Nightmares
I'm walking out into the back garden, my mind on the projects I need to work on: the new varieties of House Plants, pollinating the dancing daffodils, writing the next chapter in my book… I turn and look over my shoulder to see Hannah, her hair plaited, sitting at a table by the house, quill moving over parchment, books surrounding her. I wave and she smiles and waves back before returning to her work.
I turn back to the greenhouse, stopping along the way to prune a few dead blooms from the flutterby bush--
And there is a scream from the house, a horrible, awful, terror filled-scream, a scream filled with anguish. I pull my wand and run back to the house. Spells are flying, red, green, purple, orange…the scream comes again, and I know it's Hannah, and she's writhing on the ground and I see the blonde of Malfoy's hair and hear the sick cackle of Bellatrix Lestrange. A sickly green light flashes and I see it as it barrels its way towards Hannah; there's no way she can escape, no matter what I do--
I bolt upright in bed, panting and out of breath as if I've just run the entire way from the greenhouse to the Manor. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I blindly grope until I feel Hannah in the bed beside me, warm and breathing. She rolls to her side when I touch her, snuggling back into the blanket and sighing,
My heart is still racing and I try to calm myself, try to go back to sleep. The dream is still too vivid in my mind, no matter what I do. Closing my eyes only makes the images more real. I check the clock beside the bed and groan: half-two. I still have hours until it's time to get up.
My breathing eventually slows, but I'm still feeling unsettled, uncomfortable. Unsafe. After tossing and turning for what seems like hours, I give up and get out of bed, heading to the kitchen, where I brew a cup of tea.
I thought I was done with the nightmares. There was a time, when the war was at its height and I didn't know whether my friends -- or I -- would survive from day to day, that I didn't go a night without one. They lasted for months after the war, becoming rarer when I was away from England, stopping almost completely once Hannah moved in.
But they've never been this bad. I still can't get the picture of the green light of the Avada Kadavra flying towards Hannah or Bellatrix's obscene laughter out of my mind. I don't know if I've ever been so terrified in my life.
The kettle whistles and I jump, startled. Damn nerves. I lean against the counter and drink my tea, letting the warmth soothe me. When I'm done, I put the cup in the sink and go to the front door of the flat, casting protection charms, adding hexes directed at unwanted visitors. I block the floo, charming the fireplace, then do the windows and the back door. We've already done this, Hannah and I, but it can't hurt to reinforce them.
When I'm done, I sit on the couch and stare at the fire, my wand at the ready, until, exhausted, I fall asleep
I turn back to the greenhouse, stopping along the way to prune a few dead blooms from the flutterby bush--
And there is a scream from the house, a horrible, awful, terror filled-scream, a scream filled with anguish. I pull my wand and run back to the house. Spells are flying, red, green, purple, orange…the scream comes again, and I know it's Hannah, and she's writhing on the ground and I see the blonde of Malfoy's hair and hear the sick cackle of Bellatrix Lestrange. A sickly green light flashes and I see it as it barrels its way towards Hannah; there's no way she can escape, no matter what I do--
I bolt upright in bed, panting and out of breath as if I've just run the entire way from the greenhouse to the Manor. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I blindly grope until I feel Hannah in the bed beside me, warm and breathing. She rolls to her side when I touch her, snuggling back into the blanket and sighing,
My heart is still racing and I try to calm myself, try to go back to sleep. The dream is still too vivid in my mind, no matter what I do. Closing my eyes only makes the images more real. I check the clock beside the bed and groan: half-two. I still have hours until it's time to get up.
My breathing eventually slows, but I'm still feeling unsettled, uncomfortable. Unsafe. After tossing and turning for what seems like hours, I give up and get out of bed, heading to the kitchen, where I brew a cup of tea.
I thought I was done with the nightmares. There was a time, when the war was at its height and I didn't know whether my friends -- or I -- would survive from day to day, that I didn't go a night without one. They lasted for months after the war, becoming rarer when I was away from England, stopping almost completely once Hannah moved in.
But they've never been this bad. I still can't get the picture of the green light of the Avada Kadavra flying towards Hannah or Bellatrix's obscene laughter out of my mind. I don't know if I've ever been so terrified in my life.
The kettle whistles and I jump, startled. Damn nerves. I lean against the counter and drink my tea, letting the warmth soothe me. When I'm done, I put the cup in the sink and go to the front door of the flat, casting protection charms, adding hexes directed at unwanted visitors. I block the floo, charming the fireplace, then do the windows and the back door. We've already done this, Hannah and I, but it can't hurt to reinforce them.
When I'm done, I sit on the couch and stare at the fire, my wand at the ready, until, exhausted, I fall asleep