WE'LL TAKE ON THE WORLD ; h.j.p.

1 | Come In With The Rain

Darkness engulfs her. Another step, and blue flames spring to life, casting long shadows. It is cold. Too cold for summer. She knows there are doors all around her, she knows one leads outside, but she cannot not open any of them. Her arms are too short to reach the handles. People call her name. People behind the doors. They are in danger. She runs from one door to the next, not able to open them until blue blurs into the darkness – a white hand with long fingers grabs her neck...

Heavy rain was drumming against the window above Ginny's desk. Deep purple clouds hung over the blooming fields and the orchard behind the Burrow, which were welcoming the sudden shower in the midst of the hot summer. On the other side of the slightly crooked house, the morning sun was making its way through the early mist of dawn.

Allison was sweating like she had just run a marathon. Scratching her neck rapidly and blinking to adjust her eyes to the darkness, she pressed her free hand onto her chest. The space between her ribs felt too small for her lungs, which were still turned into panic-mode.

It was just a nightmare, she reminded herself and settled back down, shuffling away a ragged Quaffle and some old, stacked-up school books with her foot, then pulled her pillow out from underneath Hermione's arm to turn it onto its cool side.

Hermione had her arm stretched out half across Allison's side of the spare mattress and had pushed her blanket onto her legs. Summer nights at the Burrow were quite unbearable with Hermione taking up all the space on the floor, leaving Allison to lie underneath the desk, and Ginny, snoring almost as loud as the thunder outside. Crookshanks was resting at her feet, apparently minding neither the snoring nor the thunder.

Allie shoved Hermione's arm aside, taking a quick look at her watch – it was about 4:50 in the morning –, just for Hermione to drop it right back onto her face. Ginny's room was simply too small for three grown girls to sleep in (though unfortunately, 'grown' was not applicable to all of them – while Hermione and Ginny had both grown an or two inch, Allison had not, and was now the smallest out of their group), especially during this kind of weather.

She couldn't sleep here.

She listened if there was any noise in the rest of the house, any squeaking of a staircase or suchlike indicating that someone was awake. Well, not someone, but Mrs. Weasley in particular. Allison had heard a door opening and closing at around midnight, which must've been Mr. Weasley coming home from work. Just like her own father, who worked at the ministry as well, he was working twenty-four-seven, all day, every day, but regarding the events of last month, it was understandable.

Now, there were no sounds at all, except for the rain. As quietly as possible (though it was almost unnecessary as Ginny was a heavy sleeper by nature and Hermione's inner clock would not let her wake up after a reasonable eight-hour sleep), Allison shoved away the blankets and Hermione's arm, took her pillow, and sneaked out of Ginny's room.

She had walked up the stairs to Ron's bedroom so many times that she knew exactly which steps to avoid to not wake up the whole house, even though she was half asleep.

He was, like his sister, snoring in his sleep, but startled nonetheless upon Allison's arrival and looked at her with tiny, tired eyes.

"Ginny's snoring," she explained shortly while pulling out the camping bed from underneath his. "Can't sleep down there."

He nodded. "Mhm. Okay." Then dropped back onto his mattress.

Ron had opened the door to the little balcony wherefore his room wasn't as sticky and heated as Ginny's. The storm seemed to move on; the sound of the rain was dulling down, and the sky was much lighter than a few minutes ago.