Alyssa took a deep breath, allowing the cold air to fill her lungs and still her rapidly beating heart as she squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers trembling as she clutched the leather bound diary closer to her chest. She could feel the pull, the parchment humming under her fingers, a threatening vibration warning her that if she went through with this, the monster lurking in her head would destroy everything, everyone, she cared for. Then again, she wouldn't be herself if she actually listened. She had already tried everything she could think of: spells, jinx's, hexes, curses, but nothing worked. It was like the stash of flimsy paper she clutched between her slender fingers was indestructible. So, albeit reluctantly, she had come to a confusion.
If she couldn't destroy it, she would send it where no one would find it. Where it couldn't hurt anyone anymore. Sure, disposing of it down the sewers didn't seem to be the best plan, but it was all she could think of without the others getting suspicious. She was already late to go and meet Hermione at the hospital wing, as she had promised the others a mere half hour ago, but now as she stood at the entrance to Moaning myrtle's bathroom, the world spinning around her and the voices inside her head, so threatening and dark, screaming at her, she couldn't help but wish she had just told the others of what was happening before she got herself into this mess. But no, she just had to dig herself in deeper.
Taking a deep breath, Alyssa slowly opened the door, the metal hinges groaning in protest. Her head pounded as she clutched the diary closer. The only sounds in the bathroom were her laboured breathing, the steady drip drip of one of the taps, and myrtle's wailing sobs coming from one of her stalls. Rolling her eyes, Alyssa reached backwards and drew her hood up over her face, shielding her features from the ghosts prying eyes. She couldn't have her spilling her secrets all over the school, which, knowing Myrtle, was exactly what would happen.
"Who's there?" The ghost's voice snapped from the shadows, laced with venom as the shadowy figure emerged from the stall. She gasped once she saw Alyssa, who, after making sure that her face was still cloaked by the hood draped over her head, made a beeline towards one of the stalls, ignoring the angered pull backwards she felt as she tossed the diary into the water of the toilet, pulling the chain. Myrtle shrieked in the background and Alyssa, casting her frightened eyes upwards, fled the bathroom, slamming the door behind her as she did.
Hermione remained in the hospital wing for several weeks. There was a flurry of rumour about her disappearance when the rest of the school arrived back from their Christmas holidays, because, of course, pretty much everyone believed that she had been attacked. Jess actually lost count of the students that filed past the hospital wing trying to catch a glimpse of her, and eventually madam Pomfrey had gotten extremely annoyed and ended up taking out her curtains again and placing them around Hermione's bed to spare her the shame of being seen with a furry face.
Harry, Ron, Alyssa, and Jess went to visit her every evening after their classes, and when the new term started, they brought her all of the new homework they received. "If I'd sprouted whiskers, I'd take a break from work." Jess huffed irritably as she dumped a stack of books on Hermione's bedside table, plonking herself down beside the Gryffindor girl and sighing dramatically. "Don't be silly, Jess, I've got to keep up." Hermione replied briskly. Her spirits were greatly improved by the fact that all the hair had vanished from her face and her eyes were slowly turning back to brown. "I don't suppose you've got any new leads?" She added in a whisper, so that Madam Pomfrey couldn't hear. "Nothing." Harry said gloomily as he bowed his head slightly.
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survivor | HARRY POTTER
FanfictionThere was a darkness lurking on the edge of the horizon, a war to end all wars approaching. Lord Voldemort was returning, and there was nothing they could do but be prepared for when he did, no matter how many people were killed in the process. ...