𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑

the one with the gun and bullets

"I have never seen Icarus's story as
a lesson for limitations on humans.
I've seen it as limitations of wax
as an adhesive."

•

I WOKE UP AT five in the morning the next day abruptly as if someone had shouted in my ears, a long high pitched scream I didn't recognize. It was manly and it was frantic. And it kept saying a word I couldn't understand, because the voice came from under water as it seemed, before he resorted to shouting. Before that bit of the beautiful dream however, I was getting tortured to madness by Tom Riddle. I was peachy.

Again, the sun was coming up with a faint apricot glow and I dropped my feet to the side into my slippers. Out of muscle memory, I went to tie up my hair only to remember I had cut it all off and resorted to simply run my fingers through the birds nest. After I was satisfied enough that it was alright, I went to the bathroom attached to my room-which I didn't share with anyone thankfully, being one of the earliest inhabitants of the place- in Grimmauld Place. I closed the door behind me and heaved a great sigh.

Washing my face and everything, I wondered when these night terrors would stop. I cursed some colorful words I learned from Sirius when I dropped my toothbrush into the sink because of a sudden twitch of my forefinger. The Cruciatus had left me with not only trauma but also a physical injury that didn't seem to heal. I spread my fingers far and stretched them considerably before making a fist. Then I repeated the process a few times until I felt sufficient blood circulating through them. The Healers had told me something about a palmar aponeurosis and how it can be damaged if I didn't provide it sufficient physical therapy-hand work, stretching, massages-following the long term Dark Magic that was inflicted upon me.

After I was done washing up without any more muscle spasms, I walked out of the bathroom into the corridor, massaging some pressure points in my palm only to nearly jump out of my skin when Harry stepped out abruptly in the hallway too. He squinted at me through sleep laden eyes as I massaged my chest from the near heartattack I just had.

"Why are you awake?" he whispered, closing the door behind him and coming near to me.

"I woke up. Nightmares-why are you awake?"

"Same."

Realizing we were far too sleepy and tired to make a conversation, the two of us walked down the stairs in silence past the heads of Kreacher's ancestors, and into the kitchen. I saw he didn't have home slippers. I noted to buy him a pair before he returned from the hearing.

I had expected the kitchen to be empty, but it was not. When we reached the door I heard the soft rumble of voices on the other side and when I pushed it open I saw Mr and Mrs Weasley, Sirius, Remus, and Tonks sitting there almost as though they were waiting for Harry.

All were fully dressed except Mrs Weasley, who was wearing a quilted, purple dressing gown. She leapt to her feet the moment we entered. "Breakfast," she said as she pulled out her wand and hurried over to the fire.

"M-m-morning, Harry, Skylar," yawned Tonks. Her hair was blonde and curly this morning. "Sleep all right?"

"Yeah," said Harry.

"I've b-b-been up all night," she said, with another shuddering yawn. "Come and sit down. . . " She drew out a chair, knocking over the one beside it in the process.

"How do they let you be an Auror when you're this clumsy?" I asked as I straightened the chair she knocked over and sat on it.

"D-d-dunno."