It Was Just a Nightmare
Samantha fixed her very basic black dress uncomfortably as she heard the click of cameras. It was an itchy dress and she realized just how spoiled she was to Augury feathers. It wasn't a dress made by her mother, she'd bought it from a muggle store to have a more simple look. She had paired it with a simple black suit jacket that her mother had made for her.
Samantha would rather be anywhere else at this moment. She wanted to run away back to her apartment and throw her blanket back over her head. Her hands were shaking intensely, why did they have to be shaking today of all days? She didn't want the world to see her shake, how embarrassing would that be? It would make her look under qualified and broken.
Kingsley was addressing the Ministry and Cuffe was to speak next. He looked how Samantha was supposed to. He was stately and put together. Samantha felt like she was young and inexperienced, like she wasn't ready to put on that notable mask.
"You alright dear?" Gerta, her assistant asked as Samantha continued shaking. She fixed her hair, tucking a curl back into the low bun at the back of her head.
"Of course." Samantha lied but felt the blood leave her face. She pulled her hands behind her back. No one should see her break. She had to pretend she was fine, she had to show everyone this was what she wanted.
"I'd be a nervous wreck." Gerta admitted before helping Samantha fix her suit jacket and the little gold medal that was pinned to it jingled. "But don't worry too much. I've heard you practice enough times, you will be great!"
She could hear Cuffe begin speaking and she felt her stomach jolt. She could taste bile on her tongue. He was talking about the Daily Prophet leaving the troubled past behind it and making strides towards a better future.
"So, as we look to the future of this respected establishment, we also look to new blood to carry us into the twenty-first century. For sometime, I have been considering retirement, but I made it a point not to appoint one until I found someone truly worthy."
He looked back to Samantha who was behind a curtain. "Someone who has not only proven a range of merit on the page, but also off the page, in times of crisis. A member of the Order of The Pheonix, Dumbledore's Army and the highly respected radio program Potterwatch. Her accolades include the Order Of Merlin, Third Class and The Distinguished Witch Or Wizard In Writing for the years 1999 and 2000. She's spent three years under my tutelage and I believe she will be the youngest Editor-In-Chief in the Daily Prophet's long history."
Samantha felt a push on her back, Gerta had pushed her to the stairs leading to the little platform.
"Introducing, The new Editor-In-Chief of the Daily Prophet, Miss Samantha Ayinthine Fyre." Samantha tried ignoring the fact he said her middle name wrong and stepped forward to shake hands first with Kingsley, and then with Cuffe who stepped aside from the podium.
She smiled nervously and looked out to the crowd of people. She put on a smile and pretended she wasn't about to fall over.
"Hello." She said strongly, looking at the paper in her hand. She couldn't falter, she couldn't show her fear. "Thank you Mr. Cuffe, for that lovely introduction."
Her heart jumped into her throat as she saw her mother. Her mother stood beside Professor McGonagall who also smiled in a composed way. Lee was also in the crowd with everyone from the WWN. She had wanted her father there, but he wasn't allowed as a muggle, to attend.
She looked at the paper in front of her and suddenly felt like she was a first year student struggling to understand her Herbology homework. She wasn't qualified for this job, she wasn't good enough, she was only twenty-one. She just learned how to pay her own bills a few years ago. She wasn't ready to balance an entire company.
She had a feeling Cuffe wanted to see her fail. That had to be the reason he was retiring early. He had been nothing but hostile during the three years she'd worked under him. He constantly insisted a little girl like her couldn't handle a big man's job. She had pushed herself day in and day out to prove him wrong. She worked harder than she'd worked on anything before.
She kept her hands behind her back as she began her address. They were aggressively shaking and she couldn't stop them at all. She couldn't see the paper she was shaking so much. She spoke from memory as best she could, getting through each word and pretending she meant them. The crowd began clapping as she finished and she felt like dying.
People came to greet her afterwards and congratulated her. She shook hands with plethora of people, she recognized quite a few faces. All beaming with pride at her. If only they knew she was unhappy. If she could just open her mouth, but it all felt like it was too late. The damage was done, and she was stuck. She was trapped in a nightmare of her own making
One face in particular fortified her desperate terror. It reminded her of everything she'd given up so far and what she was continuing to ignore.
"I told you, you could do it." Neville said, smiling nervously at her. "Not that anyone doubted that. You've got what you always wanted."
Samantha nodded, wanting to run away as fast as she could. She crossed her arms behind her back again. She couldn't find words to respond. This wasn't what she wanted anymore.
"I'm happy for you." He said and her heart was in her throat.
"I'll see you at Gin's wedding right?" She asked trying to find some way to talk to him.
Neville nodded, "Yeah, Hannah and I will be there of course. Well, they've got me ushering. Harry says you are in it too."
"Yeah, I'm a bridesmaid." Samantha nodded and grimaced a little, "I feel bad, I'll probably have to leave early. Can't miss deadlines during the first week."
"Well, it'll be good to see you again." He nodded before continuing out of the line.
She watched him leave and hated herself for never meeting with him at the Hogshead.
Samantha continued shaking hands and greeting people until her hands were sore.
That night, she returned to her cold apartment alone. She opened a small can of soup and finished a bottle of White Rat Whiskey alone. She'd been offered a celebration dinner by her new staff at the Leaky Cauldron. She turned it down since her first day of real work was the next day, she'd better go home.
Artie rolled at her feet as she opened a new bottle of Whiskey and placed it on her end table. She knew it wouldn't make her forget, but she hoped it would make her sleep.
