Scarves and Secrets- Phan AU

Chapter Seventeen- Night Terrors

His footsteps echoed down the long, dark corridor. Shadows whispered in strange tongues and were then lost in the swirling blackness all around him. The floorboards creaked loudly with his every step, alerting anyone nearby of his presence. Phil glided down the hallway, all surrounding details a blur. The distorted ceiling twisted above him. Whenever he looked up, he would see something different. A chandelier, the ceiling of the Great Hall, tree branches, the night sky. It was like he was stuck in an ever shifting state jammed between dreams and reality. The whispers caught his ear again, pulling him towards the end of the hallway. He rounded the corner to see two shades standing in a room lit by one candle, their faces unclear.

"You have no idea what kind of trouble I may get into if I do this," the taller one said. It's voice sounded masculine, but it was hard to tell.

"Darling, you only get into trouble if you get caught. Please, Lucius, I need your help." Phil's skin went cold. The voice sounded warped and processed, but there was no mistaking who it belonged to.

The one called Lucius sighed exasperatedly. "Fine, but no messing around. I will help you disappear, but that's it. Narcissa and Draco can't know about this. Lord knows Draco distrusts me enough already," the specter, a bit clearer now, a muttered. Draco Malfoy? The famous Slytherin?

Bellatrix took a step towards him and leaned into his ear. She whispered something inaudible and smiled (was that a smile?), pressing her lips against the pale skin just underneath his jawline. "Thank you, Lucius." The warped dreamscape dissolved into mist and Phil fell onto a field of wet grass.

The waxing crescent moon was blocked by clouds, barely giving off enough light to see. An old cottage crawling in brambles and vines stood alone on the edge of the dark forest surrounding the field. The wood door and walls were swollen with moisture. Fog tiptoed on little cat feet between the trees and stalked onto the dark, slippery meadow. This place was much more vivid, he had been here before...

No.

Realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He recognized this place. He was barely old enough to remember, but somehow, seeing it again made everything come rushing back in a deluge of memories.

Headmistress McGonagall and another witch whom Phil didn't recognize emerged from the forest and raised their wands at the cottage. "Bombarda!" McGonagall cried, and the windows shattered from the force of the blow. An infant began to wail. I remember it now. How could I ever forget?

McGonagall and the witch sprinted inside of the shelter; Phil followed. Bellatrix Lestrange sat on the floor, wand discarded behind her, her slim fingers pressed around a baby's neck. Phil rubbed his own, the memory of her fingertips burned into his flesh. Her words pierced his eardrums. "You can do it, Phillip. Fight back. Fight back!"

"Bellatrix, this ends now. I may have once been a Death Eater but don't you dare think for one second that I will hesitate to kill you," the witch said, wand pointed at Bellatrix's chest. Her grip loosened on the child and she covered her face. Her shoulders began to shake up and down violently. The witch lowered her wand, and craned her neck towards the mad woman before her.

"Bellatrix?" she questioned. Suddenly, Bellatrix grew louder. She giggled and hiccuped, laughter rippling through her body.

"Ahaha...avada kedavra!" she screamed, whipping her wand off the ground and pointing it at the witch in one solid motion. The witch fell backwards, her head meeting the floor with a sickening crack! Phil cringed.

"Expelliarmus!" McGonagall yelled. Lestrange's wand flew across the room. McGonagall planted herself a few feet from Bellatrix, her eyes intense with rage and frustration. "Bellatrix Lestrange, you better hand that child over to me right now or so help me God I will kill you," she growled. Bellatrix snickered.