𝕄𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕

The world around her was hazy as if engrossed in a dense fog. Sekhmet felt as though she were wrapped in cotton, her skin numb yet exceedingly itchy. The air around her chilled and was surrounded by a damp humidity. Two men stood facing one another. Each of their hands held out, palms facing the air. They both appeared to be young men, around Sekhmet’s own age if she had to guess, and they stood out in a forest that she couldn’t recognize.

One boy had curly blonde hair and looked almost hauntingly familiar, though she couldn’t quite place his face. She felt as though she’d met the boy before, his name on the very tip of her tongue. He looked distinctly Western European if Sekhmet had to guess. He carried himself with undisputed confidence. The man’s bright blue eyes told Sekhmet that he had a quiet wisdom. They twinkled with something close to merriment, as though he found the situation amusing— as if he knew something everyone else didn’t.

Despite Wizards usually adhering to old fashions Sekhmet would wager a fair amount that this event before her hadn’t taken place recently. She knew seers could get glimpses of the future, but she hadn’t been aware that she would be able to see the past as well. Sekhmet was confused and running through the possibilities in her mind when her attention was pulled away by the other male.

This man looked around the same age as the former, but his eyes— his eyes were what caught her attention. The man had one distinctly brown eye and another that looked eerily pale. It appeared to be a light greyish blue that contrasted majorly with his other eye color. He too had blonde curly hair, though he was noticeably lighter than the other man’s.

His sharp features were immediately recognizable to Sekhmet and she knew that he must have been from somewhere in Eastern Europe. What truly took her breath away though was how similar he looked to her mother. Addette Morozov had died when Sekhmet was young but she would know her mother’s face anywhere. The man’s countenance looked startlingly familiar, nearly identical to that of her late mother’s. Sekhmet had never met her dedushka, but she somehow knew that it was him. She could feel the cool Russian air moving through her hair, could taste the Khvorost her mother used to make, and could hear the Russian bedtime stories whispered in her ears. Her breathing hitched in anticipation. She didn’t know anything about this man, yet here she was seeing his past in real-time. Her chest tightened— how was she even supposed to feel right now? And what the hell was going on?

Just then a glint of unmistakable red crossed her vision. The two men had cuts on their palms, blood dripping down their hands in rivulets. They stared into one another eyes, a tension between them that was palpable enough for Sekhmet to distinguish that the two men were much more than friends. The forest around them went quiet as they brought their hands up to one another, connecting their palms to bind one another by blood. Their eyes closed the strain of the ritual apparent in their features. Their breathing grew heavy and laborious as a drop of their combined blood turned silver and started floating above them in the air to form a blood pact. The air around them hummed, the wind surrounding them picking up. The silver vial and blue-red liquid in the glass was something Sekhmet immediately recognized. Blood pacts were considered dark magic and were almost entirely a thing of the past. They required ancestral energy and power to endure, so how in Merlin did these two blokes manage it?

She felt her blood thrumming through her veins, heating with the close proximity to ancestral magic being used by her dedushka. As the pact settled she could feel her chest get heavier, the ritual complete. She could taste the iron in the air from the shared blood pact and could sense that her beating heart had changed its rhythm to fall in time with that of her grandfather.

Sekhmet knew that the men must have cared for each other a lot considering that they had just made a pact that would kill them if they ever tried to harm one another. What was this vision supposed to mean? Her dedushka had made a blood pact with someone, but who? And why was it relevant? Did she somehow know the other person? Sekhmet was getting sick and tired of these visions and their off-subliminal messages. All she wanted to do was get through her life unscathed, or at the very least happy with her friends. She knew the chances of that happening weren’t high but never once did she think she’d be this utterly screwed. She never thought that she’d be fighting with the past. That it’d be biting and clawing its way into her skin to grasp onto the threads of her unsteady future.

