𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

Reverie's POV

It was dark.

And cold.

And damp.

It was a proper prison, with it's walls made of black stone, caging me and allowing no light to come in from anywhere but the small window on the top.
There was a wooden door, but I never liked it, because that was where they came through.
I hated it here, I wanted to go home, but I didn't have one for Arrington Abbey had been reduced to ashes, right in front of my eyes. All I was grateful for, was that my parents hadn't been there to see it happen.

Time passed slowly in the Order's prison cell. Yes, I was a prisoner in the Order of Phoenix's hideout.

I don't know how long I had been here but I did know that I was in East Devon, in the Prewett Hall.
I didn't try to escape, I wasn't stupid.
And besides, I couldn't perform any magic, my wand was in their possession and I wasn't able to perform wandless magic.
Because they were taking away my magic bit by bit, my magic core was weakening.

I felt weak.

And pathetic.

Powerless.

I hated feeling powerless.

Suddenly, I heard the dreadful sound of the creaking of the wooden door.

"Oi Arrington, come on now, it's time for your little session" said Fred Weasley, pulling me away from my thoughts.

I pulled down my ragged white robe as my scarred feet reluctantly followed the redhead into what I called the 'torture room'.

He opened the iron gates and a room similar to the prison cell only bigger, came into view.
The Order realized long ago that there wasn't much information they could extract from me, not to mention, they didn't really have a skilled Legilimens either. So, they had switched to magic extraction. It was obvious that the most precious thing for a witch is her magic, and they were having the time of their life extracting it from my magical core, fiber by fiber.

It felt like I was being ripped apart every time a fiber of magic left my body, it felt like I was giving away a part of myself.

"Come on then, hurry up. You know what to do" said the Weasley, gesturing to a wooden armchair that sat in the darkest corner of the room.

My bare feet ached as I slowly walked towards the 'torture chair' and my mind was screaming at me to run away. I could probably, but my magical core was very weak, and my body was very close to giving out.

I slowly sat down on the chair as I felt the Weasley's impatient stare on me with his wand pointed right at me, least I think of escaping.

"Very good, Arrington" he said with a disgusting smirk 

"Let's get started, shall we?"

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, waiting for the excruciating pain.

But, it never came, and so I opened my eyes just in time to see the wooden door blast into pieces and a familiar uniform come into view.

Death Eaters.

They had ambushed the Order.

I could hear the Weasley's screams as he was shot with a cruciatus curse.

As he recovered from the pain, he grabbed his wand and tried to curse me but his incantation was  cut off by a swift 'Avada Kedavra' from the Death Eater.

I tried to analyse him, he certainly wasn't a senior Death Eater, but I couldn't make out much with his hood.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew exactly who he was, I just didn't want to accept it.
'He would never come here for me'

I didn't realize that I had closed my eyes until his silky smooth voice forced me to open them.

"Arrington, let's move" he said, as he removed his mask, to reveal a face that I dreamed of everyday.

I really couldn't help the smile that came upon my lips, but his grey eyes remained stoic.

Suddenly, I was thrown back in time

❝ 𝗬𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗮 𝗺𝘂𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗿! 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗸𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿, 𝗜 𝘀𝗮𝘄 𝗶𝘁! 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗸𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝗲 ❞
he spat, his hands shaking with fury and his eyes welling up with tears.

❝𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗣 𝗜𝗧! 𝗜'𝗠 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗔 𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗥!❞
I shouted, my heart wrenching with pain and head spinning with anxiety.

❝ 𝗜'𝗺 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝗺𝘂𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗿 ❞
I whispered, partly to myself and partly to the boy I loved.

❝ 𝙇𝙞𝙖𝙧. 𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ❞
he said and broke my heart beyond repair.

My smile faltered at the flashback, and a tear slid down my pale cheek but he didn't seem to notice.
He sighed and offered me his hand.

I tried to stand but winced as my bare feet came in contact with the ruble.
I reached out to his hand.

It was cold.

It was damp.

And then everything went dark.