Scopophobia | H. POTTER [4]

13 | dream talk

tw: brief talk of suicide (just mentions what was learned last chapter)

"Harry?" Abigail asked in confusion. She looked around to see that they were in the Room of Requirement.

He turned around to look at her, confusion clear on his face, "Abigail? What are you doing here?"

"Uh," she began, "I have no idea." She sat down next to him on the bed, "I think it's a dream."

"It doesn't feel like a dream," he pointed out to which she pinched his arm. He rubbed the spot, "What was that for?"

"Maybe it isn't a dream then." They were both silent before Abigail spoke up. "Harry, I'm so sorry," she apologized. "Everything has just been so...No. No excuse will make up for the way I treated you."

"I know you're going through quite the ordeal even if you won't talk to me about it," he explained, taking her hand in his own. He turned it over in his own and he ran his thumb over the faint scar on her hand. "You don't need an excuse and I forgive you."

"You shouldn't forgive me," she countered, "I don't deserve it."

He squeezed her hand gently, "I'm afraid that this is the first time that you're wrong about something."

She laughed slightly before resting her head on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around her and held her close to him, "How do you think this is possible?"

"I'm not the one with special powers."

"I didn't even know I could do this," she pointed out.

"You've been exploring your abilities," he reminded her, "Maybe this is just another one unlocked."

She nodded slowly before she remembered something. She slipped her hand into her hoodie pocket and pulled it out.

"What is that?" Harry asked as he eyed the letter in confusion.

"It's from my mom," she explained simply, turning it over in her hand, "She wrote it before she died. It's about me." She looked up at him after a moment, "Apparently she is where I get my 'gift' from. Although from my understanding, she didn't view it as a gift either. In fact, it pretty much drove her mad."

"What happened?"

"During a full moon while my father was away, your father and Sirius were watching over me and her, she snuck into my nursery," she answered, recalling the story she had been going over and over in her head. After she had gone to her room, she managed to retrieve the memory from Sirius despite his adamant fight against it. "She tried to kill the both of us."

"But she didn't?"

"Not me anyway," she replied, "Your father stopped her before she could drop me from the window with her but he wasn't fast enough to get to her. It was too late for her anyway." She shook her head after a moment, "Anyway, I guess she wrote this letter to my dad to explain why she did what she did but I haven't gotten to reading it."

Dear Remus,

I take it that you probably know what I've done by the time you're reading this. That or I failed and now you are privy to my plans but in either situation, there will always be one thing we have in common. Abigail.

She will be far more dangerous than any witch known to our kind because she has abilities that are beyond our understanding. When I gave birth to her, the majority of my powers became hers alongside all of her own power.

I can see it in her just as I'm sure everyone else can although they may not be aware of it. In the way that she can get everyone to give her what she wants or how she can make everyone laugh while barely lifting a finger.

Abigail is far too dangerous to be in this world and because I brought her into it, I will be taking her out. Her powers are beyond anything I could have possibly imagined.

In the off chance that I have failed in my mission, I need you to finish it for me. Abigail cannot be allowed to grow up and she can not be allowed to become as powerful as I fear she is more than capable of.

I am more than aware of the fact that you have all decided that I was crazy and to a certain extent, I am. The memories of everyone around me and the possible memories of the future clog my mind making it impossible for me to process anything but I was able to think this through.

One day, I hope you'll understand why I did what I did, but I suppose until then, try not to be such a downer all the time.

Sincerely,

Helena

Abigail looked back down into the envelope and saw a slip of paper inside. She pulled it out and wrote on it in scratchy handwriting, read: The one who will aid in the battle is powerful for whichever side holds her, shall win against all. For she can change the future and confirm the past and with that, she has the power to end it all.

"Abigail?" Harry spoke up after some time, "What is it?"

She handed him the small piece of paper and he read over it. "The prophecy," he concluded, "Do you think your mom was the seer who foresaw it?"

"I suppose it's possible," she replied, "It would certainly add to her reasoning as to why I'm better off dead."

"Which is what?"

"That I was to become far too powerful and too dangerous to exist in this world," she explained, "That I was already showing signs as an infant of being manipulative and controlling."

"You're only dangerous if you have ill-intent," he replied, "Which, hopefully, you don't."

"Look at how my mom ended up," she countered with a frown, "She had so many people who cared about her and she still killed herself and tried to take me with her."

"From my understanding, your mother was in a lot worse shape than you are," he reminded her, "You have people who are actively helping you and you are working at using your powers instead of pushing them away and pretending they don't exist. You just can't bottle things up like she did."

"So I've been told."

He paused for a moment, thinking things over in his head, "Keep a journal."

"What?"

"A journal," he repeated, "Write down everything. Every emotion, good or bad. Every flicker of power. Everything. Don't try and keep it in anymore."

"Like a diary?" she question with a raised eyebrow.

"If that's what you want to call it."

"I already have a dream diary," she reminded him.

"This would be different," he replied, "This way, even when you don't want to talk to anyone about what's going on, it's not all pent up in your head."

"I'll keep that in mind," she agreed as she placed the letter back into her hoodie pocket.

There was an echo of Harry's name throughout the room. "I guess that means it's time for me to wake up," Harry concluded, "Will I see you tomorrow?"

"If I can figure out how to do this again, yes," she agreed before she pulled him into a hug, "Tomorrow it is."

"Tomorrow," he agreed and then he disappeared.