Book 1: Of Thorns & Roses

23: Devout Temptation

A crashing wave barreled through my frigid body as I sat idly by to the whispers that circled like the mumbling of a fly. My body trampled over the sincere possibility that The Grim was edging towards my demise as if to fulfill its morbid meaning.

A voice that was both beautiful and haunting, warm and bitter, old and young echoed its slithering words into my despaired ear.

You shall be nothing once more.

I couldn't decipher the voice... it was my own, Draco's, my mother's, Hermione's, Harry's, and Ron's like each soul beckoned for my imminent expiration.

I slowly rose from my place on the floor of the Gryffindor common room, my thoughts endlessly bounding towards a fatal ending.

Or something far worse.

"Grier, where are you going?" whispered Harry from his seat on the leather couch.

I filed through a possible explanation for my exit before murmuring, "I'm tired and classes begin again tomorrow."

I mustered up a small smile before heading out of the room and wandering through the corridors of the massive castle. Their worried whispers fleaing after me.

Damp sorrow etched itself within every bone, which threatened to crumble with each step I took towards the dungeon. Confusion possessed my senses leaving a tang of misfortune in its wake.

Would my life be seamlessly ripped away from me? Was the dream a cry of warning for what was to come? And what of my mother?

Those words and thumping sentences enveloped my attention. So much so that I hadn't noticed Draco standing before my ever saddening soul. Damn, I was being pathetic.

"What happened?" His face was painted in extreme distress and worry as he strode to comfort me. His strong arms lapped around me in silent euphoria. "Baby, what happened?"

His voice became more pleading and worrisome as I responded, "I think... I think that something terrible is about to happen." Words that now trickled from my tongue like honey at their constant presence. "I feel like that bird Seamus ran into during Quidditch classes that one time," I said with a half assed smile.

He chuckled at my attempt, but my words seemed to register on his stunning face as he pressed my petite body closer to his own, "Grier, I don't think your nightma-."

Before the rest of his words could tumble from his tongue I hissed, "The Forbidden Forest whispered something hauntingly similar."

At this he was rendered silent before nudging me the rest of the way to the Slytherin common room and into the dark abyss of his room, which had witnessed our intimate togetherness.

However, the large bed and green tone manifested something far worse than tender actions and whispered sweet nothings between the sheets.

I quietly sat on the edge of the bed, seemingly staring at the cold, stone floor, but I was attuned to every move he made, "I think I might lose you Draco."

A silent tear fell down my pale stricken cheek, "No you aren't." He seemed to be talking more to himself than me, "I just have to finish this hideous task."

A shudder ran through my spine, which was an often sensation these days, "I heard its voice this time, the invisible attacker's I mean."

The metallic tang of blood from biting my lip so hard jolted my taste buds, but I focused on his response, "Did you recognize the voice? What did it say?" Each word was laced with obvious paranoia.

"No... It was saying that Hermione's theory that the dream was a warning from Voldemort was wrong," I licked my lips in a distressed tick, "and it kept yelling for us to get out."