Life of a Black (Sequel to Life of a Malfoy)

Nightmares and Daydreams

I woke up to find myself lying in fetal position on the ground. The sky was gray and hazy, and my body ached. I blinked out blood falling into my eyes and rubbed them with my left arm. I tried to push myself up from the ground, but let out a cry of pain as a sharp stab shot up my right arm. I took a breath and looked at my arm to find it now oozing blood. I winced and sat up with my good arm. I ripped the bottom of my shirt off and slowly wrapped the torn piece of cloth around my arm, tight. I had my teeth clenched together to keep from screaming or crying.

Looking around, I saw the Hogwarts castle behind me, and the Forbidden Forest only footsteps away. Hagrid's hut was smoking and black, and it was dead silent. The sun was starting to rise, and I held my breath. Dumbledore was dead, and my brother had attempted to murder me. But I was alive.

I pushed myself to stand up, and I started walking in the castle. This was my only chance. I broke into a run, and tears were pouring down my eyes as the blood from my arm soaked through the cloth.

I ran through the corridors and looked up from the ground to see Professor Flitwick abruptly stop. He looked at me, right as I was dragged around the corner. I started screaming into he hand covering my mouth, and tried to pull myself out of the person's grasp.

I was thrown across the ground and slid into a wall as a cackling erupted in my ear. Bellatrix Lestrange towered over me and I started screaming for help. When I continued to scream, Bellatrix kicked me in the stomach to shut me up. I did, and bit my lip as tears poured down my face.

She picked me up from the ground, and I started screaming again as we disapparated with a crack.

I was screaming as I shot up. I felt my arm for blood, but found a soft sweatshirt without a speck of blood leaking through.

"Oh my god," Harry Potter said as he walked towards me. I took a shaky breath and checked my arm once more. There still wasn't anything on my arm. I blinked the fuzzy spots out of my vision and looked up at him. "Were you, were you dreaming?" I nodded my head and ran my hand through my hair.

Hermione came rushing down the steps with her hair falling in her face, seriously disturbed.

"Did you just scream?" she asked. I nodded again. "Do you always get nightmares?" I clenched my teeth together. It was embarrassing that I couldn't even sleep without scaring myself shitless. She took little steps toward me, like I was a rabid dog. She reached the couch and flew her arms around me, and I took a sharp breath in. Harry was still standing there, completely speechless.

"Do you get them every night?" Hermione asked.

"Almost," I whispered in a hollow voice. "It's-it's not a big deal, really."

"Lexa!" she exclaimed. "Of course it is! That's not normal to get so many nightmares." I wanted to laugh at her. It was normal for me.

"Hermione, I'm not normal," I said, and slowly rose from my spot on the couch. "I'm getting some air." I stepped outside and sat on the ground, watching the sun rise. The sky was filled with blotches of pink, yellow, and red as the sun rose into the sky. I stared at the red pieces and was completely mesmerized by the terrible beauty of the color. My mind drifted into thought, that color ever so present.

"No, please," I whispered as my words trembled. I tried to crawl away, but the whip snapped against my back once more, and I screamed into the darkness. Bellatrix cackled and threw the whip at me once more against my back. Tears glistened in my eyes and my body was shaking. I was losing far too much blood, and the deep red was shining on the floor. My fingers were tracing the puddles of my blood, and my eyes leaked out tears after the sixteen whips. Sixteen times for the years I've been alive, she said. Gashes from whips lined with spikes didn't heal very easy. Especially not gashes almost all a centimeter deep.

My body was numb, and I did not dare get up from the ground. I was silent as salty tears streaked my face. I heard footsteps walking towards me, and I screamed out of pain as Bellatrix rolled me onto my back. My immense pain was almost making me lose conscious. She pressed her arms into my body, pinning me down. She let out a bark of laughter into my face, and brought her silver knife down my left temple, past my ear, and stopped at my chin. More tears blinked out of the corners of my eyes and stung the open gash.

Bellatrix took her knife away from my face, and held my left arm down with her foot. She traced the knife on my forearm, outlining the dark mark. I was screaming my head off as she pressed the knife into my skin. Anything but that, I thought. Anything but that. I fell out of consciousness by the sight of my own blood.

I gasped as I opened my eyes. I was slumped against the outside of the burrow with my hands clawing at he ground. I pulled up my left sleeve slowly, and made out the faint scar of the dark mark. It wasn't the actual thing, but it looked too real.

"What's that?" Harry asked as he walked around the corner of the house.

"Nothing," I whispered, and pulled my sleeve down. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I froze as he sat next to me, and he lifted my sleeve up. Letting out a gasp, he looked up at me.

"It's a scar?"

"It's not the only one I have," I said, brushing my hair away, revealing the slice down my face. His mouth gaped open, and I almost let out a laugh. I turned so I wasn't facing him, and lifted up the back side of my shirt. He was silent as he looked at the scars covering my back, and I pulled my shirt back down.

"Are those all from, from Bellatrix?" I nodded. "Next time I see her, she's dead." I let out a laugh.

"Thanks." And with that, he got up and left to return inside the house.

I felt the connection still between us, holding on to the thin wire that was still there. It would never work between us, we would never end up the same. 

I missed the conversations we used to have together. I missed the boy who loved me. But alas, it was no use. He didn't love me, I didn't love him. Everything had changed, but he was still looking out for me.