0.27 - A Wizard's Guide to Pop Culture (Part 3)
“Bloody fucking hell!”
“Harry!”
Rebecca and Celestine yelled as Harry’s unconscious body began its descent. Fortunately, with Dumbledore’s wand, he managed to slow his fall.
Celestine, immediately ran down to the Quidditch Pitch, worried for her cousin. She knelt next to his body, glad that he wasn’t hurt. But fuck, she glanced what was above and saw those Dementors once more.
“Move aside!” Dumbledore’s voice was heard through the bustling crowd as they began to circle around Harry, right after the Gryffindor Quidditch team, “Is he alright?”
“No injuries, Professor.” Celestine shook her head, letting the Headmaster magic Harry onto a stretcher towards the infirmary room in the castle, to which she followed as she carried some guilt.
As Harry was being tended to by Madame Pomfrey, Celestine caught up with Dumbledore, wanting to have a talk with him.
“Professor, professor,” Celestine stopped in the middle of the hallway, where the old man was, “I think it’s my fault.”
Dumbledore turned around and shook his head, “Celestine, what happened earlier is not your fault: it was mine, for letting the Dementors step into this castle. The only reason the creatures are here is because Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban. So, my dear child, you do not have to feel guilty about it.”
“I just…” Celestine scratched her fingers, “I think it’s no coincidence that these are happening while I’m new here.”
“Do not worry, we had a Basilisk slither around these walls last year, and had a two-faced Professor in the DADA position the year before that,” Dumbledore chuckled, “I need to go, but in the meantime, talk and spend more time with your cousin.”
“Yes, Professor,” Celestine nodded as he left the hallway, and she headed back to the Infirmary, seeing Harry awake, and surrounded by his Quidditch team and Professor McGonagall.
Guess I can spend time with him when he’s all better, the girl thought, and left, heading to the Ravenclaw tower until a snaky voice was heard through the walls, as if attempting to manipulate her;
Under the gaze of the fallen star,
One shall land where the nameless are.
A path once known will twist and break,
As the night devours what fate will take.
A bond undone, a name erased,
Lost to the dark in death’s embrace.
No hand may turn, no voice may call,
The self once known shall shatter and fall.
Yet from the ruin, a shadow will rise,
Worn in the flesh, but unknown inside.
For light and dark are threads intertwined,
One lost, one found, but never aligned.
“What the fuck are the ghosts on now?” Celestine scoffed and continued to walk to the Ravenclaw tower, not knowing that her journey to hell had just begun.