METANOIA. ❪ harry potter ❫² [REWRITING]

𝐢𝐯. CLOAKED HORROR

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  WHEN NYX OPENED HER EYES, the world felt oddly distant, like waking from a dream that had slipped through her fingers. For a few bewildering moments, she couldn't quite place where she was or how she'd gotten there. The gentle sway beneath her told her she was on the train, but... hadn't something happened?

The memory struck her in fragmented flashes—a cloaked figure, a bone-chilling cold, and a scream, though she couldn't tell if it had come from her or someone else. After that, only darkness.

She blinked rapidly, her head throbbing dully as she realized she was lying on the floor of the compartment. Above her, lanterns now glowed warmly, chasing away the suffocating blackness from before. The Hogwarts Express was moving again, the familiar rhythmic clatter of the tracks grounding her in reality.

"Nyx? Nyx!" Hermione's voice, sharp with concern, broke through her fog.

She turned her head to see Hermione and Ginny kneeling beside her, their faces pale and anxious. Ginny looked particularly shaken, her complexion ashen and her wide eyes glistening with worry.

"You're awake," Hermione breathed, relief washing over her features.

"What... what happened?" Nyx managed, her voice hoarse and unfamiliar to her own ears.

"Thank goodness you're all right," Hermione said, gently guiding Nyx to sit up. Her hands were trembling, though she tried to hide it.

"Don't ever scare us like that again," Ginny added, her voice firm but soft, as though afraid Nyx might break if spoken to too harshly.

Nyx gave them both a small, grateful smile, though confusion still clouded her mind.

As they helped her back into her seat, she became aware of Ron, Neville, and Harry hovering nearby. Harry, she noticed, was rubbing his cheek—now an angry shade of red—as though he'd taken a hard knock.

Professor Lupin stood off to the side, watching silently, his sharp, watchful eyes taking in the scene with a calmness that seemed at odds with the chaos Nyx felt inside.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Hermione pressed, her eyes searching Nyx's face as though looking for cracks.

"Yeah... yeah, I think so," Nyx murmured, though she wasn't entirely convinced. There was an unsettling hollowness in her chest, a lingering chill that had nothing to do with the weather outside.

The train rumbled on, but the memory of the darkness lingered, heavy and unspoken.

Nyx let out a shaky breath, the chill still gnawing at her bones. She glanced around the compartment, arms wrapped tightly around herself, as though trying to reclaim the warmth that dreadful creature had stolen. 

Her eyes, wide and disoriented, scanned her friends before she asked, "Where—where's the woman?"

"What woman?" Ron asked, his voice higher than usual, edged with nervousness.