The Wizarding World was changing drastically, all to do with the rumoured and pending war. While every adult seemed to be gloomy, Dumbledore was the opposite. Still full of hope and confidence.
All thanks to his secret weapon. Harlow Loughty.
His p...
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The searing pounding pain in Harlow head was nothing compared to the soreness of her throat. Unable to swallow without pain, the teenage girl let out small and little whimpers. Her finger tips slowly grazed, dancing up her neck before quickly moving up and onto to her forehead. She let her fingers remain there, simply resting on her skin, as she tried to dull the ache.
It took her a second to realise that she was lying down. Her whole body was lying against a hard but rugged surface. The last thing she could remember was... was... she wasn't too sure. Her head was all kinds of blurry and foggy. Harlow was positive that she could hear a whirl in her head as it tried to work. She could hear the gears turning, yet her mind failed to work properly.
A small groan left her lips, a noise that was unintentional. It sent a small shoot of pain into her head which caused yet another quiet whimper. While attempting to open her eyes, a blinding white light quickly scarred her corneas causing them to sting.
Due to all of the pain Harlow was feeling around various points of her body, she decided to just be. To just lay there, as still as she could. The teenage girl figured that sooner rather than later her memories would come back to her and she could figure out the situation - without causing herself any more unnecessary pain.
The choice was completely unlike Harlow. The girl who feared no pain and always fought to her fullest ability. But she gave up before and she was unknowingly choosing the same thing. It was almost as if her body knew that there was no escaping what was going to happen to her. Deep down in her head, she feared what would happen if she managed to open her eyes and sit up.
"Sir, he's...he's unstable. Erratic." A man spoke, his voice holding a hint of panic and urgency. He was scared, that much was obvious. Even Harlow, who was trying to convince her mind to shut off, could determine what the man was feeling. It piqued her interest, there was no denying it, but not quite enough to force her to move.
There was a low rumble followed by a high pitched click, marking the girls ears twitch similarly to a cat. Heavy footprints followed, getting louder as they marched past her body and continued on. A small shiver of uncertainty prickled her body and finally she was more than convinced to try opening her eyes again.
"Mission report." A gruff voice spoke snappily, letting out a quiet and agitated huff when he didn't receive an answer. Harlow's brows naturally furrowed as she tried opening her eye again. This time because of the light, her eyes squinted harshly, and she let them flutter close.
"Mission report, now." The same voice barked, then a loud slapping sound followed.
"The man on the bridge... Who was he?" Another voice muttered weakly, a sense of desperation in his tone. The voice was one Harlow recognised all too well and it was that very voice that finally gave her the strength to open her eyes.
