CONFUNDUS; harry potter [UNDER EDITION]

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

LUCCA SALLOW'S LETTER TO HARRY POTTER. DECEMBER OF 1999.

[...]

After that night at the Ministry, everything was a blur for me. I don't remember much of it. My therapist says it was the trauma. My Healers think I actually never recovered from the curse. My mind is weak, so weak that I think my pain blinded me to the point I, sometimes, can't remember much of myself.

Do you remember when you asked me how I know which ones are visions and which ones are just dreams? Back then, I couldn't tell the difference. Now, I realised I can't touch your hand in dreams, fingers seem to vanish, clocks don't work and the letters are blurry. Visions, however, are too clear, too real.

I hate visions. I hate the idea of them telling me I can't change the future. I hate them because most of them are about you.

But I think I hate dreams even more. I hate nightmares because I can't wake up and I takes me too long to know those are just dreams. Some are nights I dream you are crossing the Veil. Other nightmares, you didn't wake up when they brought you from the woods.

Can you understand my fear now, Harry?

What if I changed your fate, too? What if I killed you like I killed my mother?

If that happened, then what would happen to me in a world without you?

[...]

"It's too tight."

"It's perfectly fine."

Lucca tugs the neck of his shirt, huffing. "Too tight. Can't breathe."

Pandora's eyes narrow dangerously at him. She doesn't stop Lucca loosening his tie nor says anything else, she won't do anything in front of too many people. Milan, standing next to him, clears her throat so Lucca lowers his hand, tucking it in his trousers pockets and looks ahead.

They are silent as the guests start to appear in the entrance of the backyard. Bubba is guiding them, wearing a small tuxedo for his size.

Lucca still feels Pandora's gaze on him. He picks on the skin of his fingers, too unbothered to care if she is angry. Lucca is also angry. Not about the stupid tie. Lucca doesn't care if his tie is done badly. He wants to leave.

Pandora doesn't think the same. "It's crocked."

"Alright."

She inhales, her fists tight. Lucca tenses but manages to eye her, defiant.

"Please, Lucca. Fix your tie."

Lucca tugs it even lower. Pandora closes her eyes.

"It's just a stupid tie," Venice finally says.

Lucca knows it is not about the tie. Pandora is slowly cornering him, waiting, like a predator for him to lose his nerves. Lucca won't. Lucca is not letting her win this. He refuses to be scared of his grandmother.

"Lucca..."

Lucca doesn't listen to her as the first guests, colleagues of his mother, approach. William clears his throat and welcomes them, accepting their condolences and shaking hands. Lucca tilts his chin up. Pandora lowers her head, just a bit, enough for Lucca to notice it.