When You're Strange: Never Forget {Harry Potter}

Chapter Seven: Larger than life.

                                                        Alice's POV

I tuck my knees under me as I rest my head against the iron bars, closing me in. I stare up at the sky, trying to remember the last time I've actually seen sunlight. It's as if they've hexed the sky to permanently stay in this gloomy state.

Julia sits a few feet away from me, carelessly scraping a rock against the hard, stone ground. The constant grinding noise starts to get on my nerves, but I don't say anything.

Although my body is nearly covered in sweat, due to the summer's humidity, I can't help but to shiver. I clamp my mouth shut, to refrain from letting my teeth chatter against each other. My breathing has been staggered ever since I woke up from that awful dream a few days ago. My chest feels as if something heavy has settled itself upon it.

"You really should get some sleep, you know," Julia speaks up, after throwing her rock across the room, letting it crumble as it make contact with the cave wall.

It's been over two days since I've actually slept. The irritating tiredness has faded and now I just feel physically and emotionally drained, like some brain-dead person that can't fully function.

"It's not that easy," I grumble, gazing back at my left arm, where I nearly scratched my arm off while I was dreaming. If I did that before, who knows what else I could do to myself?

If Voldemort can get to me while I'm sleeping, then the only solution is to not sleep anymore. There's nothing else I can do while I'm in this damned cell.

"You're going to die of sleep deprivation," She scolds me, not even trying to sugar-coat it, which I respect her for it. "Avoiding the problem isn't solving it,"

"And how exactly am I supposed to solve this? It's not like I can just defeat him in my sleep, then all will be well," I snap at her, my short temper making an appearance.

I feel guilty instantly. I know she's only trying to help me, yet I can't help but to take it out on her. I should try and make the best of our situation.

"You look like hell. Who knows if he'll even show up again tonight." She tells me, harshly. Again, I can't help but to appreciate her honesty.

If I look even half as bad as I feel, I'm surprised I haven't been pronounced dead yet. My brown hair, which I used to brush every night and morning, is now a tangled mess that touches my lower back. I used to pride myself on my flawless skin, and full figure, but now it's the last thing on my mind. Nothing physical matters anymore. All that worries me is going insane and that I'll end up killing myself.

I pat myself on the hip, where Snape's letter gives me a reassuring crinkle sound.

Never Forget.

"Why do you do that?" Julia asks, giving up on trying to get me to go to sleep for the time being. "Why do you pat your hip like that all the time?"

Defensively, I look out the iron bars, to be sure someone wasn't watching, even though no one has ever been up here. I just don't want to take chances when it comes to my only possession.

I pull the folded and worn-down letter from underneath my uniform. I unfold it and look at the perfect cursive that was written by Snape, my cousin. It still felt weird to associate Snape with the word 'family'.

"The only thing keeping me sane," I explain, getting lost in his encouraging words. "My reminder that I won't be stuck in here for forever," I say, much more quietly.

 "Is it from Ron?" She asks, straining her neck to be able to see the letter.

"No, Ron gave me his word," I explain, recalling Ron's promise to me, and the last conversation that I had with him.