𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 || James Potter

022

Chapter 22: Christmas

{L.A.M}

It is no suprise to be that I woke up here, just as the last time. I am getting tired of being taken care of, and I am tired of feeling weak while I should feel strong. I just fought off Deatheathers baraly four hours ago, and now I'm in the hospital wing feeling numb. And I can't help but feel exhausted and defeated.

I can speak, but there is no one to talk to. The door to the hallways is opened, but it's quiet. Too quiet. I step out of bed, and take a look at what im wearing. I am still in the same red dress, but I don't bother changing into those ridiculous hospital robes.

As I walk the corridors on my bare feet there is no one to be seen. The Great Hall door is closed, I try to open it, but it won't and I have no wand to perform magic with. I walk the other way, towards the kitchens and the Hufflepuff common room, hoping to find someone there, anyone. Still no one, only the sound of wind flows through the corridors.

I punch myself, but I am not dreaming. So I keep walking until I get to one of the courtyards. There is no ground to be seen, it's covered with people who softly exchange words now and then. I look around the crowd and find Davina, she's crying. I walk closer to them but so far no one seems to notice me.

Everyone is still staring at the ground. But then Dumbledore speaks. "We are gathered her today, to mourn the loss of  two or our students. Both of these girls, Cecelia and Claire were willing to fight for our school, and for justice. May they rest in peace." Dumbledore finishes. I tear up, unable to speak. I see two adults shaking hands with Dumbledore, eyes red from crying. I assume they are their parents.

It feels wrong to stay quiet, but there is nothing left to say. Wands are being raised, and I may not have my wand with me, but my hand rises and more tears run over my cheeks.

I can't keep in the sound now, and James turns around. His eyes seem to have watered up too, and he runs in my direction. He pulls me in a hug and I don't want to let go. So I don't.

"They went to find you, after they heard Dumbledore speak to Mcgonagall about where we were." This hurts even more, and a feeling of guilt forms in my stomach. "James. . ."

"Shhh, it's okay. We're okay." He pulls me in tighter and it kind of hurts, but in the moment, I don't care. I suddenly realise something, and I pull back. "James? Did you just say that. . . Dumbledore knew where we were!?"

He seems confused and nods. "That. . . That. . . He knew where we were but did not come to find us? He made us fight this battle for him?! The man could have easily fought them off! But in stead he risked the lives of fifteen year olds! And two girls that were baraly fourteen died!"

"Lex, calm down. Don't do anything you will regret."

"Don't you get it? I blame him, James. I blame him for what happend to Cecelia and Claire. They were fourteen!"

-

It's finally Christmas and so far, my friends have been able to keep me from going to Dumbledore to speak my mind.  My grandfather is upstairs painting the wall in the guest room while I help my grandmother bake cookies.

I get lost my mind and almost burn myself on the oven when I take the cookies out. I curse and go to cool my hands with cold water. My grandfather comes downstairs. "Were you daydreaming again?" He asks. My grandmother nods before I can say anything and she takes my hand to look at it. "You have to be more carefull Lex, this isn't the first time something like this has happened. What is on your mind?"

"I was just thinking about the fact that Cecelia and Claire might still be alive if I wasn't so stubborn."

"Oh dear, what do you mean?"