𝖂ith every suck of air she took between her lips and nostrils, her body ached to feel anything emotion besides the dullness in her chest. Her bones sagged with a sharp bitterness, a freezing cold sensation that caused her bones to clack and shiver inside her body. There was a feeling of never returning when standing in the presence of one who felt so tiny, of one who felt nothing.

     At the time, she wished she paid more attention to Harry when he spoke of him. It was both a sense of ignorance and pity that she hadn't originally, she didn't think a day would come when she would see him face to face, and she also didn't wish to put Harry through the memory of seeing him again.

       It was intoxicating, being in the same room as a killer. She couldn't even call him a person; he didn't qualify as one in her mind, even if he did look like a man. His eyes were crimson, like trickles of blood smeared upon floors and bodies. No slight of humanity dripping in them, only insanity and thirst for power. He was deathly pale, almost translucent against the black robe he wore. His face was sunken in, pointy in a way that didn't allow him to have a nose. Only two tiny slits where she suspected a nose should be, and his lips disappeared and were nonexistent. Crooked, yellow teeth bared sharply every time he spoke and smiled. She was horrified that his tongue had been split into two, like a snake in all its rights.

       He was anything but human, and her skin crawled anytime his eyes flickered at her.

        He had arrived with only two others. One was a hunched-over man who was terrible with white hair flying in strings. He snickered and winced, tiny hands coming up to his face occasionally; she had noticed that one of his pinkies was gone. One hand was made of metal, silver against his sickly pale skin, buck teeth sticking out from behind his lips. She didn't choose to look at this man long; she felt her lip curl every time he flinched like a coward.

       The last, well, it was hardly human. It slithered around the floor, for it was a snake. Much like its owner, it held an atmosphere of darkness. It had snaked itself around her chair at one point, causing her body to stiffen like a rock as its tongue stuck out against her ankle. It tasted her as if it sensed how she differed from the rest. She suspected it was eyeing her like it was its next meal; that thought made her heart pound again.

        They sat for an hour at the long table, her body tense with every word, whisper, and movement someone made in the light as they ate. Her appetite was non-existent, but she stuffed food down her throat and into her stomach anyway, too afraid to do much else.

         Until finally, the other shoe dropped.

          "Young Mr.Flint, I hear you're interested in my plans," Voldermort's voice was as cold as ice, swirling around them and demanding attention. Winnie's eyes were glued to her plate, watching from the corner of her eye as Marcus froze in his seat.

        "I am, Dark Lord," Winnie wondered what he was doing, how he could look him in the eye and agree. "Yes," he answered, clearing his throat as he dabbed at his mouth, shoulders straightening as he sat up straighter. The pendant on her chest weighed her down; she had a choice; she knew she would have to use it soon. But then she remembered they had no choice but this or death.

         "Your father said you were a smart boy, come boy," Voldemort drawled his chair, pushing back as he stood. Winnie tore her eyes away from her plate and then looked at her cousin, who was staring with his hands clenched in his seat. She eyed him, knowing this would be the end. For a moment, she wished to throw the portkey at him, hoping he to disappear and herself to deal with the outcome.

           Cordelia would want her brother safe; she had already lost one and couldn't lose another. So Winnie did the one act she knew how to pretend to be brave. Her chair screeched against the floor as she pushed it back, hand coming to land against Marcus' shoulder, keeping him down as she spoke, "No." Her voice boomed around the room, everyone's eyes landing on hers. Millicent's wide eyes widened, taking in her sister as her fingers gripped the wooden handles of her chair. Her parents were staring daggers at her, and she knew in their eyes she was as good as dead. Carlton Buldstrode, who sat across from his son, was staring at her with a look of bewilderment, stunned by her sudden outburst.

         "Winnie, what the hell are you," she cut Marcus off with a squeeze of her fingers, her eyes meeting his. Watched his eyes grow to the side of boulders, panic squaring in them like a thousand storms. She smiled, squeezing his shoulder once more as she summoned bravery to her core.

