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𝕾leep was improbable.
Anxiousness and fright stiffened my body continuously as the words of Snape's dark curse repeated over and over in my mind. Sometimes in a hiss, or a taunting manner, perhaps a calm and dark manner I could only compare i'd imagine Voldemort to sound like.
And it's not because I could be getting hit by the life threatening curse. It's Scarlette and Sirius, James, Peter and Regulus...the Gryffindor girls. Remus. Bloodn spewing from them uncontrollably as their chests heaved up and down, gasping for breath as they slowly slipped away from consciousness until its black and dark, and once a person is just a red lifeless body.
The strangely comforting sounds of Peter's snoring, James' tossing with the occasional irritable grunt from Regulus sounded in the night of the Marauder's dorm. Scarlett and Sirius were deadly quiet— I knew better, they both cast silencing charms on their beds because of their occasional night terror traumatising them with their tortuous pasts. They had each other to hold on to and comfort, which helped settle that part of worry in my mind.
I blinked up at the canopy forming above Remus' bed, straining my eyes to try and see through the darkness aimlessly, as my teeth chewed on my lip. My nails were picking at my cuticles until they bled in response. Remus lays besides me on his side, his heavy breaths emitting from his mouth, scarred chest rising and falling much more than the way mine was.
There was nothing Dumbledore could do except give the boys detentions. It's not like they really injured anyone badly, and like he always says, they would do worse outside the castle than insides, so they may as well stay for the remaining months we had left and complete their Newts. Not that they needed grades, it's already implied they'll be death eaters if they aren't already ones.
Remus fluttered his eyelids, managing to spy his girlfriend through the darkness as she blinks up to the ceiling of the bed, still wide awake. He can tell this has affected her, because she doesn't know what to expect and Willow always knows with her intuition. Her anxiety is only increasing moment by moment, just like the rest of the group, doing as Mcgonagall said by sticking together.
He reaches out and lays his arm over her front to tug her closer to him, her arm brushing his warmth chest as she swallowed thickly, keeping her gaze upwards. Edging closer, he presses his forehead against her temple and strokes his lips over her cheek, murmuring just low enough for her to hear,
"Please get some sleep"
"Can't" I whispered in response, closing my eyes briefly and snapping them wide open when horrific images of death filled my vision rather than niffler meadows and lemon trees built with chocolate branches.
He sighed lightly, tugging at my waist to turn me on my side to face him, our legs intertwined at the bottom of the bed from where he was curled up to fit, the covers now charmed to be longer rather than him having to wear socks. I blinked at him when he slowly slipped his hand up and brushed some pearly strands from my face, letting his fingers linger on my cheek as he gazed tiredly at me.
