the lucky one

almost kisses & visions of snakes dancing in their heads

"Ron! Ron! Wake up! Something's wrong with Harry!" Miranda shakes Ron frantically, as the boy in he bed adjacent continues to thrash.

    "Wha—whassamatter, what's going on?" Ron mumbles groggily, eyes widening as he sees the scene before him.

    "Get McGonagall now!" Miranda commands, at this point other members of Gryffindor have risen due to the commotion. Ron jumps out of bed and runs to fetch the professor, while Miranda goes to Harry's bedside.

    "Harry? Harry I'm here, are you okay?" She takes his hand in hers. As soon as she does her eye flashes bright green and she descends into a terrifying scene. Her thoughts are overwhelmed with others as she recognizes Mr. Weasley, cowering on the floor of the Ministry. A snake strikes him again and again, blood pouring. Miranda is petrified, it's like she can hear the snake's voice inside her head, that and the screams of Mr. Weasley. And then just as soon as it has started, it stops.

    "Harry— Miranda! HARRY! " Miranda opens her eyes with a gasp of breath, her head surging with an unbearable pain. She nearly collapses to the floor as she crawls away from Harry's bedside.

    "Miranda!" Ron is standing over her looking extremely frightened. Beside her, Harry has toppled out of his bed, sheets twisted around him. He was drenched with sweat. Miranda clutches her head, practically writhing in sheer agony. She rolls over and vomits onto the rug.

    "Should we call someone?" A voice says, frightened. Miranda can't recognize it, her head throbs as she tries to pull herself upright. She has an overwhelming feeling that Harry needs her, almost like she can hear his own pain. "Harry! Harry!" And Ron— his dad, she has to tell someone— she has to— the pain is blinding.

    "Your dad," Harry pants to Ron, having managed to steady himself. "Your dad's . . . been attacked. . . ."

    "What?" says Ron uncomprehendingly.

    "Your dad! He's been bitten, it's serious, there was blood everywhere..."

    "I'm going for help." Miranda hears footsteps running out of the dormitory, and she takes several large gulps of air. Harry is right. She's seen it too. But how—

    "Harry, mate," says Ron uncertainly, "you..you were just dreaming..."

    "No!" Harry cried out furiously; it was crucial that Ron understand. "It wasn't a dream . . . not an ordinary dream. . . . I was there, I saw it. ...Idid it...."

    "He's right," Miranda insists weakly, shaking with the effort of it. Her whole body is trembling, and her eyes are unfocused. She feels dizzy, and retches again, "I— saw it too. Ron— he's hurt bad, we have to—"

    "Harry— Miranda, you're not well," Ron stammers. "We went for help."

    "I'm fine!" Harry chokes. "There's nothing wrong with me, it's your dad you've got to worry about — we need to find out where he is — he's bleeding like mad — I was — it was a huge snake. . . ."

    "Ron he was at the ministry," Miranda pleads, holding on to the bedpost for support. "I swear Harry's not lying. I saw him too— I saw it..."

    "You saw it?" whispers Harry, finally registering her presence. Miranda grabs his hand, nodding tightly. "You saw it," Harry breathes shakily.

    "Over here, Professor . . ." Professor McGonagall comes hurrying into the dormitory in her tartan dressing gown, her glasses perched lopsidedly on the bridge of her bony nose.

    Miranda has never been more relieved to see her aunt.     "What is going on here?" McGonagall rushes over, brisk and to the point. "Miranda what— what happened? Mr. Potter?"