Magic of the Night (Harry Potter/Twilight Crossover)

Chapter Twenty-Two:

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:

I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, heart stopping with fear and tears on my face. Cackling, high-pitched laughter lingered in my ears, as did the screaming and the thump of dead bodies. Ghost faces flashed before my eyes and whispers of unquiet spirits egged me forwards while pulling me back.

I hadn't been dreaming of a specific event; it had been a combination of all the horrific things that had happened to or before me, but it had ended with two words. Avada Kedavra.

My stomach twisted violently and I barely noticed Edward supporting me as I lunged for the bathroom and emptied it. I was shaking and shivering, and he was trying to soothe me but all I could see was Sue's lifeless face in that coffin, all I could smell was smoke and blood.

Some part of me noted that I was having a panic attack, even as my legs stopped supporting me. I couldn't stand, couldn't speak, couldn't breathe.

My face is practically numb, but I can still feel the icy cold of lips on my forehead.

It takes nearly ten minutes for my panic to recede and I'm exhausted and shivering, but my heart rate has slowed and I can breathe properly again. Edward, who's holding me cradled to his chest, looks relieved beyond words.

"Can you speak now?" he asks gently and I nod, tiredly, resting heavily on him. He kisses my forehead and stands up, easily lifting me and carrying me back to my bedroom where he lays me gently on the bed, tucking me under the covers before laying down next to me, on top of the thick blankets.

"I suppose we should have expected the nightmares," he says, quietly.

"Yeah." I agree, my voice just as quiet. He strokes my sweaty forehead with his icy hands and I lean into the touch. "Thank you. For being here." I tell him, and he looks at me, golden eyes burning with sincerity.

"Forever."

-

I groaned as I was dragged kicking and screaming from Morpheus' sweet grasp, opening my eyes to a plate of pancakes covered with strawberries and whipped cream. I blink, staring at the tower of sweet soft red fruits blearily, my mind still half-asleep. Edward lets go of the shoulder he was lightly shaking to wake me up, and smiles. "Good morning, love."

"Wazime?" I yawn.

"Pardon?" He asks, amused.

"What's the time?" I repeat, this time more legibly.

"It's seven thirty." He says and my eyes widen with horror.

"Why am I awake this early?" I demand and he has the nerve to laugh, eyes alight with mischief.

"Finals start today," he says, and I groan- loudly.

"Great. Just great." I say, sourly.

After I've eaten the pancakes Edward kisses me then leaves for his house. His whole giving me privacy while I get dressed is something I don't exactly understand seeing as he's seen me naked—and on more then one occasion—but I just accept it as part of how he was raised.

I'm tired and my body feels heavy as I pull on a pair of jeans and a white button up shirt. I pause mid-buttoning and frown. Against the stark white material of my shirt, I can't help but notice how my nails look sort of yellow-ish. Jaundice, my brain supplied me with, and my frown deepens as I pull on a red cardigan over the white shirt, the red material not contrasting the way the white did.