DOORWAYS || MARAUDERS ERA

ϟ50: ANOTHER SUMMER WITH THE POTTERS (PART III)ϟ

Rhea woke up in cold sweat, gasping and thrashing violently, feeling as though she was drowning. Her hands clutched her throat as she gasped and heaved, trying to breathe and trying not to get suffocated. Kicking the mattress harshly and trying to call out to Hermione to help her, she almost fell from her bed in an attempt to put a stop to this pain and pressure.

For a moment she thought Slytherin's locket was the thing that was choking her to death, but then she remembered it was Harry who was wearing the locket this time since he had been on the lookout.

Harry...

Rhea gasped loudly when she realized she wasn't the one who was drowning, but it was Harry.

Waking up with a start, Rhea vaguely registered the fact that the feeling of drowning was slowly fading, leaving her breathless and tired. Air filled her lungs, and Rhea was relieved the painful suffocation had subsided. She looked at Hermione, who was still sleeping throughout the ruckus Rhea had made. Deciding she would go and find Harry on her own, she grabbed her wand and sprinted out of the tent.

The cold air whipped against Rhea's face, and she wished she had taken a jacket with her. Snowflakes slid from the bare branches of the trees, and the ground was a solid sheet of ice. Rhea was not running towards anywhere in particular—she was merely trusting her instincts to lead her to Harry.

Rhea got the shock of her life when she glanced at a silvery white figure standing amidst the trees in a narrow pathway. Was it a ghost? Was it a patronus? Rhea didn't know, but exhaustion was taking over her and her paranoia just increased.

The silver doe locked eyes with her, and for a second the two of them stared at each other, before the doe sprinted away from her with alarming speed. Its aura was dimming, and Rhea broke into a run in an attempt to catch up with it, but to no avail.

But she had found a lead—Rhea rushed to the narrow path from where the doe had run away with her heart in her throat. Where was Harry? Why on earth was he drowning?

After a solid five minutes, Rhea found herself in a huge, empty ground. The ground was a hard sheet of ice, and Rhea felt her teeth chattering violently. Hugging herself to warm her up, she looked all over, hoping to find Harry.

Rhea's heart almost stopped when she noticed two figures standing several meters away from her. Both of them were drenched, and one of them held the Gryffindor sword in his hands. The other held the Slytherin Locket... but it was...

Broken.

Rhea wanted to call out to Harry, ask him who he was talking to. But her eyes were on the boy with red flaming red hair. Her words choked in her throat as Harry gazed at Ronald Weasley, partly in hurt and partly in sheer happiness upon seeing his best friend.

Both boys moved towards each other simultaneously, and raised their arms to pull each other into a tight hug. Ron's eyes were red, as though he had been crying, and Rhea had the fleeting urge to bawl her eyes out too.

At last, she managed to speak up, and her voice was hoarse and thick with emotion. "Ron?"

╔═══*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═══╗

Dear Luna,

How are you? I hope you are enjoying your summer at the Potters'. Convey my wishes to Rhea as well, and please, on my behalf, ask her to stop dyeing her hair in those ridiculous colours.

Silver Tongue has been sending me some makeup tips (weren't you the one who mentioned that this could be a possibility if I ever started up a correspondence with You-Know-Who?). She's also been sending in passive aggressive ideas to kill people, which I don't deem necessary. Imagine what would happen if the letter went astray—I would probably be rotting in Azkaban by now.