Betrayal of the Black

seventeen

Even once her entire breakfast had vacated her stomach, she stood their dry-heaving as tears welled up in her eyes; both from gagging, and from an incoming panic attack.

Blood was pounding in her ears, her heart ramming against her rib cage. Hands shaking, she lowered herself to the ground, ignoring the fact that she was sitting beside her own vomit. She had to calm down, she had to stop before she could not breathe.

More bile rose in her throat, even though she had nothing left to retch. Her chest was screaming in pain, it felt as if her heart was being ripped to shreds inside of her. She left like she was having a heart attack. At any moment, she feared it would burst.

There was a voice in her head, reminding her that she had been through this before, that she had survived before. All she needed to do was breathe.

She was trying to draw in breath, but she couldn't. Someone was clutching her throat, squeezing it tightly, refraining her from being able to breath. Her head was spinning as she gasped for breaths out of reach. Her lungs were aching, pleading, begging for her to ease their pain. The fingers curled around her neck, pressing harder.

But there was no one there, she was alone.

She had been through this before, she had survived. So, why did it feel like this was the end? Tears ran down her face as struggled. She had to be okay. But the fear, the panic, it was overwhelming. Screaming, yelling, wailing, roaring; too many thoughts, too many decisions, too many actions.

"Celeste, listen to me, I'm right here with you," called a voice, grasping at her hands. "I'm right here, darling. I need you to focus on me, alright?"

She knew that voice. She knew it better than the back of her hand. But she couldn't think. It was too much.

"Count down from ten with me," he said.

She gasped in a gulp of air as she responded, "I can't."

"To hell you can't," he cursed. "I've seen you brave so many things, Celestia, and I know you can do this. Put your head between your knees, and listen to me, okay?"

There was a pressure on her head, pushing it down to her knees. Real hands. Not the ones that had seized at her throat. She knew this touch, knew that it meant she was safe.

"I've got you. Count with me," he continued.

She clutched the hands that had been placed in hers as she counted. Her breathing came back, her heart slowing. The fingers intertwined with her own were full of rings, rings that she had bought Theo for Christmas.

She didn't raise her head, but she pulled him closer. Breathing in deeply, savouring each breath. It felt as if she had just crashed through the ocean surface, breathing air after you had just struggled to kick off the floor. She leaned her head on his shoulder, fiddling with the rings on his hands.

"I can't—They just—Bellatrix is—Everyone was—" stumbled Celestia.

"I know. Just breathe with me," said Theo, stroking her head.

Bellatrix Lestrange escaping Azkaban was bad enough. She had been a figure of Celestia's nightmares for years after she had learnt what her Aunt had done. Then, there were the nine other wizards she escaped with, all who were undoubtedly Death Eaters as well.