Year 1: Chapter 17

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Willow lost track of time in that dark room. She had her watch, but it didn't glow in the dark. She was blind to anything and everything. The occasional conversation between two students would reach her ears, but she didn't even try to call for help. No one could break her chains. And those weren't the physical chains.

She had given up one of her most precious memories, let someone else see it. It wasn't precious, really, just top secret. There were only a handful of people who knew about it, and it was all her family. Now Quirrel and Voldemort knew. She wanted to throw up.

Actually, Willow did throw up a few times, the side effects of the torture charm. She was left trembling from it, very shaken both physically and mentally. Her state of mind couldn't revive itself like usual. She was cut off from all of society. Maybe Quirrel was right; maybe she did deserve to die alone in the dark.

No, don't think that way, Willow scolded herself. Self-pity won't get you anywhere. I can't think like that now. Only positive thoughts are allowed, or maybe productive thinking.

Since positivty seemed far from possible, Willow went with the latter, combing through everything Quirrel had said that sparked her mind. There was something about her that was baffling them, and it apparently was linked to her shape-shifting and the memory of her mother's incident. What was the connection? No matter how hard she tried, nothing came to mind. It was two things so distantly related that Willow thought being in her head was the only thing that connected them. Why did Quirrel need them? What was so special about them?

They had said something about the One. Willow knew that everyone called Harry the One, the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived. But this was completely different. Willow didn't even know who Harry was at that time, so Quirrel couldn't be talking about him. Why would they think she was called the One? She wasn't special, except for her powers, and those didn't make her any more special than Ron or Hermione in her mind. They were just something she was born with. But they were very important, according to the voice lady, since the fate of the world apparently rested on keeping the knowledge of her powers from Voldemort and Quirrel. Could they be talking about someone else? Was the One...him? The other person in the memory? The only other male besides her father?

Willow's mind shut down when she tried to think of him. No, it was still too painful. Her mother's incident seemed to have taken place years and years ago, but his death was still as fresh as the scab trying to develop on her re-opened wound. It was a knife to the heart each time her mind wandered to him. He was her best-kept secret of all time, the best memory of her childhood. But he had been taken away from her, and along with him, Willow's happiness. She had worked for a long time to pick herself back up again. If she told anyone else about him, she was afraid she would break down again and not be able to rescue herself from that dark pit she had found herself in two years before. His memory was the reason she had taught herself to not show emotions. His memory is what drove her to insanity. His memory is what drove her to improve her life and the lives of others around her.

He was everything to her.

But no one was allowed to know about him.

Willow wiped the tears off her face, despite the smile that had formed. He brought so much good to the surface, so much pain, so much...everything. Thinking about him taught Willow how to feel again. She missed being able to have some alone time to express her emotions freely. Being on the brink of death gave her one last chance. She couldn't think of anyone better to remember while she died.

Willow wasn't afraid of death. She had never been one to fear that cloaked figure reaching out a hand to her and taking her to the afterlife. To her, it was another adventure reserved for the elite, and she hoped to one day be one of those elite. The thing that scared her about death was if it took her friends before their time had come. They were all very young, and she cared about them as if they were her siblings. She would do anything for them, seeing as she was going to die trying to prevent them from having to face Quirrel and Voldemort. If they died young, before they even had a chance to live a semi-full life, Willow would be swallowed up with grief the same way she was after her mum's incident. She could take pain, as she had seen with her torture session (although the aftermath hadn't gone too well). But the pain of her friends' loss would be too much. She would probably die of grief shortly after and unintentionally join them, causing others even more pangs of loss. She didn't want that to bring that on anyone.

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