Tranquility

Six

Author's Note: This chapter deals with PTSD and a depressive episode. 

"Don't get lost in your pain, 

know that one day,

your pain will become your cure."

- Rumi

"Hold still, dear." Molly Weasley raised an enchanted cloth to Athene's back. The skin there was red and angry, pulling in different directions as though it had tried to run from the enchanted fire the week before. The two women sat in line with each other in Charlie's bedroom in the Burrow. 

Athene cringed as the moist cloth brushed against her enflamed skin and Mrs. Weasley apologized. "It's not your fault," Athene said. She attempted a smile, but it couldn't reach her eyes. The two sat in silence while the older woman finished.

It was unnerving, the silence and the unfamiliarity. She had been there for a week, cycling through different emotions and visitors. Several people had filed in and out of my room over the days. First it was Charlie. He had brought her to his home and deposited her in his room. For the first three days of her stay, he had guarded her from any unwanted visitors; which was everyone.

But like all good things, he had to leave. Romania needed him, and Athene didn't have the heart to keep him from his dragons. 

Mrs. Weasley had come in next with words of kindness and love. She had promised her a room at the Burrow for as long as Athene needed it. 

Fred and George Weasley had weaseled their way into the room with a box full of trick candies. But even they were not enough to bring a smile to the girl's face. They had left their peace offering on Charlie's dresser, hopeful that she'd be in higher spirits and use them. 

Nymphadora had also come, but she only stayed long enough to give her condolences. Other members of the Order had come, too, but Athene could not remember the faces.

She had hardly spoken a word to any of her visitors. The young girl lay immobilized on the four-poster bed, only moving to reveal her back to Mrs. Weasley when she came to tend to her wounds. It was a pitiful site to anyone who walked through the threshold, and it wasn't a fleeting phase.

The days began to merge together. Athene marked them only by the return of Charlie, but even that had become relatively unimportant.

Food was no longer appetizing and the thought of eating made her nauseous. No matter how hard Charlie or Mrs. Weasley begged, she couldn't bring herself to eat. 

Sleep, too, was hard to find. Every time she closed her eyes, the figments of red and orange returned to Athene's mind. It was a haunting memory that chased her through life. She would wake in the middle of the night drenched in sweat and a scream on the tip of her tongue.

Sometimes, in her dreams, she saw Enya outside of Epeolatry with her wand in her hand as she watched the building burn. Others, it was just a faceless person standing over Athene's form in her old bedroom. They cackled as the fire started in the basement and encouraged the flames to take hold of the life that was hiding away behind Epeolatry's walls.