She knew what her future held. Despite her parents and friends trying to hide it from her she wasn’t naive. She knew what was to come— arguably better than the rest of them. War, bloodshed, death, and unspeakable horrors were to come. And Sekhmet Arafa had the pleasure and burden of witnessing every one of them.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

“Looks like Sleeping Beauty’s awake!” Chimed a loud voice from Sekhmet’s side, making her head pound in irritation.

That alone was a dead giveaway that the person talking was Evan Rosier. Sekhmet loved the boy to bits but if there was one thing he struggled with it was keeping his volume low. Sekhmet opened her eyes, the blinding light of the Hospital Wing flooding in and causing her to squint. She winced as her pounding headache worsened at the unwelcome intrusion of intense brightness. Merlin, she hated the after-effects of these visions.

“Evan, please. Would you shut up for 10 seconds,” Sekhmet whined, her voice cracking slightly from disuse as she rubbed her temples, “Merlin…”

“Sorry Sekh, you know how he is” the unmistakable voice of Barty Crouch Jr. whispered next to her in sympathy.

Sekhmet eyes opened fully now, the light more bearable once she adjusted. She sat up in her bed, the hard mattress of the Hospital Wing making her groan. She swayed some at the sudden wave of dizziness that overcame her, but it was over as soon as it started. As she looked around at her surroundings she noticed that Pandora sat next to her other side, and she seemed to be crocheting a sweater of sorts. Dorcas leaned against Sekhmet’s bed and was glaring at someone in the corner, her head motioned outward as if to say “Get over yourself and talk to him”.

Sekhmet glanced over to where Dorcas was staring when she saw Regulus. He leaned against the door of the Hospital Wing like he was itching to leave but her wellbeing meant more. His arms were crossed and his silver eyes moved to hers. Regulus’ pursed lips and narrowed eyes told her of his concern when his voice twinkled in her head.

“You okay?” Regulus’ voice echoed in her mind.

“Yeah of course… it’s just— there’s something I need to talk to you about later” Sekhmet conveyed, her eyes moving to observe the rest of the room further as if there was nothing amiss.

She noticed Regulus nod in the corner of her eye when she saw what had been bothering him. Right across from her bed was Remus Lupin, James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew. Remus was lying in his own hospital bed, the blanket over his chest covering what were surely scars from past transformations. Sirius stood at his side and glared at Sekhmet’s whole friend group in obvious distaste. Remus elbowed him, causing his glare to transform into a yelp as Remus raised his brows to scold him for a single look. It was then that Evan broke the silence, never one to keep quiet for long.

“Yeah, these gits have been here since this morning. Black over there has been glaring at Reg the whole bloody time,” Evan explains nonchalantly, as if the situation were totally normal and it was a usual occurrence for two estranged brothers to stare daggers into one another’s soul.

“Right…” Sekhmet replied not quite sure what to make of the situation, “How long have I been out exactly?”

“Just a day. You passed out at the game and you’ve been here in the Hospital Wing since last night,” Regulus told Sekhmet, walking closer to her bedside protectively once Sirius's gaze moved to her instead.

“Did that bloody dark magic finally get to you Arafa? Did daddy decide to get rid of your burdensome arse? Or has justice finally caught up and decided that you weren’t worth saving?” Sirius snidely commented, his tone venomous as he spat the words.

The entire room went silent. Everyone looked in anticipation between the two purebloods who looked as though they were ready to lash out on one another. Sirius took a step toward Sekhmet, Regulus moving forward to meet him eye to eye. The clash of silver on silver fury had everyone holding their breath. That’s when Regulus spoke, his tone sending a chill down their spines.

“You don’t get to speak to her like that. Like you’re any better than us. You lost that privilege the minute you walked out that door and left me in that house. Alone.” Regulus said calmly, his voice full of hardly concealed fury and hurt.

He looked like a pipe ready to burst, his wand coming to his hand so flawlessly that none of them had realized what he’d done. Regulus’ grey eyes looked into those of his brother— the tension between them enough for even the smallest troll to sense.