         "Cordelia needs her brother," she replied simply, watching as his eyes flashed in realization. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, she had turned. Her eyes landed on the reason behind so much terror, the reason behind so much hatred and pain. Her breath stuck in her throat as his red eyes twisted around her. His snake lay at his feet, tongue flickering at it hissed. Yes, dinner she would be.

        "Miss Bulstrode, quite the dramatics," Voldemort drawled, twirling the wand ( her father's, she noticed ) in his bony hands. Long nails clicked against the wood as he walked towards her, her lips pressing into a line as she clenched her fist, choosing not to run. "The Gryffindor, I presume?" He questioned, eyes twisting to her parents, staring at them with fear.

         "Yes, my Lord. I apologize; she has never been one to listen," her father started, voice stern and filled with disgust as Voldemort threw up his hand, stopping any words that wished to leave his mouth. Red eyes stared harshly into brown, her skin crawling as he finally reached her, his snake at his heels.

         "You lions always had the dramatics for being stubborn," he drawled, eyes flicking over her face as she stood still. "What are you planning to do here? Surely you must have a plan? After all, you just interrupted my plans for yours." She didn't have a plan.

           "I won't let you hurt him," she seethed, words cutting string as the man that was everything that made up a snake laughed at her words. Catching her off guard as she stiffened, before she knew it, his hand was wrapped around her throat, their bodies flying back in a whirl of black until finally, she landed harshly on the wall. Her head hit with a sharp crack, tasting blood from her teeth biting down on her tongue. Her vision blurred, seeing black dots as pain emitted from her head. Nails dug into the sides of her neck as he squeezed, causing her eyes to widen slightly, fingers reaching up to scrape at the bitter coldness of his skin.

         "How will a fifteen-year-old girl stop me?" He breathed, sneering as his breath swirled around her face. She was sure if she could live, she would vomit from the smell that clasped around her. Vile and full of years of colouring and unkempt in his thirst for power. She whimpered as his fingers slackened, causing her chest to heave heavily as she sucked in the air. Brown eyes filled to the rim with tears, pain shooting through her body with every breath, every move.

         "A baby stopped you; I'm sure it's not that hard," she grinned, fearful of losing a source of satisfaction through her body. Watching as his face fell for only a moment before he hit back just as hard. His hand left his throat as she fell, slumping against the wall; she took that moment to slip her wand out of the pocket in her dress. She turned to raise it just as another voice rang around them.

        "Stop! Don't, I'll do it. I'll take the mark; you don't have to hurt her," Marcus yelled, his chair throwing back as he stood. Voldemort swirled to look at him, her feet swaying as she pushed herself to stand up. Ignoring the heat that stirred the back of her head, forgetting how her body screamed in protest, she raised her hand, tearing the portkey off her chest while raising her wand.

          Her eyes caught Marcus' over her shoulder, watching as he stared at her with fear. Merlin, she hoped Cordelia wouldn't hate her forever. She raised her hand back, throwing the pendant through the air as Marcus noticed. "Put it in your mouth," she yelled as it sailed through the air, away from her, away from her out.

         She didn't look to see if he caught her or if he vanished; she only raised her wand and barked out a loud Stupefy. At the same time, her own body was thrown across the room, taking her by surprise and causing her spell to hit the roof instead. Her body fell harshly against the floor, causing a snapping sound to fly through the room as she landed on her arm. Her lips opened as she screamed, squeezing her eyes shut as pain coiled through her left arm. Her teeth nipped down harshly on her bottom lip, her body twisting to the other side as she tried to blink through the haze in her vision.

          Just as someone screamed around her, a body collapsed with hers as a loud crash fell through the ground. Before she could process what was happening, something sharp emitted itself into her right eyebrow. Causing blind pain to roll through her face, her vision blurred again as warm liquid started to trickle down her pale face.

            "You're so fucking stupid," she heard someone mutter as she felt her mouth pried open, a silver, copper-tasting object laid against her tongue with a string resting against her chin. "Why did you do that? Why the fuck did you—" The words of someone she could half realize was Marcus Flint speaking swirled away as her world turned into a series of colours.

            Before she knew it, she landed on top of a warm surface. Soft blankets swirled around her, and a yell floated around her before a scream for help reached her ears. As her eyes rolled to the back of her head, she could half feel someone's hand placing itself under her head, but before she could question it, her world gave away to black, and the nightmare finally ended.

