cigarette daydream || james potter

"Lookin' for the answers in the pourin' rain,"

The relentless biting chill of the winter winds had finally begun its slow, welcome retreat from the high stone battlements of the castle, and the seemingly endless, suffocatingly dark nights were gradually being replaced by the gentle promise of spring. The transformation across the Hogwarts grounds was breathtaking; the skeleton-like branches of the ancient trees in the Forbidden Forest were rapidly burgeoning with fresh, vibrant green leaves, and brilliant wildflowers began to bloom in colorful clusters all across the sloping lawns. It wouldn't be long now until the brisk mountain air warmed into balmy afternoon breezes, and with the changing of the seasons came the quiet approach of a bittersweet milestone-the Lupin twins' birthday. Yet, despite the peaceful rebirth of the world outside, the internal shadows that haunted Estella refused to lift quite so easily.

One particularly suffocating night, when the grand Gryffindor common room had fallen completely silent and the embers of the hearth were nothing but ash, Estella lay flat on her back in the sanctuary of her four-poster bed. Her dark eyes were wide open, staring restlessly up into the heavy velvet canopy above her. Outside the safety of her curtains, Oliver was curled into a tight ginger ball at the foot of her mattress, his soft, rhythmic purring a comforting anchor in the quiet room, but her own brain refused to cooperate. Her mind raced in the dark, weaving disjointed thoughts and tracing invisible, chaotic shapes across the ceiling of the shadowed dormitory. She was entirely exhausted-bone-deep, soul-tired-and yet sleep remained a cruel, unreachable luxury. Closing her eyes with desperate force, she scrunched her face up and willed her consciousness to slip away, praying that the sheer weight of her fatigue would drag her under.

But the night had far more malicious plans for her. As a light, cool breeze tapped rhythmically against the glass windowpane of the tower, Estella's breathing began to fracture, growing shallow and heavy as her eyebrows knitted together in sheer distress. The moment her eyelids fully closed, the familiar walls of Hogwarts dissolved, and she found herself standing entirely alone under a vast, ink-black sky where a monstrous full moon shone with a blinding, silver brilliance. She couldn't tell where she was; the darkness was absolute, thick, and suffocating, wrapping around her ankles like cold water. Suddenly, a violent, blood-chilling howl ripped through the dead silence, causing her to flinch so violently that the phantom pain reverberated through her ribs. She scanned the swirling mist frantically, her heart hammering wildly against her sternum, until a pair of predatory yellow eyes materialized in the gloom. They were cold, malicious, and entirely bloodthirsty, boring right into her soul. Then came the sound that truly broke her-a piercing, desperate scream of sheer agony that she knew would never, ever be erased from her mind. It was Remus's voice.

With a choked gasp, Estella suddenly jumped away from the nightmare, sitting bolt upright in her tangled sheets. Her skin felt entirely on fire, her cheeks burning a hot, furious red as her breath hitched in ragged, frantic gasps. Hot, heavy teardrops immediately welled in her dark eyes, collecting thickly along her eyelashes until her vision was nothing but a blurry, watery smear of shadows. Realizing with absolute certainty that sleep was completely out of the question for the rest of the night, her mind drifted back to the tranquil, sweeping fields surrounding her cottage in Wales, where she used to take quiet midnight walks just to feel grounded. Seeking that same isolation, she carefully threw off the heavy blankets, slipped her boots onto her cold feet, and crept out of the silent dormitory. She slipped through the portrait hole like a ghost, navigating the grand, echoing stone staircases with practiced stealth until she finally stepped out into the crisp, open air of the deserted courtyard.

Estella approached the old, crumbling stone walls that bordered the grounds, leaning her weight heavily against the weathered masonry. The biting cold of the ancient stone pressed firmly against her bare forearms, a harsh shock that did nothing to stop the sudden torrent of tears that finally broke free, tracing hot tracks down her cheeks before dropping off the sharp edge of her jaw. She could not stop herself; the dam had broken, and she had entirely lost control of the fragile emotional walls she spent every day building. Desperate for a distraction to stop the shaking in her hands, she reached into the deep pocket of her oversized cardigan, pulling out a small, metallic muggle lighter and a bent cigarette. Holding the filter tightly between her rose-tinted lips, she sparked the flame, the brief orange flare illuminating the raw sorrow etched onto her face. She took a deep, dragging breath, letting the harsh smoke fill her lungs before blowing a thick, white cloud up into the moonlit air, weeping silently as the nicotine did nothing to soothe the phantom howl echoing in her ears.