human again / hp.

Chapter 81

It was another restless night, the kind that felt like it would never end. I lay in bed, staring up at the celing above me, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts that wouldn't slow down. The silence of the room only made everything worse. I could feel the weight of the darkness pressing in, and every time I closed my eyes, the nightmares returned. They had been relentless the past few weeks, images of my father's cold, stern face haunting me over and over again. I could almost feel the suffocating pressure of his expectations, that constant, overwhelming sense that nothing I did would ever be enough. It felt like I was always falling short, no matter how hard I tried.

I rolled over, frustrated, and punched my pillow, hoping to somehow ease the tightness in my chest. But it didn't help. The unease only grew heavier, pressing down on me as if something invisible was slowly crushing me from the inside. I could feel my heartbeat thumping in my ears, my mind racing with everything that I couldn't control. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to fall asleep, but the thought of what awaited me in the darkness—the same relentless nightmares—kept me awake.

Then, through the quiet, I heard it—a faint murmur, barely audible. It was distant, but it cut through the stillness of the night. At first, I thought it might just be my mind playing tricks on me, but as I listened closer, it became clearer. Voices.

I sat up in bed, straining my ears, trying to make out what was being said. The low hum of conversation was coming from downstairs. My curiosity got the better of me, and before I could stop myself, I slipped out of bed. The cold stone floor of the room felt sharp against my bare feet as I wrapped my robe tightly around myself, the fabric comforting against the chill of the night. I moved quietly, trying not to disturb the silence too much, my steps soft as I padded toward the stairs leading down to the common room. I wasn't sure what was going on, but I couldn't ignore the feeling that something important was happening.

Halfway down the stairs, I paused, crouching low to avoid being seen. I could hear the voices more clearly now. They weren't loud, but the conversation was distinct enough to catch my attention.

"We have to be careful," Hermione's voice said, sounding serious but quiet.

"I know," Harry replied, his voice calm but filled with determination. "That's why we're only telling people we trust."

"Yeah, well, we can't trust everyone, can we?" Ron muttered, his tone skeptical.

The conversation stopped suddenly, and I froze in place, holding my breath. Had they heard me? Had they noticed I was there? My heart raced, and I strained to hear, trying to catch a glimpse of what they were talking about.

I waited a moment before slowly continuing my descent down the stairs, moving as quietly as I could. When I reached the bottom, I stepped into the light from the fire in the common room, hoping the shadows would still hide me for a little while longer. The flames flickered, casting a warm glow over the room, but it only made the three of them standing by the fire seem even more intense.

All three of them turned to look at me as I stepped into view. Hermione's gaze immediately met mine, and I saw a flicker of something in her eyes—maybe surprise, or wariness, or both. Her expression was guarded, though not unfriendly. Ron looked frustrated, his face tight with annoyance, and Harry's face was unreadable, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observed me.

I straightened up and tried to act casual, though I could feel the tension in the room pressing against me. "Couldn't sleep," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "What about you lot? It's pretty late."

Hermione bit her lip, glancing quickly at Harry and Ron, as if silently asking them whether she should say more. Ron, however, didn't bother with subtlety. He threw his hands up in the air, his voice full of frustration.