༺♥༻

             𝕾he awoke with a gasp, eyes wide as her body shot forward. Only for a sharp cry to tumble out of her lips as pain twisted through her back. She grimaced, blinking blindly through the pain, her teeth gritting together as she looked around her surroundings, slowly her mind as she tried to remember what had happened.

         Then finally, it hit her like a dam being broken open. It crashed around her like waves, sending her flying back through time. Sending her back to where she starred in the eyes of a killer, sending her back to when she was willing to die to save her cousins, both of them in a way she was sure they wouldn't understand.

        Did she do it? Was she dead?

       Her eyes blinked, saliva swallowing down her throat, causing pain surrounding it as she twitched. With a sharp pang in her chest, she realized she failed. Her eyes took in the room, finding two other beds facing her own, light only flickering from the slight golden hues of candles floating around the room with magic. Boxes piled up in the far corner; she took a short notice at the Hogwarts trunks at the end of the two beds. She wasn't dead then; that meant one thing.

         Her lip trembled as she began to shake her head; what was she thinking? For what? She tried, tried to do the right thing, and failed. It didn't matter; surely Marcus would take the mark now if he didn't die because of her.

         He could be dead now.

        Her fingers began to shake despite the pain trickling in her left arm, her lip trembling as she shoved back the blankets. She had to know and make sure he was okay; if he was dead, she would never forgive herself. Cordelia would be left alone, and it would be all her fault.

       Cordelia!

        They told each other everything, and Winnie betrayed it. How could she explain this to her? She kept her in the dark about everything; fear of breaking her cousin, fear of putting too much on her cousin, overthrowing the bond they had formed since childhood. She kept the most important thing from her: the price she had to pay.

        Bare feet hit the floor, legs shaking slightly as she braced her body weight against the wall. Pain shot through her body, and her teeth ground against each other with each step. She had no idea where she was; she just knew she had to get answers. She had to get something. By the time she reached the door, sweat was kissing the crown of her head, flash flushed, and her hands shaking once more. Sighing heavily, she twisted open the door handle, exposing herself to a long hallway full of closed doors and no one in sight.

          "Of bloody course not," she croaked, her voice coming out as a whisper as she pushed herself against the wall again. Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth as she tried to listen for voices, a sound of feet, of sounding anything. She knew her pendant was connected to Harry, but she started seriously questioning Hermione's magic just as she heard footsteps walking toward her. "Thank Merlin," she whispered, allowing herself to fall against the floor. Back landing against the wall as she laid her feet out; only then did she notice she was changed. No longer wearing the fine silk and was now dressed in plaid pyjama pants and a knitted sweater with the letter 'H' sewn into the middle. Before she could question it further, the footsteps stopped before her.

        "I know, I bet I look dazzling, but please, can you—" her voice cut off as her eyes caught sight of who was standing before her. Long shaggy black hair falling in lines, sunken grey eyes staring at her with a beard covering his tanned skin. Dressed in a purple robe with tattoos stuck out against his skin, she blinked, stunned, before her eyes widened as she quickly patted herself, searching for her wand that was nowhere to be found. "I'm gonna kill Harry Potter; what the fuck?" She screamed, or at least tried, for her voice came out as nothing more than a hoarse jumble of words. He sent her to an insane murder home? And to think, she was gonna set him up with her cousin!

        "Sirius? What are you doing— oh!" Harry's voice came around the corner as Winnie's eyes snapped up to him, her body currently trying to push itself off and keeping a hand outstretched for the older male to stay away from her. "Winnie! What are you doing? You—"

        "Harry Potter, when I don't—" deep breath in. "feel like I was run over—" deep breath in again. "by a herd of fucking Hippogriffs—" breathe. "I'm gonna kill you myself. I don't—" breathe. "care if you're the blood Chosen one—" breathe. "there's a murder here!" Her words would've sounded more threatening if she didn't have to stop and take a deep breath every two seconds. "Why can't I fucking breathe?" She added furiously, stumbling as she tried to pull herself up, only to narrow her eyes as she saw Harry try to come over and help her. All the while, said murder broke out in a loud laugh, his head falling back. Suddenly she forgot all about wishing to kill Harry, for her eyes fell on Sirius Black, who was laughing as if she said the funniest thing in the world.

