\ wherein she wakes /
"AH, I BELIEVE SHE WILL awaken any moment now..." said an ear-bleedingly cheery voice. I opened my eyes groggily and saw a perfectly white ceiling, and shut my eyes again, wishing I hadn't opened them.
I was still at wherever Voldemort had brought me too, except I was now on a bed while they sat there and taunted me. Groaning and wishing they would just say I was dead and move on, I rolled over to my side and pulled the covers over my head in my daze- as if that would do anything.
"Pheobe?"
"Go away, no nose," I muttered, rubbing my eyes. "I'm dead or something."
"The hell you are! Where the fuck- er- sorry Professor-"
"I seem to have gone temporarily deaf..."
"Er-"
"Right, well- where the fuck have you been?"
"One second we're all going to bed or whatever, then you show up here a day later, bloody unconscio-"
"Mr. Potter! Mr. Weasley! If you could bear to wait just a few more hours, I am sure you would get the wisp of a reasonable response!" snapped a brisk voice. "She woke up after unconsciousness and lord knows what has happened to her, however I must insist all of you- even you, Professor- leave! Her mind is still muddy after the countless potions I've had to give..." I tuned the stern voice out but I could still hear Voldemort's and Wormtail's voices ringing in my ears, mixed in with the three voices that belonged to my friends, and it felt like my head was submerged underwater.
"Am I dead?"
someone sharply whacked me round the head.
"Ronald!"
My thoughts felt muddled, but suddenly all the voices fell quiet and I realized there was only one option left as to where I was, if not with Voldemort.
"God?"
"No, you're in Hell."
"I think the fuck not," I muttered, grinning dazedly as I pulled the covers off of me, deciding that Voldemort probably would have killed me if it really was him. "Ron?"
"One and only."
"Harry?"
"No, this is Patrick."
this answer caught me by surprise, and I blinked a couple times as four blurry figures came into focus. Someone handed me a pair of glasses and I slipped them on as my vision cleared, revealing a girl with bushy hair who looked extremely concerned; a ginger with a smirk etched on his face which did nothing to hide the concern in his blue eyes; a boy with lit-up green eyes but with furrowed eyebrows; and a man with a long beard who looked absolutely pleasant and supremely unperturbed.
I searched for the words- how the hell did you find me? What happened?- but all I could settle for was a simple, "hi."
"Three days of unconsciousness and you go for hi."
"Three days? Damn." I reached a hand up to my head but paused when I felt the papery feeling of bandages on my forehead.
"Yeah, that happened. No idea how, but you needed a hell of a lot of potions just to get there."
"Dobby visited my office yesterday," said Dumbledore, "he explained everything."
"Dobby?"
"He saved my fucking life- shit, sorry Dumbledore." he smiled, a twinkle in his eyes.
"I believe my ear needs a thorough cleansing, as I am once again unable to hear anything. I will leave you to rest, Miss Wilson, while I go fix my ear. Good day to you all."
"What's up with him?" I frowned, watching the man leave. The three people before me shrugged simultaneously.
"Don't think we'll ever know."
"Anyways..." Hermione said, "what happened?"
"Well...fuck-" something stung somewhere on my body all of a sudden, and I rolled up my right sleeve to reveal a thin, burning scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. Faking nonchalance, I pulled it back up and shrugged at my friends. "I got hit by the Avada...and now, here we are."
"Everyone knows that much," said Hermione briskly, "the whole school knows. You didn't show up to class for a day, but then you show up on the courtyard, unconscious and with a cut on your forehead? Not only that, but Dobby ran around the courtyard begging for help, saying you'd been struck by the..."
"Really?" I winced, sitting up on the bed and feeling a sharp stab to my ribs, remembering that it was where one of the Death Eaters had gruffly punched me.
"I think yesterday was the day you got on the Daily Prophet," Ron said thoughtfully. "Anyways, you're, like, the Chosen Girl now!" he paused for a second. "Also, you got to miss like three days of school. Lucky bast-"
"Ronald! What a pleasant way to wake her up!" Hermione snapped, briskly slapping him. "de toute façon... comment te sens-tu, pheobe?"
[anyway... how are you, Pheobe?]
"Je vais bien, Hermione... mais je vais tuer ce Moldy Voldy. Putain de bâtard"
[I'm fine, Hermione...but I'm gonna kill Moldy Voldy. Fucking bastard.]
