CONTROL | harry potter

THREE

Cordelia couldn't even remember if she had once been a valiant girl, but it scared her what Professor Dumbledore had told her: names do not define us, we define ourselves. It had scared her so much, that she'd rushed to escape the castle after giving her answer to the Headmaster.

She had felt such an urge to be one with the world again, to feel as if she was not on Earth, but rather that she was the Earth. She couldn't explain the feeling of being outside, among the raw, stark nature, but she knew that for the second time that day, she felt at home.

The moonlight lit the grass on fire. She imagined the Sun, blinding in its glory, throwing its light onto the moon, and closed her eyes, lay back in the burning grass, letting the pale fire engulf her. It swallowed her up with its white tongue, taking her into another world, a world where memories didn't disappear, where confinement did not exist.

Cordelia did not open her eyes again that night, but she didn't not quite slip into the arms of sleep just then. She lay on the ground, feeling the night's breeze on her skin, raising goosebumps, and the blue-white light of the moon against the backs of her eyelids and she contemplated whether her choice had been the right one.

She remembered how Professor Dumbledore had told her that if she chose to get her memories back, she would return to who she had been then. But what if the person she had been then had been the cause of her oblivion?

With that thought, she misstepped and plummeted into the ravine of sleep.

- - -

She awoke to the sun's angry glare, and shielded her eyes, rolling over in the grass. Holding her arms out, she let the sleep out of her body with a sigh. The day was just as pleasant as the previous one had been, if not more. Cordelia stood up, stains of grass and earth all over the clothes that Helena had given her. She didn't bother to brush herself off as she started walking back toward the doors of the castle.

Her stomach growled and flipped over with hunger. She had no idea what time it was, but the sun was high in the sky, and she hadn't eaten anything the night before.

The oak doors of the castle swung open as she stepped near them, and she nearly tripped over the threshold in her haste to eat something.

She approached a large, open door, through which Cordelia saw a plain, circular table, a crisp, white cloth thrown over it. Laid across the surface of the table was a plate of chicken, a bowl of spaghetti, and a bottle of butterbeer. Professor Dumbledore sat in a plain, wooden chair, a napkin tucked into the neck of his robes. Cordelia thought he looked ridiculous.

The Headmaster looked up and beckoned to her. "Good morning! Well, good afternoon, really. I hope you had a good night's sleep. Come, please, eat something. You must be starving."

As if her stomach wanted to voice it's agreement, it growled, and she smiled. "Definitely."

---

She was on the Hogwarts grounds again, but something was different. She had felt such an aura of happiness when standing on this grass the night before. Now the moon was but a miniscule sliver of ivory. It seemed that dread was creeping up on her, twisting around her legs and torso, like a vine that would tighten and trap her at the slightest movement.

Suddenly, a figure crept out of the shadows. She didn't see his face, for he kept a hood up, but the stance with which he stood told her that it was a man. A boy, not much older than her.

She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Panicked, she turned to run, only to find that her feet were rooted in place, ropes of woven grass twisted around her legs. She choked on her hammering heartbeat and reached down to free herself from the ropes, but they just grew around her hands, up her arms, and finally to her neck, where it tightened until she saw nothing but the stars behind her eyes.

Still, she could feel the ropes squeezing, slithering around to her head, entangling themselves in her hair. She heard a hissing noise, and felt scaly skin on the ropes. With a jolt of fear, she realized they were not made of grass; rather, they were snakes.

She could no longer feel the snakes at her legs. She didn't know if that was a result of her blood being cut off, or the serpents disappearing, but the ones at her head pushed her down, down, down.

And suddenly she was not at Hogwarts. She was in a small room with five steel walls instead of four, dimly lit, although she didn't know where the scarce light was emanating from. Cordelia noticed with relief that the hooded man had disappeared along with the castle.

Without any type of warning, without even the flick of a switch, she was swallowed by complete darkness. Then, she felt a brush on her neck, so light it could have been the flutter of a butterfly's frail wings. So light she wouldn't have noticed it, had she been able to concentrate on anything but her skin.

Her body was alight with fear. Another brush, this time lingering longer. A pair of hands were on her thinly clothed waist; they spun her around to face the man.

The darkness was absolute; the colors of her nightclothes silenced, luster of the steel walls muffled. So she could not understand why she saw the man's face as clear as she would if floodlights were pointed at him.

His silver eyes gleamed like two full moons, and dark brown curls hung around his face like dead flowers. "I swore, twenty years ago, that I would get revenge on Grayden. But two decades of biding my time has proved to be too long. Grayden is dead."

She could not keep her voice from trembling. "Who's Grayden? Who are you?"

"You know who I am. I know your mother told you. You can't play dumb with me, girl." A corner of his mouth shot up, and her eyes were drawn do his razor-sharp cheekbones.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know my mother, or my father. Something happened to me - I lost my memories."

"My name is Wolfgang Thorne. I'm a ghost, killed by your father." His smile disappeared. "If you have lost your memories, I would advise you to retrieve them as soon as possible. You have much trouble charging in your direction, and it would do you no good to be clueless the entire ordeal."

Cordelia's body, which had been coiled up like a spring, relaxed. He was only a ghost. Ghosts couldn't touch anything, couldn't do anything, really.

"I see your fear diminishing at the word 'ghost.' You are unwise, much like your father. There is one thing you need to know about ghosts. They aren't in the world, they are the world. Ghosts are the very epitome of nature, they are the fossils of the wizarding world. And they can do anything. But I am not an ordinary ghost. They are fueled by fear of death. I am fueled by fury, pride, and rage. I can do things that ordinary ghosts cannot do.

"I give you a choice. What you are in right now, it is called mental confinement. You can either remain in this room within your mind for the rest of eternity; never eating, never aging, never moving." Again, he smiled his crooked grin. "Or, you can let me into your body, and you can live your life."

She dreaded to think what 'living her life' meant to Wolfgang, but she had no other option. "That's not much of a choice, is it?"

He shook his head, eyes glittering. "Not much of a choice at all."

Cordelia held her arms out, expressing her decision just in that gesture. His smile was blinding in the darkness as he stepped forward, into her arms, embracing her like a lover.

And then she screamed.

---

(A/N)

i know this chapter is short but like can we talk about wolfie pls. his fc is daniel sharman because like curly hair and sharp cheekbones ofc. also, i always have such trouble with playlists, so i think i'm going to do a song for every chapter, and then form a master playlist. so check the previous chapters to see what song i chose.

what do you think of cordelia's decision?
what are your thoughts so far on wolfie thorne?
which canon character do you think will be the love interest?

this chapter is dedicated to misch (@eIectrons) for helping me get over my writers block

*unedited*