      What the bloody hell is going on?

       Harry had taken her moment of surprise as his opportunity to come over and wrap an arm around her waist, holding her up so she didn't have to try and keep her balance anymore.

       "Can someone bloody explain what's going on?" She questioned, snapping as her eyes narrowed at Harry, who was flushing deeply. Her arm fell around his shoulders, holding herself up.

       "Oh, I like her. Can we keep her?" Sirius questioned, smiling as Winnie's eyes widened.

      "Excuse me?"

       "Sirius."

      "Alright, alright," Sirius spoke, holding his hands up before looking at Winnie, who was staring at him with narrowed eyes. "I'm Sirius Black; I'm not a murderer, but thanks for the laugh. You're in my home, will the Order headquarters; I probably can't tell you that, so forget I said anything. You're Winnie Buldstrode, and I must say, you don't look any better than the day you showed up here. Thanks for that; really nice to have some excitement here; been bored, stuck in this bloody house; oh, and I'm gonna call you Poppin now. Alright? Good," Sirius turned, yelling over his shoulder that if she wanted Firewhiskey to come and find him.

       Winnie watched, wide-eyed and mouth agape, as the man turned and disappeared behind a corner. Her mind swirled with every word he spoke, feeling a headache coming on. She wasn't sure if it had anything to do with the fact that she was thrown around like a rag doll or that she was just barked at like it was nothing. Her attention was towards Harry, who grimaced slightly as he watched her eyes narrow.

       "Er, before you question me, let's get you back to bed before Molly finds you. You aren't supposed to be up," he paused, eyes floating to the side of her face as her eyebrows furrowed. "You have a lot of injuries," he spoke more quietly, his lips titled to a frown as her own fell to mimic his. The reality of the situation hit her again, her heart falling against her chest as she allowed him to help her back to the room she came from.

        "I failed Harry," she whispered, tears kissing her cheeks as she kept her eyes against the ground. She felt him tense slightly under her before he helped her sit back against her pillows. "I failed her," she added again, lips trembling as her mind trailed back to her cousin, who had lost one brother, and Winnie feared she may have lost another.

        Harry softly sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, watching as tears ran down her cheeks and pooled onto the fabric of her sweater, dropping from the marks on her chin. The bruise that covered her throat shined purple under the flickering light, and for a moment, Harry thought Winnie Buldstrode had never looked more broken than she had at that moment.

      "Failed who?" He questioned softly, his hand reaching for hers, too afraid to hurt her further if he went forward and hugged her. Instead, he clasped his hand tightly in hers, thankful that she squeezed back just as tight.

         "Cordelia," she whispered before her tears overtook her body, and she began sobbing. Eyes cast downwards, and her body shuddering from the effects of her crying, Harry's breath faltered in his throat. Heating the name of the girl who had managed to become every waking thought he endured, fear ran through his bloodstream as he ravaged forward, taking his hand from Winnie's and instead placing it against her chin. She flinched violently, only for him to cower back, moving away from his hand.

       "Winnie, is Cordelia ... was she there?" He asked softly, squeezing her hand again as he watched her shake her head. "Is she hurt?" He questioned again, watching again as Winnie shook her head. Selfishly, a breath of relief left his system, thanking god that the brunette female wasn't hurt. The feeling was quickly replaced by concern for the blonde before him, "Why do you feel like you failed her?"

        This time, Winnie's eyes looked up and met him. Brown was pooling and twinning with tears as they fell down her cheeks. "Marcus might not be okay," she whispered before a sob left her mouth again, her hand covering her lips as she sobbed violently. Harry grimaced, never being comfortable with people crying or emotions. He chewed on the inside of his cheek before deciding not to question it too much as he reached forward and hugged her gently, letting her cry against him.

       Her emotions pour out of her without the judgement of anyone else for the first time in months, and yet, she has never felt more empty.

EDITED MAY 19TH /  voldymoldy