The Wand Makers Apprentice

Chapter 25

I woke up the next morning, blurred eyes and drowsy. His body lay there in the bed, lifeless and dead. Every part of me hated seeing him like this. Even though I knew he was alive and breathing, I could hear this voice in the back of my head telling me he was dead. Dead and never coming back.

I vowed to myself I'd never see him like this again. I knew there wasn't much I could do, but I could try and do everything to protect him.

A thought crossed my mind. Would he be angry when he woke up and saw me? I began to panic, thinking up thousands of scenarios in my head of things that would happen when he woke up. Could it even be possible that he hates me more than he let on?

Suddenly, the air felt heavy and I found it extremely difficult to breathe. I tried to gasp for breathh, but it was just making the situation worse, so I dashed outside. Cold air hit my like a tonne of bricks and I caught my breath almost instantly. Along with my abnormal struggle to breath disappearing, along did the panic, but I knew I couldn't go back in there and face him again.

Sludging back down the corridor, I realized that the all my peers would be in lessons. I found my hands shaking, as I plunged it into my bag, rooting everywhere for my timetable. All my possesions went spilling over the floor and I bent down, trying to get myself together before anyone could see.

 My whole body felt like it was breaking into millions of miniscule pieces, that seemed like they would never mend and that I'd be stuck here picking up my textbooks and quills for the rest of eternity. Before I could continue picking up the last few scraps off the floor, through my teared up eyes I saw a blurry hand bustling the last few bits and pieces into my bag.

 My eyes shifted, looking for the owner of those caring hands. As I looked into those friendly brown eyes, I brushed the messy ginger hair out of the way. 

George put his arm around me and pulled me into a long embrace. I felt my eyes fill up to the extent that I could not contain it any longer, and I just broke down. 

 "You need to get some rest." He whispered, standing up before pulling me into his arms and carring me up the corridor, my broken satchel sloshed over his arm. 

 I pushed my face into his chest, hoping that that way he couldn't see the mess that was my face. As long as I was in George Weasley's arms I knew I was safe.