AUTOPHOBIA - G. WEASLEY

Third Year: Heaven or hell

✯ CHAPTER FORTY-THREE ✯

Estella had always had a great vision in life of how she imagined heaven to look -- and to be honest, that was exactly as it did in movies; like a stunning ancient stone sat brightly on the whitest of clouds, surrounded by angels and as clear and light as a yellow crystal.

She'd expected it to be a bright, friendly environment filled with happy, positive people, and absolutely no negativity.

But it wasn't bright. It was dark, and so far Estella was yet to hear anyone. Totally not what she had expected and the movies she had watched had definitely fooled her.

Unless perhaps she was in hell? But she hadn't really imagined that to be dark either -- at least not the type of darkness she was experiencing.

For her, it was just pitch black, and she couldn't really see anything. In hell she'd imagined a sort of underground tunnel; dark but with fire surrounding the place to almost make it look light, and she'd expected people -- mean, horrible people who'd pry over anyone who came in, sending them hard, judgemental looks as they walked through the fire, trying to work out what they possibly could've done to end up there.

Estella hoped this wasn't hell. She didn't really feel she'd done anything worthy of being there. But at least, if it was, it so far wasn't as bad as she'd expected.

Though being alone in pure darkness was awful enough in its own ways.

But then suddenly there was a sound -- footsteps, Estella quickly realised. Perhaps this was the devil coming to greet her -- to welcome her in to the gates of hell? Though, honestly, she didn't feel any of that would be very welcoming.

A light flickered. Estella's eyes weren't fully open yet, she couldn't really work out how wherever she was looked. But then she heard a voice, one she recognised, and it was clear immediately that this was neither hell nor heaven.

"SHE'S AWAKE."

It was Hermione; towering over Estella like a mother checking over her child. She looked tired -- the bags under her eyes almost resembled Remus' permanent ones, looking oddly similar to a black eye.

"You scared us, a bit," she said, a glint of relief in her tired eyes. "Me and Harry woke up hours ago and we thought that you'd have done the same, but you didn't. Madam Pomfrey suspects you've reacted worse to the dementors than we did..."

Dementors.

It was all coming back to Estella now -- the dementors, Peter Pettigrew, the full moon, Sirius being innocent.

Sirius.

"Hermione, is my father--" she said, a clear urgency in her voice, but her best friend had put up a hand to stop her talking.

"He's fine. They caught him, but he got away."

"But he's innocent--"

Estella hoped Hermione didn't mean he'd escaped again and went back into hiding somewhere, but she wasn't stupid. She remembered Peter running off, and she knew they had absolutely no chance of proving her father's innocence without his presence.

It wasn't fair. But Estella had learned a long time ago that hardly anything in life ever was.

"The ministry doesn't seem to believe that," popped up Harry, and Estella now noticed he was sat on the bed next to hers -- he, too, looked absolutely exhausted. "Snape's fault, of course."