ON GOING - RE-WRITING 2024
What was it that made the girl so extraordinary? Was it because she was a Harry Potter's best friend, or maybe it was because she was the most beautiful girl, blessed with the Diggory genes. Perhaps it was because she was...
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"Camille."
She was falling. Further and further amidst the void--amidst the realm of death. The demons were waiting below, pale skinned with the mark of a serpent on their arms.
"Camille." The voice said again. It was a strange voice, a young voice. She'd heard it before.
She held her hands out as the clawing hands of cloaked men tried to grab her, wearing silver masks of beastly creatures. The green serpent flew across the sky, the world darkened by night...no, by death.
"You belong to me," The voice said again, wicked in its undertone.
She was screaming...no she was laughing. Laughing upon her descent into the darkness. Like Alice, in the rabbit-hole, Camille let herself fall until she landed in place of all things forgotten, all things lost. She was in a cave. A dark cave where the sound of crashing waves threatened to come for her.
There was a green light. A mere dot, like a lone firefly.
It flew toward her and fell into her palm. She closed her fist, the light going out completely, and when she reopened her hand all that remained was a ring. It was a dark ring, the band held a black diamond.
A figure stood before her, dressed in black robe.
Tom Riddle, as she had known him in the chamber, youthful.
He stared at her palm where the ring lay before his eyes flicked to hers. A flash of green glowed within the depths of his soul. "The Darkness is coming, Camille. The world will fear it...but you...you will welcome it."
Camille awoke, gasping as she did many nightmare's before. Always the same dream. Always the same saying. But this time...this time something was in her palm.
The ring was in her palm. His ring.
Camille got up, finding her father in the kitchen. It had been months. Months since Cedric had died. Months since Amos and his daughter spoke civilly. When he looked at her, he saw disappointment. He saw emptiness. She was nothing like her mother. Nothing like her brother. He saw it, in her eyes, and she knew...She knew he wished she had taken Cedric's place.
"My son's locket is missing." Amos spoke flatly, taking out the milk from the refrigerator. He spoke as if she were a stranger. Their house elf stood aside, watching between both father and daughter, estranged from one another. "Have you seen it?"
Camille leaned against the bench. She knew where this was going. Her father often misplaced things, he'd done so with her mother's belongings when he was packing them, hiding away memories, hiding away their memory...their existence. He liked to do this, sweep the pain under the rug, move forward as if someone had ripped their lives from his memory, as if nothing had happened. Camille could not. She welcomed the pain if it meant they were still alive in her mind. "No."
