Otherworld Adventures with a Beastkin Skill
All My Dreams Are Nightmares
Looking at my own dead body was the most horrifying experience I could’ve ever imagined. Only I never imagined being dead! I certainly never imagined dying by the hand of Molly Bloody Weasley of all people! Somehow she’d killed me though. For a moment I was too shocked by that to even be upset. My mouth moved silently as I blinked down at the mass of my wild curly black tresses just lying there on the ground, dead as the rest of me. I lay in a crumpled heap where I’d fallen, only I also floated above my body looking down. I was a bloody ghost!
Realizing this was jarring in a very particular and special way. I mean it isn’t every day that one realizes that they’re dead…Not to mention killed in such a shameful fashion without a blaze of glory in sight. After all I’d gone through, did I at least not deserve to die an honorable death, surrounded by piles of dead Muggles and Mudbloods? I’d earned my reputation, after all, and it was the least I deserved.
A low cry jolted me from my shock and I saw the muscular arms of my husband Rod reaching for my…corpse. My ghostly self shuddered as the sight of dead me sank in all over again. A corpse was something I’d never aspired to be, after all. Roddy reached for me but he was surrounded by Aurors and dragged away before he could take my body into his arms. The shock and grief on his face twisted my heart. What would he do without me? We never separated! This simply was not in the plan…or any of the plans we’d made for that matter. To my relief, I found myself being transported with him. We were back in Azkaban!
“No bloody way,” I shrieked. I did not die to end up back here again! Not that I’d ever leave you,” I added hastily to my now gaping husband.
As wizarding ghosts can still be seen, unlike the far weaker spirits of Muggles, my husband had no problem seeing and hearing me.
“I must be bound to you,” I said, allowing the relief of that to come through in my voice.
Rodolphus and I never wanted to be separated, and it looked as though we’d get our wish. Only now I was a ghost in Azkaban.
“At least we’re in the same cell now,” I stated with a mildly hysterical laugh.
I had the right to be hysterical, though. I’d just died and gotten put back in prison again in less than three minutes! The worst prison in the world too, I might add. Suddenly I wondered if the Dementors would be able to get at my soul even more easily now that I had no body to shelter within.
Drifting closer to my husband I tried to touch his arm, but my hand only passed right through it.
“I can’t believe she killed me, Roddy,” I began angrily.
“How did that bloody happen? It’s impossible…I mean she’s her and I’m me, so I don’t understand!”
Rod silently shook his head, as baffled as I.
My mind kept returning to the disturbing sight of my dead body. Even my hair had somehow looked different, so full and wild to be attached to a corpse.
It just looked wrong!
“It isn’t fair, Roddy,” I burst out.
“And really it should have been impossible.”
“It made no sense, truly. At least we’re still together, though.”
“But like this? It just isn’t fair!”
I shrieked at the injustice of it…And he was shaking me. Why couldn’t he just allow me to be upset? I had the right, after all. But wait…How was he able to shake me when I was a ghost?
“Bella! For gods sake, wake up! You’re screaming again.”
I forced my eyes open to stare into my husband’s sleepy yet still alert face. From the way the light in the room looked, it was a little after daylight, therefore far too early to be awake. It had only been a dream, I realized with a feeling of overwhelming and immense relief. A dream, wasn’t exactly a fair word. For the past thirty or so years, all my dreams were nightmares. Nightmares before Azkaban, though I could no longer remember what those were about, nightmares in Azkaban, about Dementors getting my soul, and now nightmares about Molly Bloody Weasley killing me? I felt a mad laugh bubbling up at the rediculousness of that.
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