Chapter 92 - Mending

1.8K 68 5
                                    


Voldemort hated the fact he could never seem keep his hold on his weapon. She always weaseled her way out, found a way to break through. He hated that.

But now, the tide had turned.

Voldemort knew full well that the girl was more powerful than any witch or wizard in existence – that was for sure. That's why he could never try to take her by force directly – she had sworn him as her enemy. So, he worked through trickery, through betrayal of trust. That's why the Malfoy boy was finally coming in handy.

When Voldemort had first called on the boy, he had seen the way his eyes burned with rage when Voldemort spoke about the girl. Malfoy cared about her, that was obvious. Which was why Voldemort forced him to break her trust, to work his way into her inner layers then strike her where it hurt the most. Voldemort just didn't think that the girl would be able to pull herself together again. But she had.

That was why he was now watching her through her dreams. Voldemort was powerful, obviously. He had found a way to search through the dreamscape for a certain someone. Luckily, with the girl's radiant powers, her aura was strong and easy to target. Especially when she was drained and her powers were trying to frantically replenish themselves. That was how Voldemort had found her.

Malfoy wanted to win her trust back – Voldemort knew that. He knew how much Malfoy hated himself for what he did to the girl, and Voldemort found amusement in his despair. So, he used the boy as his camera, but he didn't control him. The girl needed to think Malfoy was just a figment of her imagination, a recreation of the boy she had cared for before Voldemort turned him sour. So, he let the boy plead with her, try to beg for forgiveness. Voldemort was waiting for her to grant it back to him. Then he would make his move.

____________________________________________________________________________________

"Saige, wake up," Someone said by my ear. I jumped up, blinking against the bright light. Ron was sitting beside me, a damp rag in his hand. He grinned when I looked over.

"Finally, was starting to wonder if you were gonna go coma-girl again," He teased. I smiled faintly, fighting off the headache that was approaching. Flashes of my dream – nightmare – flickered behind my eyes, but I shut them out.

"What happened?" I asked groggily as I sat up. I was laying outside on a lawnchair. The sun was too bright. The others seemed to be repairing the house. I racked my mind for why the Burrow was charred and burned.

"You passed out, after whatever the white smoke was that you used," Ron explained. I eyed the smudge of soot on his forehead. I was about to ask for clarification when everything came rushing back. The fire, Bellatrix, the smoke – then passing out. No wonder my dreams had been erratic and filled with ever changing smoke.

"Ohh right," I muttered, rubbing my face with a hand. I went to stand, but stumbled. Ron immediately helped me up, his strong arm weaving under my shoulders.

"You should take it easy – the others fixed the house all up, we can go inside," He explained. I nodded, walking slowly into the house. Mrs. Weasley was in there with everyone, and they all came over and hugged Ron and I again when we came inside. I smiled weakly, glad that no one else had gotten hurt. Fred and George seemed shaken up, but all of them were unharmed. Ginny was sipping hot chocolate in the window seat in the corner, so after I told Ron I was fine I walked over to her.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked as I sat. Ginny's bright blue eyes were gleaming. I couldn't tell if it was because of tears or happiness.

"Yeah, just – after everything that happened with last year and now this, its just crazy to think that we are at war," she said, turning to look at me. I was struck with the tiredness of her voice. The poor girl was only 15, she shouldn't be forced into a war. I smiled sadly.

Break Me || Harry PotterWhere stories live. Discover now