horror and the fire, but she didn't remember much else. Most times, she found her dreams held more than she remembered while awake, often recounting the death of Dennis in agonizing detail. 

She was terrified of the possibility that her memories were a prophecy of the fate of her friends. They'd been gone for hours, but she didn't know how long was long enough to be sufficiently worried. 

For the millionth time, Eloise found herself turning over and shuffling about in her already tangled sheets, willing the new position to lull her to sleep. 

It didn't. 

For the briefest moment, she contemplated pressing one of the god-awful pink throw pillows against her face to smother herself into a sense of peace. Alas, passing out of temporary but, anxiety was forever. Horrible, stomach-turning, skin-crawling anxiety. 

A knock sounded against her door, so soft she thought she imagined it. Her body went rigid. She considered the possibility that it was a figment of her imagination but resigned herself to the possibility of looking like a fool all alone. 

The stone floor was cool under her bare feet, shocking her exhausted body into a further sense of wakefulness as she crept to the door. The room was lit only by the flickering coals of a dying fire, but she knew the space well enough after her late-night excursions to expel the contents of her stomach post-nightmare. 

With a flutter of nervousness in her gut, Eloise hauled the door open. She inhaled sharply when she took in the sight of the tall figure. He was so close, his hand raised as if to knock again. 

Before she could say anything, long arms wrapped around her shoulders and her face was pressed against living, breathing flesh. 

"Charlie?" Her voice was muffled against the fabric of his jumper. "What happened? Is everyone alright? Susan? Ginny?"

He nodded against her neck before burrowing deeper against her skin, inhaling deep breaths faster and faster. 

Eloise wrapped her arms around his waist and walked the two of them further into her room, kicking the door closed behind them. It fell closed with a soft thunk. 

"Was it a success then? You found who you were looking for?"

When he didn't respond, she pulled away. It was difficult to extricate herself from his tight hold, but she managed to get a hold of his face, her hands on either cheek as she stared into sorrowful eyes. "What happened, Charlie?"

"I - " His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked dazedly, "I ... can I just hold you for a while?"

Eloise's heart shattered into a thousand pieces. She swallowed the burn of her throat and took hold of his hand, leading him to her dishevelled bed. They were silent as they burrowed beneath the covers, silent as he pulled her body against his chest and wrapped his arms around her like he feared her being stolen out of his hands. 

Eloise turned her head against his collarbone and pressed her left palm to his chest over his heart, feeling the pounding beats against her skin. 

When his breathing slowed, and his heart steadied, only then did her muscles loosen and her heart mend itself. Shortly after he succumbed to sleep, she did as well, comforted by the knowledge that her friends were safe.