Extinguished 🩵 Harry Potter [2]

vi ⟶ The Dream Team

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vi. The Dream Team
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HER SCREAM RIPPLES throughout the trees as they land roughly on their feet in the middle of another forest. 

There isn't a sound, apart from that of the odd animal or gust of wind, that accompanies them as they walk through a scene that doesn't seem to change, until the blue sky melts into a pale orange, then a light purple, and then an inky navy, so that they have to take out their wands and light the tips to even see their shoes.

"Where in the name of Merlin –"

"Shut up, I can hear something – look, over there, it looks like a Patronus and – who's that following it?!" Ron starts in a hiss, but ends in an excited babble, his wand outstretched in front of him as he starts to walk.

Thea swallows her trepidation and follows suit, keeping glancing over her shoulder.

"Ron, I don't like this, I really don't –"

"Thea, just be quiet! I think it's Harry!"

"What?"

"What's he doing in there? Look!"

Thea glances down to where the boy is frantically pointing; there's an iced over lake, but sure enough, there is Harry, clothes stripped off and climbing in. Thea and Ron break into panicked runs, and it's as Ron dives frantically into the black, icy current that her heart lurches so violently she thinks she might be sick.

Harry's here.

"Ron, be careful!" she calls.

She finds her fingers winding into her loose hair and tugging out of horrid, heavy anxiety. It's minutes before Ron manages to drag Harry from the pool, and Thea manages to latch onto one of their arms each to help. They're both face down on the bank, trembling and coughing and spluttering, their breathing laboured and splintered.

Harry's here. He's really here.

"Harry! Oh my God, are you alright?"

The boy jerks up into a standing position, and the first thing Thea notices is the perfectly oval scald on his chest. She can't stop herself from flying towards him, her hands landing on his shoulders, that are so cold it even startles her.

"You're freezing, love." She says softly, her eyes wide and glassy as they stare up at his face. But he's averting her gaze so obviously that a lump starts to build and ache in her throat.

"Harry, please look at me."

There's a second's pause before he does, and all she can see is torment, like he wants to pull her in and kiss her to make up for lost time, but he doesn't. He just looks at her like she asks, before he pushes her away, a little hard so that she stumbles, and all she can do is watch in quiet despair as he reaches for the clothes he left on the ground, in a way to get away from her.

"Why the hell didn't you take this thing off before you dived?" Ron asks Harry as he pulls jumper after jumper over his almost convulsing body.

"It was y-you?"

"Well, yeah."

"You cast that doe?"

"What? No, of course not! I thought it was you doing it!"

"It wasn't me, my Patronus is a tiger," Thea adds quietly. The only indication that she's heard is that they both glance at her for a moment.

"My Patronus is a stag."