The Sight Of Eternity With You

Till Forever Falls Apart

"Out on our own
Dreaming in a world that we both know
Is out of our control
But if shit hits the fan, we're not alone
'Cause you've got me and you know
That I've got you"
-Till forever falls apart, Ashe

****

Harper pressed her back against the stone wall, the only sensation that was available to her was touch while in this hell. She switched between carving her nails into the stone to her torn shirt, kneading the holes in the fabric between her thumb and pointer finger, with only her thoughts to keep her sane she began picturing George with her, reminding herself to stay strong.

Harper spent her time doing this as she waited to die.

Harpsichord, you need to focus

Harper moved her head, the darkness before her providing no comfort.

Harpsichord, you need to start planning

She shook her head. The voice soothing her out of her anxieties as she cried into the darkness. Her subconscious taking the form of George's voice, soothing her when the panic ate away at her—clawing through her chest.

It'll be alright, we'll find each other again

Harper gave a shuddering breath, her subconscious coaxing her off the edge. If she sharpened her nails enough against the stone, could she cut down to her jugular? Hope that she could bleed out before they found her on their next check? She was never escaping this hell, she was most certain, she was impressed to not have been tortured yet-although this deprivation tactic was slowly working on her. Any hope of seeing the face attached to the soothing voice her subconscious was using was crushed the longer she sat against the stone.

Waiting to die. It was the only outcome.

Harpsichord, you have to survive. You're strong. You're brilliant. You can survive and we'll find each other again

Harper began sobbing, but her screams never made a sound in her cell, they had used a silencing charm on her to increase the deprivation. She was screaming at the top of her lungs when a hand connected with her cheek and she felt the wall beside her meet her head, stunning her into silence.

Hands grabbed her from the darkness, pulling her along the cold flooring beneath her. She hadn't eaten anything in god knows how long, her body felt weak as she tried to take in the outside world by touch. A moment later she was tossed on the floor, the wood grain felt worn and dug at her cheek as she laid on the ground in a ball.

Suddenly noise enveloped her, almost too fast, as if someone had immediately cranked the volume from zero to eleven on a stereo-the sound waves making her body shake in surprise. She could hear a fire cracking somewhere, shuffling feet above her, breathing and muttering. She began to cry with joy at the noises around her, hyperventilating as footsteps stopped in front of her.

Play dead

"This...this is what you've brought me?"

Her blood turned to ice, her heart stopped, Voldemort's voice rang throughout the quickly silenced room.

"Three days from that failure of a trap, and you've had this hiding below?"

"My Lord," A voice spoke up quietly, "she's a seer. Maybe she can be of use."

Yes, just a seer. Nothing more. Please. Let me go.

Harper was lifted by her throat, her legs dangling like dead fish beneath her, the blindfold was removed from her eyes. Her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, blurred and unfocused images met her gaze until she realized she was face to face with the evil wizard himself. He was studying her with red eyes, she wanted to scream and break free from the hold on her throat, but she was far too weak.