Alexithymia

11

I knew Umbridge was psycho. And I knew Potter was an idiot, but certainly not to this extent. What dolt gets caught trying to use the floo?

After spending a particularly nasty evening yesterday with Crabbe and Goyle due to Weasley's puking pastilles and an unpleasant morning being heckled in the Great Hall, meeting with Snape was the last thing I wanted to do.

Snape's office was always a smidge too cold and dark for my liking.

He stood from his desk at my arrival and passed me today's Daily Prophet paper.  "I thought you should see this first before hearing it from anyone else."

Name: Annika Selwyn

Age: 19

Female

Death Eater

Status: Dead

The letters floated around the pages of the quibbler, arranging themselves into the next name of the report. Annika was dead, gone, just like that.

"How?" I looked back up at Professor Snape, his face painted into a permanent frown.

"Sirius Black pulled her into the veil with him when he fell." Snape paused, his brow deepening even further. "The dark lord was not pleased with yesterday's outcome. Losing a brilliant witch like Annika, well... he will most likely look at you to replace her."

"Can he do that? I'm fifteen. I'm a child. I can't-" I tried to keep my voice as steady as possible, but it was no secret that I was on the verge of tears.

"We do not question the dark lord." He hissed. "You ought to know better than that by now."

Occlude. Occlude.

Annika would've been proud at how good I was getting at occluding. It helped that I found myself having to do it at least every other day in order to not rip someone's head off.

Snape let out a pained sigh.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Ashlynn. But please, do not do something as stupid as seeking out to Potter or his merry band of friends for help." His voice dropped to a whisper as he spoke. "You'll get yourself killed."

I didn't think Professor Snape realized this, but I was pretty sure even if I did seek them out, I'd receive nothing but scoffs and glares.

On the last day of the term, Mcgonagall summoned me to a surprise visit to Ms.Piernot. She then let me board the train early after a rather unsuccessful session with the mind healer, which was why I was sitting in the train minutes before the mass of students packed the train, happy to finally head home. I slid into the first empty compartment I saw, fogged the glass and locked the door.

Sitting there alone with nothing but a book, I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window, staring as the grass blurred by.

Draco was the only one who never questioned my taste in muggle literature. He was with me when we snuck into Annika's room in first year, trying to find her secret stash of chocolate frogs. Instead, we found a chest of colorful, leather bound books.

I secretly took one to read, although it was no secret to Annika. 

"Don't tell anyone," She'd whisper and passed me a book under the dinner table.

By the time I discovered they were written by muggles, I had already grown to love them. I knew it wasn't proper, but I couldn't help it. I was convinced muggles had their own form of magic, hidden in the words on the pages. It also didn't help that Draco had formed his own collection and was willing to share.

The Picture of Dorian Gray sat in my lap, somehow both polished and worn. It was the last one she gave to me before I left for the fall term. Annika burned all her books once she took the mark, afraid that her stash would give someone the wrong idea.

The realization that my sister was dead hit finally hit me. Tears now freely rolled down my face and I hugged the book in my arms. Occlumency be damned. I cried and cried, tear after tear, but it wasn't enough. The gaping whole in my chest still ached.

—

There was no one waiting for me at the platform after getting off the train. Draco found me sitting with my trunk and Briddy apparated us to the Selwyn estate where Narcissa and my parents were expecting us.

Even though there wasn't a body to bury, we still held a small ceremony to honor Annika's life. Her picture was framed under the magnolia tree that blossomed in the middle of our garden.

Along with the five of us, some of Annika's closest friends huddled together, crying in pain for the loss of their friend.

My father was a rather unemotional man, but even he stood with tears streaming down his face.

I thought I had gotten all my tears out on the train, but sure enough my eyes were filled to the brim. If one of us had to die, it should've been me.

The sight of my parents gripping each other, towering over a makeshift grave for their child jarred me. It was something no parent deserved to go through.

The sky seemed to mourn with us, as a drizzle turned into a steady downpour, like it knew how brilliant of a future had been extinguished.

Draco and I hadn't moved from the spot we apparated in from. I couldn't.

I didn't know how long I stood there, crying in the rain, watching as my parents placed flowers and candles around her photograph.  But Draco stayed right next to me the entire time, holding my hand.