“How about we don’t fight in the Hospital Wing yeah?” James spoke up, all eyes moving to him, “Or maybe— hear me out— we don’t fight at all! That seems like a wonderful idea”

James’ peppy tone only served to anger the brothers further. Sekhmet decided she’d had enough and with a big sigh lugged herself out of the bed and stepped between the two. Her face was calm, but in a way that told them she wasn’t dealing with their nonsense. Regulus and Sirius were still glaring daggers at one another when Sekhmet moved her hands up to grab both of them by the back of the neck. She tugged down their tall forms, both the boys wincing from the action, though thoroughly chastised if she had to guess by their embarrassed faces. She walked them over to two chairs at the entrance of the Hospital wing and shoved each of them down.

“You,” she started on Sirius who stood at attention as Sekhmet pointed her finger right at his chest.

“I’ve known you since you were 6. Your threats don’t scare me and neither do you. I have been civil and friendly with the rest of your friends and was hoping to go through this all calmly. But, if you plan on being a complete arse I am under no obligation to help any of them,” Sekhmet said sternly, “Contrary to what you probably believe, I try my best to be kind to those who are deserving of it. So, despite my growing appreciation for your boyfriend, I will not hesitate to hex you two ways to Tuesday if you continue to disrespect my friends. I don’t give a damn about what you have to say to me Black, but I will not let you slander them just because of your fragile ego.”

Sirius paled then nodded slightly at the witch. He had tensed up when Sekhmet had called Remus his boyfriend but after seeing how she didn’t make any scathing remarks on that front he had decided not to draw any attention to it. His eyes softened in regret for his actions as he twiddled his thumbs messing with his rings. Regulus smirked in triumph off to his side, undoubtedly amused by his brother getting scolded by a girl who was a whole two heads shorter than him and his very own best friend. At least, he was chuckling until her fiery gaze moved to him. Regulus felt himself go rigid, his eyes wide. Somehow the Hospital Wing felt significantly quieter and closed off than usual.

“You. You do not need to fight on my behalf. I am perfectly capable of defending myself from git’s like Sirius on my own. And for the love of Ra Reg, don’t use me as an excuse to pick a fight with your estranged brother. I will stand by your side through hellfire and torture, but I will not be the person you use to justify actions you will grow to regret.” Sekhmet spoke, looking into Regulus’ eyes to convey her feelings of disappointment toward him.

Regulus shifted his eyes down in shame. His mouth opened as if to retort back.

“I didn’t— I wasn’t trying to use you to justify-“

“Yes. You were. And you know damn well that I won’t have it. I know you Reg, and I would do anything for you but I refuse to be the shield you use to hide from your true emotions.” Sekhmet interrupted him, her voice showing her exasperation and care toward Regulus.

“Well… I want to leave. I shall see you all once everyone has calmed down,” Sekhmet said with finality, walking out of the Hospital Wing after wandlessly casting an Accio charm to get her wand and charm her clothes back so she was out of that horrid hospital gown.

As she walked to the door, everyone in the room stared at her, Sekhmet remembered something. She turned around quickly, a gentle smile was on her face as she looked toward Remus. She could hear Dorcas snort at her sudden change of demeanor.

“Remus, did everything go well? You know with the advice I gave you and everything.” Sekhmet asked, her tone much softer than it had been only minutes before.

Remus looked at her warily, then glanced over to her friends to which Pandora responded with a shrug of her shoulders and a fond smile as her hands continued to crochet. Remus looked confused but brought his attention back to Sekhmet have deemed this behavior as normal.

“Yeah… yeah everything went fine. Thank you by the way,” Remus said, his features easing in gratitude.

Sekhmet smiled. She was happy her potion had helped alleviate his pain.

“Well— I’m glad.”

She walked out of the Hospital Wing, a spring his her step. The rest of them stood there speechless, staring as she strolled down the halls.