The Other Potter: Book 7

I call this the blue steel

Thought: an idea or opinion produced by thinking or occurring suddenly in the mind.

Prolonged exposure to thoughts leads to a manifestation of all things terrible. Your brain will ache as it focuses on your insecurities and doubts and expands them; maximises them into something greater; something so real it’s almost physical. Exposure often occurs when one is tired and lays in bed at night; when one is sitting a very important exam but they don’t know the work; when one is locked in a magical box for a week.

A piece of advice: don’t think.

Act on your gut instinct. Become a creature of habit. Simplify things. Don’t work too hard on things you don’t enjoy. Spend time doing the things you love.

But don’t think.

Because thinking leads to overthinking.

And overthinking leads to an overactive brain.

And an overactive brain prevents you from sleeping.

And lack of sleep prevents you from functioning.

And bad functioning of a human is the same as malfunctioning.

And a malfunctioning chainsaw is dangerous, just like a malfunctioning person.

Thinking has been the demise of everyone living and dead, and evidentially, being in the thought boxes has made me think.

It’s made me think about death and how it’s unavoidable.

And about how I will inevitably break George’s heart whether we get married or not because I'm unstable and I only thrive when the world is unstable and to be honest I’ve never functioned in a stable world and after the war there will be stability and it terrifies me.

And it’s made me think about the prophecies written about the future and me. And the people who created me. And about all of the expectations that I will never live up to and all of the pain that I’ve caused. And about all the people I disappoint. And about how I have ruined lives in the past, and in the present and how I have managed to ruin lives in a future that doesn’t yet exist.

It’s made me think about how unfair the world is.

No one said it would be easy, no one said the world was fair, but they never told me it was like this. They never said that good usually loses because they have more to lose in the first place. They never said that evil isn’t always evil. They never explained that people are people and I am a people and people are people like me.

I have thought about how everyone fighting in this war is completely human. And that they all have pasts and futures and regrets and they’ve all been cut off mid sentence before and they’ve all felt inadequate and they’ve all got reasons behind their choices and they are people. I forget this. I forget this all the time.

It’s made me angry, so very angry, knowing that no matter how hard I try, it will always end the same way. I will face my inevitable fate and the world doesn’t care if I think I can avoid it because I can’t. It’s going to happen, whether I believe it or not. Something is going to happen and all the pieces will fall into place and my fate will be sealed.

I DON’T EVEN BELIEVE IN FATE BUT THIS SHIT IS HAPPENING TO ME.

What do you do when you’re faced with a choice. A terrible choice. Involving life and death and joy and sorrow of the entire world. What do you do? Can you be selfish? Or will that haunt you for the rest of your life? Can you be thoughtful? And jeopardize the existence of thought?

It makes sense and it doesn’t.

It is but it isn’t.

To be or not to be?, Shakespeare asked.

And I guess that question has stood the test of time for a reason. No one knows. It is a question that cannot be answered. It is a question that summarises the reason for my entire existence. It is –

“You okay?” Ginny’s face peered down at me.

I felt the rush of fresh air flowing into the box and I began to cough. I knew this was not uncommon for someone released from a thought box. There was probably some scientific explanation regarding why this happened, but I’m a witch not a scientist, so I had no clue why.

Ginny and someone else helped me to climb out of the box, but I could hardly stand. I was sort of passed to someone else who could carry me. I was still coughing. It tasted like rust.

I must have passed out at some point, because when I opened my eyes again, I was lying in one of the Room of Requirement beds, an IV drip stabbed into my arm, and chaos around the room. I listened to what was going on, but I didn’t have the energy to move. Or to keep my eyes open for that matter. Some of the fifth years were putting their practiced healing spells into action as a bunch of injured kids turned up. From what I could hear, someone stuffed up, and Ginny had to fix it.

My ears sort of tuned out of that and picked up on a very quiet voice whispering.

“I should be happy. I am alive. My family is alive. People here love me.” it sounded as if they were trying to convince themself. “I’m so sad. I shouldn’t be sad. Why am I so useless? I’m so unimportant. I shouldn’t be sad. I’m pathetic.”

I sat up then, my body groaning in protest, and faced the person who spoke. It was a fourth year girl.

“Honey, are you okay?” I asked her quietly.

She looked up at me and shook her head ‘yes’. Her eyes betrayed her though.

“Are you lying because you’re ashamed?”

She shook a yes again.

“If you ever want to talk about anything, just ask me okay?” I said kindly. I knew what it was like to be in her position. You don’t always want to talk to someone. You especially don’t want to speak to someone who just eavesdropped on you.

She nodded.

“There’s a little room over there –“ I pointed and a room appeared. “No one will disturb us there.”

She offered me a weak smile, before standing up and hiding amongst the throng of people.

“Willow!” I heard a shout that sounded just like Mrs. Weasley. I looked across to see Neville storming over to me, looking livid.

And in that moment I swear Neville was a female Weasley.

“You’re meant to be lying down. Asleep! Resting!”

“Sorry.” I shrugged.

“Lie down.”

“I can’t.”

“What?”

“I’m too tired to move.”

“For god’s sake.” Neville pushed me onto my side. “There.” He pulled my blankets over me. “Sleep.”