☤ Pseudonym ☤

~Chapter Five~

I am sitting curled up on the sofa, in front of the roaring fire, writing my potions essay. An hour ago all my friends went to go and hang out at the goblet. Seeing who puts their name in. I am not in the mood and this essay was due last week.

'Did you see their eyebrows?' distant voices echo into the common room.

They get closer, 'Ha, yeah they were nearly as long as their beards!'

'Nearly!' Ron and Harry burst into the room in fits of laughter. Harry stops as soon as he spots me but Ron just keeps going.

'Hey Renn! Wassup?' Ron vaults over the back of sofa and lands ungracefully next to me.

I sigh, 'Not a lot, just trying to finish this essay.' I point to it in case he did not get the message. Ron winces at the mention of potions.

He quickly recovers, obviously full of energy. 'Did hear what Fred and George did?' I shake my head but Ron has already started to recount what I am assuming would have been an amusing story of their antics. If I was listening that is. My mind is elsewhere. My eyes keep flicking over to Harry who is quietly sitting on one of the armchairs. Our gazes connect for a second and we watch each other. I take in his long messy mop of hair, a few strands reaching down to brush his glasses. Peeking through the hairs is the faded red scar. The one on my face burns slightly, feeling a connection. I immediately break our staring contest and refocus on Ron. When I came to Hogwarts everyone thought I had been in a fight or something. I told them it was biking accident, which was grudgingly accepted.

A pair of fingers click in front of me. I flinch. 'Hellooo, Renn are you in there?'

'Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?' I blink away my thoughts.

He flops backwards, 'Doesn't matter. You obviously don't care about me enough to listen.' he sighs loudly and dramatically.

'Oh yeah. I just hate you so much. You are the worst person.' I say in a monotone voice.

Ron gasps and grabs his heart, 'You do not mean that!'

That night we laugh away the evening. At some point Harry even broke out in a smile.

But the laughter stopped once I got into bed.

'Florence!' my name is called once again throughout the entire house. I am curled into a ball in my closet. He will not find me this time. Not this time. I repeat in my head.

Suddenly the doors of the closet are thrown open violently. I keep my eyes pressed tightly against my knees, blocking out reality. 'Come on out, darlin.' his voice seeps into my ears like a disease. If only I had the cure.

'Stop with the childish games.' he grabs my upper arm and forcefully yanks me from my hiding spot. I whimper quietly. 'One would almost mistake you for a mudblood.' he puts his face right next to mine, 'Weak. That's what you are. The Dark Lord will be so disappointed.'

My eyes are squeezed shut still. He releases me and his footsteps retreat. I exhale and relax. I survived another encounter.

'Crucio!' my whole body seizes and I fall to floor. The agony is unrelenting. Every fibre of my being is on fire. I try to curl into a ball to relieve the pain but nothing helps. I give up and just lie there.

'That's it! Embrace the pain!' a resounding shout breaks through the torment, 'Do not let your fear of pain control you. Once you conquer fear you conquer the world.' Finally the torture abates. Tears roll continuously down my cheeks. A cool hand brushes my face and I flinch away. This was the worst pain I have ever felt.

I wake in a pool of sweat and tears. I silence my whimpering and grab my house jumper. Once again I follow my regular path to the common room. But this time something is different. I sense it outside the door and I pause. I hear nothing. I creep cautiously round the corner and see a mop of black hair. The boy is sitting on a chair, facing away from me. I hear the faint scratching of an ink pen on paper. I know I should turn back now. Avoid the questions about my dried tears and red eyes. But I know that I will never fall back asleep now.

'Who's there?' suddenly he jumps up and pulls out his wand. He must of heard me breathing. He turns and I come face to face with Harry. 'Florence?' he lowers his wand slightly, but only slightly. 'What the hell are you doing down here at this time of night?' I put my cross my arms angrily.

'I could ask you the exact same question, Potter.' we glare at each other for hours. Well probably only a few minutes but that is not what it feels like. Eventually I drop my arms, walk to the sofa and flop down onto it. I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling. 'Couldn't sleep.' I say, not looking at him. I hear an exasperated sigh and the squeaking of a chair.

'Yeah me neither.' silence stretches out between us. I do not think we have ever actually been alone together. Nor even had a conversation that lasted more than a minute. After a while the awkwardness descends. I feel like I cannot relax with him just a few metres away. I flip onto my side and prop myself up on my arm.

'What's got you in a tizzy?' he looks at me confused. He stares at me for a minute before taking a deep breath.

'Bad dream.' he breaks eye contact. Must have been pretty bad.

'Tell me about it.' I watch the flames whirl around in heath.

'There was this girl.' he pauses taking another breath, most likely trying to figure out how to describe it. 'It was weird. It was real. No. Not real, but it felt more like a memory or story than something my mind made up.' I shifted, I hope what I am thinking is not true. 'She was hiding in a cupboard. She was scared.' the orange hues flick to red, then yellow, then back to orange. 'It was like I could feel her fear. She was so scared.' a lone tear rolls down my cheek. 'Then this man came. He tortured her. He took everything from her. I could see the resistance drain from her body... he took everything.' I glanced over to see Harry wipe his eye hastily. He noticed me watching him and quickly stood up. Mumbling some excuse he darted up the stairs.

I turn back to the fire and wonder what secret Barty is keeping from me.