Silent Riot | Regulus Black

FIFTY

a/n- publishing these (a lot) earlier than expected because I'm too excited to share them. 

Gemma was back in the forest. Her feet were bare, and rain was beating down on her heavily. Her bare feet curled on the glacial ground, too cold to register the cuts from which blood ran. Wet hair clung to her face as her breathing hitched in her throat from fear, the chime of twelve bells telling her that it had just struck midnight. She didn't know how she'd gotten there, but she was alone and lost. 

Her eyes were wide as she stumbled through the trees, spinning in circles to try to gather her bearings- until she came upon a familiar clearing. She closed her eyes as haunting memories crashed down on her, biting her lip and drawing blood. When she opened them, a strangled cry escaped her throat, at the sight of Isolde Greengrass' corpse laying exposed on the forest floor, already in the late stages of decay, flies swarming her rotting mouth. Beside her, shards of familiar iridescent glass were littered around the dead girl in an almost decorative manner.

Gemma staggered away, dumbstruck, tears streaming down her face as she fell to her knees before her dead best friend. She was vaguely aware of a hooded figure watching, in the corner of her eye. 

'What do you want?' She choked out, unable to bring herself to look at them. 'I have nothing left for you to take from me.'

I've never wanted to take anything from you. The voice was in her mind again, and she let out a gut-wrenching scream at the agony it inflicted. 

'You've stolen everyone from me!' She cried as the rain beat down on her harder, mixing with the tears. 

Have you learned your truth yet? He was almost mocking her, and she'd never wanted to murder someone more than just then. 

'About Dumbledore? Yes. And it makes no difference,' she snapped, finally able to stand up. She didn't have her knife, but she still stood before him defiantly, finally raising her eyes to meet him. 'I'll kill you one day, with or without magic. I swear it.'

Would you kill me if you knew who I was? Gemma hissed in pain, but refused to let her hand go to her head in a sign of weakness. 

'I don't care,' she spat. 'The day I find out is the day you die.'

Is that so? Well, let's see then.

Gemma watched with shock as gloved hands went to the hood which concealed the face, the one that Gemma loathed more than anything. But when the black fabric fell back, she felt her entire understanding of reality crumble like hardened clay, as she stared at light blue eyes and short, perfect blond hair. 

Edward Rosier's smile had not changed since she'd first seen him on platform 10 at Kings Cross station five years ago. 

-

Gemma stumbled out of her bed and threw up. Pandora was beside her in an instant, vanishing the mess with a wave of her wand, and within minutes the kind girl was pressing a cool cloth against Gemma's forehead. 

It was just a dream she thought to herself, still shivering, still trembling. Never had she wished someone was dead more than she did Edward in that moment. Just a nightmare. Just imagination. She rocked backwards and forwards, mumbling the words to herself until Pandora thought she was mentally unwell, lighting a candle and offering to call a professor. Gemma didn't hear a word she was saying. She felt her hair fervently. It was soaking wet.

With a jolt, she got out of bed, and lurched towards her wardrobe. She began pulling things out and throwing them so carelessly that some of the other girls started to wake, but she didn't care. Finally, she found what she was looking for.