Hermione laughed sharply, causing Ron and Harry to stare between the two of us for a second.
"Moldy Voldy?" She repeated, grinning. "Where did you come up with such a ridiculous name?"
"I didn't come up with it," I said pointedly, "when he named himself Voldemort, he knew what was coming," I heard an intake of breath when I said the name, and Harry high fived me.
"Finally someone who isn't terrified of the name and has to deal with the same things I do!" Harry said happily.
"You seem so happy that now I'm going to face life or death situations with you," I said grimly.
.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.
"It's not going to work," Hermione sang.
"And why's that, Granger?" Fred asked. Hermione huffed, shutting her book as I looked at them with an amused expression.
"Because, Dumbledore himself drew that Age line, and if you think two pathetically dim-witted potions are going to break that-"
"Ah, but that's why it's going to work- because it's so pathetic and dim-witted!" George said with a grin. "Bottoms up, brother...!"
"Hello," said a small voice, and I turned my head to see a boy with cropped blonde hair looking up at me, his green eyes wide and bright.
"Hi," I said with a small hum, "what's up?"
"Are you Pheobe?"
"I certainly hope so," I smiled. He didn't return it. "Um, yeah, I am."
"Professor Dumbledore wants to see you."
"Oh, okay," I nodded, getting to my feet, before the boy added-
"Are you really the Chosen Girl?" I winced.
"Um, you can call me Pheobe," I said quickly, waving slightly at him before walking to Dumbledore's office, the halls rather quiet as everyone was in the Great Hall, waiting to see who would enter their names. The silence passed quickly, though, because when I entered Dumbledore's office the first thing he said to me was,
"Pheobe. I hope you realize what this means."
"Sir?" I frowned, shutting the door behind me and taking a seat in front of his desk.
"All that you have gone through in the last few days." he elaborated.
"Professor," I began unsteadily, and he nodded at me as if to say, 'go on', "I don't really understand. Why did I survive?"
"Ah, well, Pheobe, I have many guesses, but none of them seem to be the perfect answer." Dumbledore answered. I bit my lip.
Okay, so Dumbledore was a pretty useless guy, I had to admit, we could have lived without him if all he was going to give us was coded responses.
"Um...okay, well then I only have one more. Well, two, but I kind of get the feeling you won't answer either- sorry, er- when I was...there, Voldemort tried to Crucio me, except. It didn't work." he nodded thoughtfully.
"Pheobe, see this memory I have, of a witch a long time ago, when Voldemort was just beginning." He said, standing. I got to my feet as well and followed him to the Pensive in the corner of his office, looking mystical and magical as ever. He reached up on a cabinet and poured a silvery substance out of one of his vials, before nodding to me. I hesitated before submerging my head underwater.
"Come, Girl. Is that all you have?" Voldemort jeered, wand raised.
"No, Voldemort, but that seems to be all you have. Instead of dueling, you've been talking the whole time, " The woman said coolly.
"CRUCIO!" Voldemort screamed, but nothing happened to the woman.
"Oh, gee, guess you haven't been practicing," the woman taunted. He snarled. "STUPEFY!" Voldemort froze, eyes wide open, and fell to the floor as the woman smiled and cast some charms before Disapparating.
The scene shifted all of a sudden, now focused on the same woman except in Dumbledore's office...except-
"Please, Minerva," the woman said, pulling a strand of black hair behind her ear and cracking her knuckles anxiously. "I only ask of you one thing."
"Miss Black, you'd be the most famous witch of all time!" McGonagall protested kindly.
"No, Miner-"
"Headmistress?" called a voice. McGonagall shut the door with a casual flick of her wrist.
"Minerva, listen to me. He's not gone, not truly. He'll come back, and the first person on his hit list will undoubtedly be me."
"Miss Black..."
"Please."
The scene faded away and suddenly I was back in Dumbledore's office, asking questions faster than my brain could process.
"What happened to her? Who's Miss Black? What did she want Professor McGona- annnd I'm here by myself." I swore under my breath as I looked around, the only other occupant in the room being Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix. Muttering curses under my breath, I left the office, wondering why the hell Dumbledore had made me come if he was only going to give me even more questions that I would spend sleepless nights poring over.