1906 [h.s.]

eleven

I opened my eyes again, finding out that I was kneeling down on the floor of a completely dark room, no sound to be heard around me.

"Harry?" I called out in a whisper, crawling, my hands on the dirty and musky floor, hoping to find something that could've told me where I was.

I heard something shift beside me, something grazing me and making me squeal. "I'm here" he said lowly. "How are you feeling?" He asked calmly, his warm voice being enough to help me feel more grounded.

I moved my hand in the direction of his voice, relief washing through me when I felt the tips of my fingers brush against something. "I'm okay, I guess" I replied faintly. "Your shirt is a bit wet" I added, taking notice of the slight dampness of the fabric under my hand.

"It is not my shirt. You might be touching a mouldy blanket" he commented, his voice coming from somewhere next to me.

I retracted my hand fast, a little shiver running down my spine at the thought of having touched mould. I should've expected it though, considering how cold and wet the air seemed to be in that room.

"Follow my voice, I would prefer not to lose you as I search for the door" he whispered, his voice coming from above me, proving that he'd just stood up.

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me, and got up to my feet as well, instantly cleaning my dirty hands over my jeans, a disgusted hiss leaving my mouth when I felt the fabric get wet against my skin. I hoped it really was just mould, and not something of even more disgusting.

"Do you remember where you were before the light?" He asked in a whisper, seeming unnecessarily faint considering we were alone in the entire building. I hoped so at least. I trembled as the idea of someone else hiding in the shadows, waiting for us to make the wrong move, crossed my mind.

"Yes" I replied just as quietly as he had, extending my hand to my left, a sigh of relief leaving my mouth when the palm of my hand touched the rotten wood of what I supposed was the library I'd hidden behind. Despite the sudden instinct of retracting my hand, I gripped it tighter, starting to brush my fingers against it, hoping that I wouldn't have got splinters, to try to get myself out of my little hiding place.

"The room hasn't changed." His voice seemed to be coming somewhere a bit further away from me, but I fought the instinct of rushing towards him.

I closed my eyes, replacing the darkness of the room with the one of my closed eyelids, already starting to feel less nervous. "Okay" I said just to let him know that I had understood what he meant, going back to walking alongside the bookshelf, following its line until I felt my hand touch something cold, and a bit wet. Normally I would've been disgusted by it, but in that moment, I couldn't have been gladder to be touching it. "I found the wall" I said out loud, letting him know about my discovery.

"I am close to the door" he replied quietly, his voice coming from my right.

Keeping my hand on the wall, I walked towards him, my breath halting when I suddenly felt my foot hit something.

"Are you doing fine?" He asked, the slightest hint of worry in his voice as he took in the sound that had left my lips.

I leant a bit against the wall, taking a deep breath to calm at best the fast beating of my heart. "Something fell to the ground, I'm fine" I said, the sound coming out kind of breathy, before detaching my arm from the wall and carefully surpassing whatever that was. "Where are you?" I asked after a while, having walked forward and not having met him.

"Here" he replied, his voice coming from somewhere right next to me. "Take a few steps back, there is nothing behind you."

I slowly did as he said, going to stand a few steps away from him. I heard a weird metallic sound, and a clinging. After a few seconds of silence, a loud screeching was heard as the door opened.

"Follow me" Harry said, his voice close to me again. "Be careful, the floor is disjointed."

I slowly followed him on shaky legs, feeling a weight of nervousness on my chest, keeping me from breathing properly, until a very dim, white-bluish light illuminated the corridor, of which we were almost at the end. I realised how close I was to him as soon as I could see where I was going, and I distanced myself of a step from his back as we reached a to me familiar hallway.

The bright moon of a clear night was visible in the sky, its faint rays of light coming through the many huge windows of the cloister.

I side glanced at Harry, he was leaning against the dirty wall, his eyes closed, but his breathing not slow enough for him to be asleep - or on his way there, anyway. His arms were relaxed on each side of his torso, and I frowned as I noticed that around one of his forearms his before perfectly white shirt was stained.

I neared him, the sound of my steps coming closer causing him to open his eyes and look at me curiously. I pointed at the dark spot on the fabric, a frown forming on my face as I couldn't recognise what it was.

"You touched the mould, you must have touched my shirt also" He said faintly, his tiredness starting to show again.

I didn't remember touching him, but looked down at my hands, noticing that my fingers were indeed dirty. I cleaned my hands on the back of my jeans. "I'm sorry" I whispered to him, but he chuckled.

"I don't mind."

"Are you tired?" I asked him. "You can sleep if you want. I mean, I'm not tired. I can wake you up."

He nodded, sliding down to sit on the floor, his back still against the wall.

"I just realised, how do I know when to wake you up? I don't have a clock or anything" I said, supposing that my phone was long dead - and even if it wasn't, it wouldn't have shown the time inside the asylum.

"I tend to wake up many hours before, but in case I don't, wake me up when the rain starts" he hummed closing his eyes.

"Will do" I reply, sitting in front of him, looking at him, enjoying the beauty of his features when I knew he wouldn't have noticed me.

"It is not polite to stare" he murmured opening one eye.

"How do you know I was looking at you, your eyes were closed" I childishly replied, and he raised an eyebrow.

"I could feel your stare on me." He closed his eyes again. "Nice doing, by the way" he added after some seconds. "Throwing that shoe at the nurse, I mean." He let out a little laugh, and I realised that he was being sarcastic.

"Of course" I chirped, "Do you want a shoe as well? I have two so I can lend you one for self defence."

"I will pass on that one. It isn't ethically correct from my point of view" he mused, letting out a sigh.

"Ethically correct my ass, that bitch was going to tell on us" I blurted, and he puckered his lips, before wetting them with his tongue.

"Your way of talking is quite unfortunate."

"You not sleeping is unfortunate, it makes you cranky" I replied sassily, and he said nothing, avoiding to reply to what could've easily become the start of an useless argument.

I stood up and walked to the windows. I wondered if it was possible to break one of them, maybe there could've been an exit on the other side of the cloister. We had to find an exit, I didn't want to be trapped in there forever. I wondered what would've happened if we would've found one though - what would've Harry done? In that moment, he was over a hundred years away from his home, needless to say that he didn't even exist in the 21st century. I turned to look at him, the slow and rhythmic rising and falling of his chest told me that he was asleep, his head lulled slightly to the side. What would he have done, where would he have gone, if he had found himself in my world?

I sat down on the floor with a sigh, opposite to him, a few meters away from him, resigning to wait until he would've woken up.