Davina | hp. ✓

38 | One Quaint Morning

IF ANYONE KNEW what it meant to be haunted, it was Davina Malfoy. As a young girl with an affinity to death, she had to become used to the ghosts of death haunting her mind, her surroundings, and sometimes even herself when a soul she knew passed through her. She had seen the ghosts of forgotten pasts, unsettling presents, and even the blurry future -- but this was different. 

For the past week, Davina's nightmares traded themselves in for bouts of insomnia. Usually, Theo joined in pulling in all-nighters with her, but even he couldn't keep up with her after the third night. She was glad for it because if what had been happening to her lately started up again tonight, she didn't want him looming over her shoulder as she tried to get to the bottom of it.

She was laying in bed, listening to the soft rise and fall of his chest and the slight snoring from his gaped lips, when she felt it. It wasn't a warm feeling like she got when she was with Theo, or a cold sensation like when she was about to deal with something regarding death. It was almost as if a soft, lukewarm breeze had kissed her back, urging her to get up. She obliged.

She slipped out of bed, shrugging on her zip-up sweater, and slipped out of the bedroom. The hallway was dark, just like the rest of the house, but Davina knew the house like the back of her hand. She knew exactly which steps squeaked, which floorboards shifted underfoot, and how to navigate the curving stairs in the pitch darkness. She walked halfway down the stairs when she noticed a faint, warm glow of light bouncing off of the walls from the next landing. She reached the bottom of the stairs and peered around the railing to see a spirit -- a young woman. At first, Davina dismissed her as a phantasm or a manifestation of her powers -- of a lost spirit looking to reach the other side of death through her. She realized only a few days ago that this spirit was none of those things, or anything else she knew of. She simply existed and did not at the same time, and Davina was intent on figuring out why she was appearing to her. 

She slowly walked down the stairs, inching closer to the spirit to get a closer look at her. The spirit woman didn't take notice of her; she simply sat near the bottom of the stairs and stared at the hallway leading towards the kitchen. 

As Davina drew nearer, she could make out more of her features than the simple glowing warmth of her essence. She appeared to her auburn red hair, alabaster skin, and piercing green eyes that didn't move away from the nothingness she was staring at. She was quite beautiful in a fierce sort of way. Davina reached out as if to comfort her, but she dissipated in light. The light traveled around the stairs and she followed it into the kitchen. As she stepped inside, she found herself standing in a room full of spirits -- only, many of them were of people she knew to be alive: Remus, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, McGonagall. Then others she knew to be dead, like Sirius and Mad-Eye, were there as well. They were the Order.

She turned as the ball of light that she followed materialized into the auburn-haired girl again. The hazy particles of light formed a shadow of the door which shut behind the girl as she leaned against the door and slid down to the floor, her once flawless alabaster skin slowing but surely speckling with bruises and cuts. Her lips quirked up with a sort of bitter amusement and she looked at her ghostly essence, saying something inaudible. Davina shook her head in confusion, circling in the spot as she tried to figure out what she was dealing with. How could she be seeing people she knew to be dead, and people she knew to be alive, in some kind of ghostly reenactment? What did it mean?

The spirits dissipated into thin air, and she was following the wisp of light again -- this time, through the narrow hallway and into the mostly untouched study. Davina had stored most of Sirius' and the Black family's heirlooms and important belongings in that room, feeling indecent to get rid of it. She hadn't stepped foot inside for months, so there was a fine layer of dust over everything. She walked into the room and found the auburn-haired spirit inspecting the intricate wallpaper that depicted the Black family tree. As she drew nearer to her, she watched her traced her fingers along the blackened spot where Sirius' name and caricature used to be before his mother burned it out.