Chapter Eight: All Those Rumours and Unveiling Circumstances

136 5 10
                                    

Elise's POV:

The situation had completely jarred me. Which was as much of a surprise to me as it would be for anyone else. You would think after five long years of battles, infiltrations and sacrifices that I would be prepared for anything. But that couldn't have been further from the truth.

Because no matter how much a person had gone through, no matter what they'd seen – what they'd experienced, nothing could silence that paralysing worry. The silent drop to your stomach, the trail of sweat against your skin, the struggle of catching your breath through the adrenaline.

Some might even argue the more a person experienced the more they feared. Things like war and crime were the soil that sustained the seeds of anxiety. The one everyone had the capability of since the beginning. No-one could escape it. No matter how much they suppressed or fought against it. It was basic instinct, a human foundation. Without it, the peaceful moments in life wouldn't be as cherished. Without it, the times where you could step back and just... breathe would mean nothing.

So I took it slow, reminding myself of this fact, one that I always struggled to remember. No-one could ever truly handle everything. And I was doing just fine.

Hermione was the first to speak up. "What a load of rubbish!"

Ron agreed, shaking his head. "Bollocks."

"She might as well have us collect dust to use to bring us back into time!" She continued.

"Well, maybe not dust but that time turner-"

"Not my point, Harry."

His jaw snapped shut.

My reminder eased my anxiety a little, but it didn't mean it had gone away completely. Everything inside my twisted and contorted with reminders of recent events. I didn't leave the school much anymore. The painful nausea I got everytime the Thestrals were around hasn't quite shaken off yet.

There was no way this was what I would have expected to happen coming back, let alone how long the feeling would fester. And I still wasn't anywhere close to telling the rest of my friends about it. Luna knowing was already scary enough. The thought fastened another knot in my chest.

That afternoon with Luna helped it a little, and I knew that the Thestrals had no bad intentions or a want for any of this. But every time I saw one, let my gaze wander or felt its cold eyes meet mine, it was like I was back.

I could feel my ankle cry in agony, the front seat that was forced back by the impact pushing into my chest. My hands cramped at the memory of grasping on to broken glass, the weight of my entire body only digging them in deeper. My last sight of him flashed by quickly. Wispy black hair, glasses chipped, face slowly losing its colour. I couldn't even look at him during the funeral. My heart couldn't bear the thought  of only being met with cold and grey – dull and lifeless.

No.

Come on, Elise. Snap out of it.

I glanced between my friends, watching Harry's smile slow, Hermione's frustration burn, and Ron's scowl deepen.

This isn't the time.

"Our predictions can't be that bad," I said with a plastered smile, "Trelawny likes to be a little dramatic. I'm sure it's just for show."

Defining Secrets // Ron WeasleyWhere stories live. Discover now