Blank Sheet

The Attack

Dong...Dong...Dong...Dong

"Oh no! - What time is it?" Medea let her gobstone fall and sought for a clock in the unknown surroundings. 

Dong...Dong...Dong...Dong

"Uh, I think we've missed curfew," Dean said. The common room was pretty empty by now, even the twins had left, but in a far corner, two supposedly seventh-years were writing an essay and in one of the armchairs, Colin Creevey had fallen asleep, his Camera dangling around his neck.

Dong...Dong...Dong

"Yup, we've missed curfew."

"But for an hour? Is that even possible?" Medea tried to estimate how long she had been playing with Dean. She couldn't believe it had been for over an hour.

"Apparently."

"Oh boy. What do I do now? I can't stay here, but I also can't go to my common room. - Oh boy." Medea paced back and forth.

"Hey, calm down. I'm sure nobody minds if you just stay here. You can sleep on the couch," Dean replied in his placid way, "I'll get you the replacement bedclothes from upstairs and you just sleep here, no problem."

"But what if I get in trouble?"

"No worries, I'll wake you earlier tomorrow, and then you can go to your common room. - Oh, what's with your roommates though?

"That's not a problem, they're not going to care that I'm not there," Medea said dryly. The fact that her fellow Slytherin fifth-years didn't care about her was something she had accepted for some time now, even though she was still hurt.

"Oh," Dean replied, he sounded shocked. There was an awkward silence, but Medea didn't want to waste her time with those girls now.

"So, could you get the bedclothes?"

"Huh? Oh, er, of course." He had been quiet, thinking about something. Medea wondered gloomily if he had reflected if he should follow the girls' example since they must have a reason. Her heart sunk. She surveyed him when he walked upstairs, hoping that this was not what he had thought about. She couldn't stand another person in her life to abandon her without reason.

She didn't look at him when he gave her the bedclothes, she didn't want him to see the sadness in her eyes. She lay down quickly, but it took her ages to fall asleep. She thought to hear the gossiping Slytherins in the shadows, thought to see George looking at her accusingly.

When she finally fell asleep, she was haunted by nightmares, one including Blaise, who was gripping her arm and didn't let go. His grip got tighter and tighter and she already thought he'd break one of her bones when Dean came and scared Blaise away. 

His eyes were gleaming red and he was breathing heavily. He was taller and buffer than normal. When he turned to her, his eyes went back to their normal colour, and his breath got more steady, but before she could thank him, the Slytherin girls passed by. They looked at her devaluating, laughed and talked about her. One of them beckoned Dean, and he left her without a look back, joining the girls.

When Medea thought it couldn't get any worse, it all became dark, she couldn't see anymore, until a wand was lightened before her. It was Ron, he stood just a few steps away, but when Medea tried to reach him, she realized she was caught in a box of glass she couldn't break.

Hermione and Harry appeared next to Ron and they laughed at her, pointed at her and called the Slytherin girls and Dean to come. The light was weird, their laughter was too loud and keyed up and she was too little.

Such an idiot...As if we would be friends with her...She's so conceited...I heard she was thrown out of Beauxbatons because she snogged the headmistress' son... They told lies, they made fun of her.

She was being stared and laughed at from outside, when a pain, sharper than she had ever experienced it, shot through her forehead. She fell to her knees and screamed, screamed the loudest she could.

Then she woke up, covered in sweat, a parched throat and breathing as if she had just duelled Dumbledore. She sat up and tried to calm down, she looked out of the window and tried to find peace in looking at the Forbidden Forest and the Hogwarts grounds. A hippogriff rose from the Forest but quickly disappeared in the darkness.

She was reminded of her dream every time she closed her eyes when those pictures appeared. She hoped she hadn't actually screamed, but when she remembered the pain she had felt, she was sure a dream couldn't make it feel that realistic.

That was when she realized she was not the only one having a bad dream. Screams came from upstairs, it was Harry's voice. Neville came running down the stairs, he was in such a tearing hurry, he tripped over his dressing gown and fell a few stairs, but got up right away and kept running to the portrait hole.

In worry, Medea sped to the boys' dormitory. The room was tiny and could have been comfortable, but it was dark and fuggy and it smelled of vomit. She saw Dean, Ron and Seamus standing at Harry's bed and slowly approached it. 

The Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived, all his titles. And now he was sitting in his bed, dripping with sweat and white as a ghost, telling his roommates about an attack. He said Ron's father was hurt. - But how should he know, Arthur Weasley was surely miles away...

She looked at the famous boy who had been through so much more than what a boy at his age should have been through. And she felt truly sorry. Even though he had a lot of money and was known, this wasn't a gift, it was a burden.

She was bemused when Professor McGonagall reminded her of the seriousness of the situation. The old woman, who always seemed to have everything under control, looked overwhelmed and shocked when she rushed into the dormitory.

Still, with her normal attitude, she shut down the boys' and Medea's doubts by confirming she believed Harry. She believed him, that Ron's dad had been attacked and was bleeding to death somewhere. Ron immediately turned white around his nose.

Harry got up, relieved somebody believed him, and got his glasses as well as his dressing gown. Professor McGonagall already hurried down the stairs, followed by the upset Harry.

"You're coming with us, Mr Weasley," she said, without even looking back.

Ron looked so confused and overwhelmed, his face was still white and he apparently couldn't get himself to follow the professor. Medea felt pity, she stepped forward and took his hand, squeezing it comfortingly. 

"You can do this."

He just glanced at her, but he still seemed to pick up some courage through it. He collected himself for a second and then followed Professor McGonagall.

Left were Medea, Dean and Seamus, in the uncomfortable silence of concern. Nobody spoke, but they all went downstairs, sitting down on Medea's messy bedclothes. She could hear the boys' breath and she could feel the extreme tension.

She played with the green stripes in her hair, Dean tapped on his knee and Seamus played with a gobstone that laid there from Dean's and Medea's game until it splashed some of the smelly liquid in his face and he quickly let go.

Every one of them knew Ron and the other Weasleys well enough to wish them nothing else but that Harry was wrong. But Medea was sure he wasn't. She had doubted at first, but Harry had been so swept up from the dream and McGonagall had believed him. It just seemed way to realistic that the Weasleys' father was in mortal danger.

***

Phew, so this chapter is very hard on all the characters. I was a bit afraid of writing it, fearing I wouldn't pay Arthur the tribute he deserves and I hope you think this was realistic.

As always, this time maybe even more, your feedback, votes and comments are greatly appreciated, so if you liked this chapter, please consider giving a vote or leaving a comment or feedback and even if you didn't like it, feedback would be very nice. :)

So, I hope to hear from you!

-Tonks