The Dream Trilogy Book Two: Tread On My Dreams (A Harry Potter FanFiction)

Chapter Thity Six

Chapter Thirty Six

Sarah hugged her knees and rocked back and forth on the polished mahogany table. She wasn't sure how long she'd been locked in the office with all the portraits, but it was long enough for all the fight to blow out of her and the fear to really take hold. 

Why did Voldemort want her? He'd wanted Harry only an hour or so ago, what had changed? There wasn't anything special about her, she didn't even belong in this universe, how could he even know she existed? The thoughts sent an icy coldness racing through her and she shivered.  

"Why don't you put some logs on the fire?" suggested a witch kindly. The plaque under her portrait read 'Roberta Charlton, Head of The British Quidditch Association, 1958-66.' She had a mud-splattered set of robes on and a battered whistle around her neck, whilst her make-up was pristine and her beehive hair-do immaculate. Half the subjects of the paintings had swapped about in the excitement however, so Sarah couldn't be sure that this portrait really was Roberta.  

"I haven't got a wand," she said, head heavy on her knees. "I can't light it." 

"Oh," said the portrait who might have been Roberta. 

"It's okay," sighed Sarah. "Thanks for the suggestion anyway." 

The paintings had been doing their best to keep Sarah's spirits up since Voldemort and Bellatrix had locked her in the office, but they were more anxious and jumpy than she was, if that was possible. They'd witnessed all the Ministry employees being frozen by the giant wasps Hermione had called Wranglers, then watched helplessly as the Death Eaters had taken over the building. Once Sarah had been abandoned with them, a man call Archibald had announced he was going on an recognisance mission to see what was happening in the rest of the Ministry. He had returned soaking wet and even more confused than before, talking about some sort of flood in the upper levels. 

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut and prayed the others were okay. She hoped Draco had managed to stay with Hermione and Ron at least; Sirius might still be all alone, getting his head smashed in by Bellatrix, and she had no idea what had become of Remus and the young woman Tonks. 

She had never felt so helpless, not even in Germany. At least then she thought it was just her that was in danger, now she knew people she cared about were in trouble and she couldn't even get herself free let alone help them. She was useless, nothing but a scared child, she should have done what Harry said and stayed hidden, that way they wouldn't have to worry themselves about saving her. 

She balled her fists and fought against the bitter tears teetering on her eyelids. It wasn't her fault they had taken her wand, or that she was too small to fight them. She just needed to do the best she could. She couldn't just lie down and take it, she was a white wolf with fierce red eyes, she wouldn't let them break her. 

She unfurled her legs to get down and began walking around the long oval table, feeling the blood pump back into her limbs. Once she felt steady enough she began to jog, trailing her hand on the smooth surface of the table, then switched directions before she became dizzy going round and round the same way too many times. 

"That's it lass!" cried Archibald, crammed into a single frame with another disgruntled looking man. "Keep your spirits up, the game's not over yet." 

"Don't you let them bully you," called out Roberta shaking her fist encouragingly. "They're nothing but a bunch of cheats!" 

She stopped running at the end of the table and yanked at the door handles. Unsurprisingly they were still locked, but she felt better for giving them a good tug. "Why are they doing this?" she asked the paintings. She was done moping, she might as well find out as much information as she could before Bellatrix came back.