Epilogue Part 11: Dreamer's Lullaby

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did anyone else use to play the harry potter PC games from the early 2000s? i loved throwing the gnomes and they made dumb noises

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14/06/98

Hermione,

How's Brisbane? Was the flight ok? Is the coin purse working fine?

I miss you already. I'm sorry for everything I said.

-R

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"Oh no, Robyn, d-don't look–"

But Robyn looked and there Dylan was, lying in that corridor outside the Room of Requirement, hole in her stomach oozing blood. It pooled around her body. Robyn was kneeling beside her, and when she lifted her hands, they were covered in blood, too. She wiped them on her soot-covered school shirt but the blood would not come off no matter how hard she tried, and she kept trying over and over again, frantic.

"Robby?"

She gasped for air at the sound of Dylan's weak, raspy, barely there voice. And she gasped again, horrified, when she looked up: Bellatrix stood over the two of them. She didn't point her wand at them; instead, she raised her fist, and she punched Robyn for all she was worth, punched her so hard Robyn's teeth flew out of her mouth.

Ouch.

Robyn fell to the side, hitting her head against the stone floor. Dread in her chest, she ran her tongue over where her teeth should be, feeling only broken shards. She sobbed and forced herself to sit up; she couldn't leave an already injured Dylan to the mercy of Bellatrix.

But it was too late.

"Crucio."

But... that wasn't Bellatrix's voice. No, she had been replaced by Father, and Robyn was in third year again, sitting by as he tortured Dylan right in front of her.

"S-Stop it, leave her alone," she cried, but she was not heard over the sound of Dylan's screams. "She's dying."

And it all stopped. Everything stopped.

Dylan was dead.

Lloyd was in Azkaban. The wind whistled loudly. He was sitting on a rock in the middle of his room, his arms wrapped around his knees, and he was looking around the darkness wildly. They were coming for him, scuttering around the floor on their stupid little feet, here, there, and everywhere. Ugh, the noise. Robyn hated the noise. And Lloyd was evidently scared of it, of them.

The gnomes.

One of them made a great leap for him, to which he fell backwards off the rock, landing with a thump.

The wind whistled louder.

He pushed himself away, away, away, until he bumped into Azkaban's stone wall, and then they snatched him: not the gnomes, but the Wall People, with their horrible red hands. That was all she could see of them. The rest of their bodies were hidden by black cloaks. Death Eater cloaks?

And then, then Robyn realised she had been watching this affair from the walls, too, and she had blood on her hands, too, and she was- she was ripping Lloyd to pieces, too, with the rest of the Wall People.

Lloyd was the bread and they were going to eat him alive.

She awoke with a gasp and a racing heart and, as per, a pounding headache. In the blackness of her room, the only reason she knew she wasn't back in Azkaban was because she was sweating. In Azkaban, there had been an ever-present chill in her bones, which at one point she was sure would never, ever leave her, that she'd never be warm again.

But that was then and this was now. Now, she was overheating and panicking, because she might not be back in Azkaban physically, but mentally?

She paused, trying to get a hold of herself, trying to catch her breath. There were no gnomes running around the floor, there were no Wall People, there were no Bellatrix Lestranges or Fathers. She was alone.

She was alone.

Even the cats didn't want anything to do with her.

She held her breath, just to make sure there really were no scuttling gnomes running around under her bed, and then she threw back the covers and jumped out the too-big-bed in the too-big-room in the too-big-house and called: "Winnie."

"Miss Robby is calling for Winnie?"

"Oh, please don't—" she cut herself off with an impatient huff. "Can you just- can you light the lantern for me? I don't like the dark. I- I don't like being alone in the dark, and—"

And Hermione's gone.

"And I'm scared. Can you—?"

"Not at alls, Miss Robby!"

"Please, I've told you, don't call me—"

The lantern flickered on to reveal Winnie standing right in front of her, smiling up at her with her big, bug eyes.

"Winnie." She pressed her hand to her chest - after making sure there was no (literal) blood on it. "You scared me."

"Winnie is sorry, Miss Robby. Winnie has broughts Robby a potion for her headache. It is well pasts sleepy time. It is beddy-bye-byes time."

"Thanks," whispered Robyn, gulping the proffered potion. She immediately felt calmer. "How did you know—?"

"A house-elf always knows!"

"Of course," she whispered again, swallowing heavily. "And I know it's beddy-bye-byes time—" she coughed, "er, bedtime. But I had a- a bad dream. And I don't like being alone. And I can't be arsed to find the cats if they'll just ditch me immediately - it'll hurt my feelings."

"But Winnie cans stay with her Robby, of course she cans!"

"Well..." Robyn blinked, not at all opposed to the idea. "All right, if you don't mind."

She got back in her bed - which still, of course, felt way too big - waiting for Winnie, who climbed up gracefully. Winnie tucked her in and sat by her head, running her fingers through Robyn's hair - Robyn forced thoughts of Dylan from her mind - and she wasted no time, singing: "Whispers of kindness, like a gentle breeze, wrap around your heart, bringing sweet ease. Sleep, my precious one, in the moon's soft glow, a dreamer's lullaby, letting love flow. As the night unfolds its magical wing, dream sweet dreams, my dear, till morning sings. Dreamer's lullaby, a tender, elfin tune, guides you to a night where dreams softly swoon."

"That's very nice, Winnie, thank you," Robyn whispered tearfully, overcome with emotion at the old lullaby Winnie used to sing to her when she was a child.

"Go to sleep, Miss Robby. Winnie will sings to Robby until Robby is safe in the arms of Morpheus."

"Okay," whispered Robyn, "okay."

Winnie was gone when she woke up the next morning, but at least Crookshanks and Jinx lay curled up together at the end of her bed. It still felt too big without Hermione, but maybe not impossibly so.

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