Nothing's Fair In Love And War | Zarry

Part One

Blood.

That was the first thing Harry noticed in the darkness. He narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out where the light flickering on the stone floor came from. The air was cold and humid, frosting all his joints and knuckles as he tiptoed to make an attempting step. His breath stopped as his bare feet touched the liquid rambling to his direction.

The familiar paintings on the wall weren't hard for Harry to tell where he was. He looked up slowly. The hall of the sorority house had never been this eerie, and the silence was so drowsy that he couldn't even hear the wind knocking on the window. All he could assure was that the tepid, half-stiffen blood was only inches away from him.

He should wake up the girls upstairs. There were thirteen of them. He shouldn't feel frightened – if he's able to make his body follow the order. His arms and legs suddenly lost all their functions. Even when he tried to yell out loud, he couldn't utter a single sound.

And then he saw it, the vague figure on the opposite side of the hall. His eyes following the blood and the dim light and stopped by the object at the end of the trace. It was a dead body, lying with its face down. The flood of the blood streamed down from the ten swords embedded in its back.

Harry was wakened by his own scream.

There were two golden eyes welcoming him in the dark. Harry caught his breath rapidly, blinking at the empty ceiling. He sat up in bed and buried his face into his palms. The two golden eyes were still locking on him.

"Sorry, Molly." Harry apologised, reaching his arm to the small cat cringing beside his bed. But she didn't answer to his invitation, only replying with a soft meowing and wriggling her tail at him. Harry lowered his hand with a sigh, climbing down his bed for some cool water. He took a quick glimpse at the antique cuckoo clock on the wall. It hadn't even been 3 am yet.

It had been over three years since he took his oath and dedicated his blood to the coven leaded by Taylor. He then moved to this old sorority house purchased by Taylor's family in late 1930s with the other twelve girls. Harry was the only male witch in the coven – not all the members agreed it was a good idea. His grandmother wasn't just telling tales to scare him – witches didn't trust men, even though he was part of group.

Taylor had always been supportive for his role in the coven. After he moved away from his hometown, he realised it wasn't as easy as he thought to keep in touch with his family. He sometimes wondered what his mother did everyday after two of her children had left the house. Gemma still stayed in France, Miranda's track was always elusive, and Caroline had been traveling to Ireland. Taylor was the only one who could accompany by his side.

And that's also the reason why Harry didn't want to bother her. Taylor was very nice, and that made Harry guilty feeling uneasy with her kindness. He felt like the youngest and spoiled kid in the family who always brought trouble home. He had to teach little witches basic history of magic – the only subject requiring no charms, and he still somehow turned two girls and one little boy's hair into orange and couldn't change them back. Although the kids found it funny and no one was harmed, Taylor still had no choice but assign the other witch to replace him. Harry only kept the job as an assistant.

He was a fucking joke.

There was no more water left in his bottle. Harry bit the edge of his glass, staring at the curtain waving in the breeze. The nightmare still occupied his mind regardless of the iced water sliding down to his stomach. He recognised the symbol as soon as he woke up: Ten of Swords, one of the Minor Arcana cards. Despite his talent in fortune telling, Harry was quite bad at Tarot cards. Even so, it's not difficult for him to understand the meaning behind this card.

Molly was meowing again. Harry realised he was shivering. He put the glass down, but he couldn't help rubbing his fist over and over. He hated every prophetic dream he'd ever had, no matter what the content was. It was the same feeling as MI5 intercepted a secret message about assassinating the prime minister but no one knew when and where it was going to happen. And to Harry, it was even worse – he could barely interpret the messages that were put into his head. Sometimes they helped, most of time they didn't.

He had to make a decision.

"Something bad is happening to our coven?"

It was nearly dawn. Taylor crossed her arms at her chest, trying to focus on Harry's explanation. She was still sleepy after the rapid knocks on her door five minutes ago. However, she's paying full attention, especially for how reliable her friend's dreams were.

"Perhaps 'something bad' is too mild to convey the situation. You study about Tarot more than I do." Harry replied, but he was looking at his reflection in the crystal ball on Taylor's dresser. His face was paler surrounded by the nebulous material in the ball. Taylor kept quiet, loosening her arms and holding her knees with her palms.

"I'm sorry." Harry whispered, "I didn't mean to make you panic."

"Don't say that, Harry. We all know how significant your prophecy is. What do you think it's coming? Ten of Swords contains a lot of different meanings." Taylor closed her eyes to go through her memories, "Pain, defeat, crisis, failure, disaster –"

"Death." Harry finished for her. Taylor's countenance fell.

"It's just a general idea." Taylor muttered, "Tarot cards don't have only one consequence. It could also mean a new start and rebirth. We have to put a lot of things into consideration. Like...was the card reversed?"

Harry shook his head, "I knew what I saw, Taylor. It wouldn't show up like that in my dream if it were revered. The card was upright."

The conversation was stuck again. Taylor took a deep breath and lifted herself from the chair, starting to stroll up and down in the room. Harry didn't join her. He's still glaring at the crystal ball as if he could actually see something between the clouds.

"When is it gonna happen?" Taylor stopped her pace.

"Hard to say. In my dream it was the distance of the entire hall. That probably equals to one month or less."

Taylor didn't continue to walk nor respond to Harry. The sunlight had come out from the edge of the sky, melting the darkness like the first day of spring.

"So," after a long break, Taylor turned back to face him. "Someone in our coven...is going to die in one month?"

"That's not exactly what it means." Harry changed his tone immediately, trying to sooth the tense atmosphere. "Look, maybe it's just nothing but a nightmare, I shall go back to –"

"No, Harry." Taylor forced a smile at him, "I think that will be me."