Summers POV
"I can't believe you've done this,"
"Well you better believe it son, because it's happening,"
"But this is all so stupid, why don't you just leave her alone?"
"Because I need her. And him. Now shut up, before I do something that I really won't regret. But you will,"
I slowly open my eyes, hearing the last voice I'd actually want to hear.
"Morning honey, have a good sleep?" The traitor leans in, staring into my eyes, making me cast my eyes down in disgust.
"Aww, c'mon, I was only asking," a hand softly pulls my chin up. I find myself staring into blue eyes, eyes that I sadly inherited.
I abruptly move my head to the side, refusing to meet my fathers penetrating gaze.
"Now now, sweetheart, stop it with the attitude or like your little friends, you too will be punished. Can't have my little girl with no manners, now, can I? It's just not the way you were raised," he scoffs, and this time I meet his mocking gaze with a look of fury.
"How dare you say that? You didn't even have enough guts to stick around while I was raised! I was raised with more manners than you'll ever have. And I know what you done, done to my mother. I'll never forgive you," I spit in his face. He leans back, and the first thing I register on his face is surprise.
"Oh? And how'd you figure this one out? Clever girl, just like your dad," he winks, and the feeling of fury inside of me begins to grow.
I decide to look around the room, trying to find a way out. Instead, I am greeted by a steel door, and four boys tied to the wall. Two appear to be unconscious, while the other two are watching my fathers every move with eyes filled with hatred.
"I am nothing like you," I whisper, and he laughs.
"Oh sweetheart, you're just like me," he gloats, and I groan inwardly.
"No, I'm not," I retort, and he waves a hand in the air.
"You're proving my point as we speak," he mutters to himself.
"So, let's get down to business. How do we activate this magic spell thingy?" He says suddenly, standing up. I look over at one of the unconscious boys, and try to ignore the warm feeling in my stomach as I try to decide what to do about escaping.
"What are you talking about? Are you crazy?" Harry laughs, and my father walks up to him slowly. He strokes Harry's cheek slowly. A sudden feeling of fear and panic jolts through me as a memory comes rushing through my head. More like a dream, but as vivid as a memory.
Could my dream come true? Literally? No, no, no, no, no.
Oh God Harry, what have you done?
