Painful Dreams

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        A month passed by in a blur. Schoolwork and classes became a welcome distraction from the ever present thoughts lurking within my mind and the array of colors around me. I looked down at the doodle on the corner of my parchment and felt an irritated sigh escape me. It was a tiny doodle, one of a hollow figure with blackness shaded around their form.

The sound of a book slamming shut broke me out of my stupor.

"Right, are you going to talk to him already or not?" Hermione's voice huffed.

"What?" My brows furrowed as another doodle looked up at me from my parchment. She scowled and nodded towards my unfinished assignment. How was it my fault that I couldn't write an essay on the uses of porcupine quills in one go like her?

"You know very well what I mean. I'm tired of you tracking his every movement!"

"Hermione, what are you talking about? All I do all day is go to class, eat and then go to the library. Like you!"

She rolled her eyes. "All you do is try not to look or stare at Draco Malfoy in class or in the Great Hall. And you don't even do any work here in the library! You just doodle those weird figures all day," she whisper-yelled.

"I don't stare at him! I just..." my jaw clenched. How would I even begin explaining to her that day in the Astronomy Tower? How the darkness inside him just infected me like a disease.

"You know something, don't you?" she moved closer, her whispering voice dipping even lower. "Is it about...what Harry thinks it's about?"

"No! No, I don't know anything. Hang on, what is Harry thinking about?"

Hermione looked at me for a moment longer, her inquisitive brown eyes narrowing as if making a promise that she would find out what I was hiding in the end. Then she sighed, and the trance was broken. "Oh, it's silly, really." She huffed once more, her mouth pursing in irritation. "He thinks Malfoy is a...well, a Death Eater."

"We all knew that, Hermione. His family is filled with them," I said matter-of-factly because it was so. I had called him a Death Eater on a number of occasions. But Hermione simply shook her head gravely.

"No...he thinks he's gotten the mark. He's actually joined and working for You-Know-Who at this very moment."

I expected my stomach to roll, or to feel a jarring shock run through my body but I realized...I already knew. I had figured it out shortly after that fateful night. How else could such darkness seep inside someone so young and harmless as Malfoy? Even so, goosebumps rose on my skin.

"If that's true, then we're in big trouble."

That night, sleep came quickly. Usually I'd stay up for a few hours, listening to the quiet breathing of the castle at night because sleep wasn't restful these days. No, they were plagued with nightmares that only served to remind me what my father looked like when he was killed. How his eyes stared unblinking into the darkness as my mother screamed over him.

Tonight, however, the dream changed. It wasn't my father being killed, it was Gabriel. Then it was my mother. All the while I wept over their bodies. Finally, the scene changed completely and it was just me and a man with a hooded cloak. He took out his wand, as did I, and threw a spell at me faster than I could blink.

"Crucio!" the man's voice spat. My body immediately erupted in invisible flames but my skin was ice cold. A dozen white-hot knives stabbed my flesh over and over until I felt as if my internal organs were chopped to pieces. The convulsions wouldn't stop until my teeth clamped down on my lip to muffle my agony and as a result, blood began to pour down my chin in droplets from the cut I made. The curse was lifted and my body screamed with relief, blood bubbling up from within my throat. "So weak. At least that filthy excuse of a man you call your father put up a fight. Although, not a good one at that. I watched as he took his last sweet breathe from his dying lips. You filthy blood traitors deserve this! And so much more!" he snarled the last part, kicking my ribs. Pain hit me in waves, cutting off my oxygen.

"You son of a bitch!" was all that I could manage between my coughing fits. He laughed an inhumane, dark laugh. God, he was like a real stereotype. Some part of me deep down wanted to laugh but fear diluted my system too much.

"Tsk, tsk. Didn't that bloodtraitor mother of yours teach you to respect those who are above you?" he said disapprovingly. He turned and started to walk away, laughter following his trail. It took every ounce of strength left within me to stand and face this predator before me.

"Sectumsempra!" my hoarse voice choked out. My father had once given me a book on dark magic. He trusted me to learn it objectively and not let it consume me. I learned all the spells within in case there came a time where one would be used against me. Never thought I'd actually use one.

The man blocked it and grabbed me by my shirt, effectively back handing me across the face. "You insolent bitch. Is that all you got?" He snorted mockingly. "Your father was just the beginning, just the first act. Wait until I get to the grand finale with that traitorous mother of yours." When he saw the ferocity in my eyes, a gleam entered his. "Hmm, who knows, I might just have a little fun with her while I'm at it." He dropped me like a rag doll and disappeared in a swirl of black smoke.

I awoke in pain. The after effects of the curse then the beating had actually transferred from the dream to reality. I wasn't bleeding, not on the outside at least, but there were bruises covering my body and my face and my ribs throbbed. I couldn't breathe. I looked to the window and saw that it was still very dark outside. A sob threatened to escape this battered body of mine but I swallowed it, forcing my limbs to get off the bed slowly and move towards the bathroom. Every breath I took felt as if it was my last but I knew it was just the broken ribs. I looked at the mirror, at what in just a few hours, I had become and clenched my bloody teeth against a scream.

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