𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 | 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘗𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳

38 || Returning Senses

Day after day passed by in a blur. Dumbledore called me to his office to officially deliver the news.

I don't cry.

That was my mantra; that was my connection to reality; that was the only thing I could do.

The holiday break had started, and Hermione and Ron had chosen to stay at Hogwarts to keep Harry and I company. It was lucky. If I had had to attend classes, my grades would've slipped. A lot.

I faintly remember writing letter after letter to Maren, never sending them, because where would they go? My hand would seize up after writing for hours, always the same words, over and over;

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I don't cry.

Hermione and Ron talked to me, but their voices sounded faint and far away; the only person I could really hear was Dante, who upon hearing the news decided to stay at Hogwarts. I didn't see much of Harry, and frankly, I didn't care.

Dante's arms were like a safe space- sometimes I could break out of my reverie and have a conversation, and sometimes his faint whispers of kisses would bring me back long enough to notice where I was.

I don't cry.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

While I didn't hear what Dumbledore said I understood enough.

Everyone back home, back in the orphanage, had been killed by a fire.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I felt like it was my fault; I wish I could've done something.

I don't cry.

And while Hermione, cradling me in her arms, tears dripping down her cheeks, told me that it was okay, that there was nothing I could've done, it didn't change the way I felt.

I'm sorry.

I found myself with Dante more and more, until one day he didn't come into the common room, like he usually did. And I noticed.

Maybe it was the break of routine, maybe it was just time, or maybe the universe was telling me I needed to listen, because it felt like water had been emptied from my ears and I could hear again, I could focus, and I didn't have to repeat my mantras to myself.

I was there, but not fully.

It'd have to do.

"Harry, listen," said Hermione. She was looking at him seriously. "You must be really upset about what we heard. But the thing is, you mustn't go doing anything stupid."

I turned around to look at them, and they were so deep in conversation they didn't notice my less-glassy-than-usual stare.

"Like what?" said Harry.

"Like trying to go after Black," said Ron sharply.

"You won't, will you, Harry?" said Hermione.

"Because Black's not worth dying for," said Ron.

"D'you know what I see and hear every time a Dementor gets too near me?" Ron and Hermione shook their heads, looking apprehensive. "I can hear my mum screaming and pleading with Voldemort. And if you'd heard your mum screaming like that, just about to be killed, you wouldn't forget it in a hurry. And if you found out someone who was supposed to be a friend of hers betrayed her and sent Voldemort after her--"