A Wizard's Misgivings

CHAPTER SIX

Phil looked down at his hand, which was currently encasing another hand in it. The hand was soft, the skin tan and the fingers were long and thick. He watched as his thumb stroked the thumb of the hand he was holding, feeling a smile on his face when the hand squeezed his in response.

Suddenly, with a strong, forceful urge, he found himself desperate to find out who this hand belonged to. Just why was he holding a hand anyway? One that felt so right in his own. One that felt so good to hold. One that he wanted to tug on, to pull the hand's owner upwards, to their feet. One he wanted to keep holding, as he tugged the person forward, their feet falling over each other, laughter falling from their mouths just as easily.

His eyes followed the arm connected to the hand. As his eyes slid further up, he could see that the arm was tensed, the muscles stiff and straining. He felt the hand he was holding stiffen suddenly, gripping his hand painfully hard, before letting go, trying to pull away. Phil didn't want them to go though, so he grabbed the hand harder, tightening his grip, not wanting to let go. He had to find out who it was!

Finally, he dragged his eyes to the owner's face, and surprise shot through his body. It was Howell. Dan Howell. His face was screwed up in pain, and he was gasping, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes, his entire body writhing slightly, struggling to get away from him.

With a shock of understanding, Phil dropped the hand he was holding, knowing that it was he who was causing the Gryffindor pain. He watched as Howell yanked his hand to his chest, cradling it close to his body, still shivering from the pain, still whimpering.

Phil gasped, opening his eyes and sitting up in bed. That damn dream again.

He supposed that it might've been a nightmare, although it started off pleasant enough. It was always the same. Always Howell's hand he was holding, soft and perfect, until suddenly it wasn't, and Phil was hurting him. It always left Phil sweaty and shaking, guilty for the pain he'd caused Howell in the past. Of course, he almost never hurt him anymore, not unless it was by accident.

The last time Phil had hurt Howell on purpose had been in their fourth year, when he'd been taunting Phil and his family, and he'd lost his temper, stepping forward and shoving the shorter boy to the ground. Howell had gasped, but the pain had lasted only a second, and wasn't nearly as bad as what Phil had done in their first year.

He still got shivers thinking about it, the way he'd hurt Howell. How he'd sat on his chest, pinned him to the ground, restrained him. He could remember clearly the way howell's lip had split open with how fiercely his teeth had been digging into his lip. He could remember the way Howell had finally clenched his eyes shut, a few stray tears squeezing through them despite that. He could especially remember the way Howell's scream had sounded, echoing in the Entrance Hall, blatantly full of pain, as if Phil were torturing him. And he had been, Phil realized now. Looking back, as an eleven year old, Phil had just been annoyed that his hair had been turned orange by his arch nemesis, the one he'd currently been trying to lay off of.

He'd snapped, deciding that if Howell was willing to start fights, then he'd also be willing to deal with the inevitable. And so Phil had pinned him to the ground, a few seconds of triumph, quickly countered with horror and revulsion for what he had done, only to be added with guilt for even doing it, and then coupled with the resulting nightmares he would then begin to have. For the next five years.

With a shaky breath, Phil expunged all the thoughts of Dan Howell from his head. He hated thinking about him. He hated the guilt and shame that thinking about him brought.

Phil shut down his mind, ceasing all thoughts about stupid Howell. He laid back down and buried his head under his pillow as if to block out the thoughts. He tried to force himself to fall back asleep, as he always did. It was utterly useless, he knew, because it almost never happened.