Samantha laid on her bed, and found herself overwhelmed by pain. It wasn't like a stinging jinx, it wasn't like an illness, it was just pain. It was just overwhelming pain, like small needles in her body and in her heart. She looked at the medal on her end table. She didn't deserve that medal. She didn't deserve her accolades, she was just a kid who did what she could to survive. She was just a kid who was desperate to let her family know what she'd felt. Now her article felt dirty.
She wasn't ready for tomorrow. She wanted to be a normal person her age. She didn't want to spend her days proof reading, she wanted to spend her days writing. She didn't want to spend her days in some stuffy office in Diagon Alley, she wanted to be traveling the world.
She didn't want to be leaving Ginny's wedding early. She didn't want to be missing out on Hermione's hen night in two months. She didn't want to turn down Luna for tea every time she asked. She didn't want the only time she saw Lee to be at a business lunch once a week. She wanted to be with her friends.
She didn't want to be laying alone in her bed, she wanted- she cursed at herself for even starting that thought. She'd messed that up, there was never going to be a chance now. No one could be happy with her, she had too much pressure now. How could she manage a relationship? How could she manage a serious one? She couldn't get married realistically and she couldn't manage children someday.
She flipped over onto her side and looked at the photograph of her family beside her bed. It was from a trip to America when she was just a child, they were on a beach and they were smiling from ear to ear. She remembered the roar of the ocean and the smell of the salt in the air. That trip had been the best one of her life, and she longed for the simple days.
She wanted one thing above all the others. She wanted her family back together, she wanted that more than anything. Her parents were proud of her, but she could see the pain behind their eyes. Her family was broken and Samantha had something not many others had. She had an opportunity to get her brother back, she could have her family again.
Samantha closed her eyes and laid back into her bed. She allowed herself to dream of something better. She allowed herself to dream of what life could be like after she brought her brother home.
She opened her eyes and looked over to her pocket watch sitting on the edge of the four poster bed. It was four am. She was surprised to find herself in a different room, the sounds of the countryside and not the sounds of Diagon Alley filled the room. She could smell the heat of summer outside the window. Duke the dragon was curled in her arms. Artie was above her head. Luna was laying beside her in an odd position. Her cheek laid against her folder like a pillow and she was above the blankets.
It took Samantha a moment to remember exactly where she was.
Samantha rubbed her eyes, the sleeping draft she'd taken obviously wasn't long lasting.
She pulled herself out of bed and put her feet onto the cold hardwood floor and let her toes play beneath her.
She sighed a breath of relief, it had been nothing but an exaggerated memory. It was just a bad dream. She'd never have to feel like that again. She pulled her robe over her shoulders, it was cold for an August evening. She went to the other side of the bed and tucked Luna in. She'd insisted on staying with her.
Samantha looked over to the big arm chair in the room where Luna's dress was in a garment bag. Samantha looked over to the closet where a larger garment bag hung. She took a deep breathe remembering what tomorrow was.
Samantha tip toed from her room. She going to see if there was more sleeping draft because she was sure if she didn't take some, she wouldn't sleep. Tomorrow was a big day after all and her heart beat like crazy just thinking about it.
She wasn't the only one awake as she opened the door, she saw Neville coming up the stairs with what seemed to be a glass of sleeping draft.
"You too?" He asked smiling and looking her over.
"Yeah, bad dream." She leaned in the doorway and crossed her arms.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He nodded.
She shook her head. "What about you?"
"I'm just nervous about tomorrow." He smirked, "Not that I'm nervous about you and I, just the actual day really."
"I get that."
Wanna share?" He lifted the glass of draft and offered.
"You didn't brew that right?"
He shook his head.
"Then yes." She chuckled.
The two made their way up to his room and shared what was left of the sleeping draft. They grabbed pillows and a blanket off of his bed. They crawled beneath the bed, and held each other. The little twinkling stars casted shadows across their faces.
He played with the hair falling in her face. "Better?"
"Yes, it was just a nightmare anyway." She whispered back softly. "Now we both just need that draft to work. We need to distract our minds or something."
"Can I ask you something?" He asked. "And it's a ridiculous question so you don't have to answer."
"Of course. After tomorrow, we really shouldn't have any secrets anyway."
He kissed her forehead, "When did you start having feelings for me?"
Samantha laughed, "I thought it was obvious, because of my lack of a poker face."
"I mean, yes, but humor me."
"Well, I always thought you were very brave. And I'm pretty sure I'd had feelings for you since before that," She smiled, "but, I think it was after Slughorn's party that I realized."
"I knew it." He laughed.
She rolled her eyes. "I only asked you to go with me because I thought I'd be safe from romance."
He continued laughing. "Luna's right, for a journalist, you are oblivious."
They laid silently for a moment and the stars seemed to dim slightly.
"Do you think this is bad luck?" He asked, his eyelids drooping.
"Why would it be?" Samantha asked with a yawn.
"It's our wedding day, we aren't supposed to see each other."
"Eh, we've had enough bad luck in our lives, that I think the universe owes us." She whispered starting to feel the sleeping draught begin to work and listening to his heartbeat.
Samantha felt a yawn escape her mouth.
"Do you know when I knew I loved you?" He asked and she could hear exhaustion in his voice.
"No."
"I saw you, in the crowd that day." He revealed. "I thought I was about to die, but at least I got to see you one more time."
Samantha wished the draft wasn't working. Under normal circumstances her heart would have beat out of her chest. She felt a few tears roll down her face.
"Professor McGonagall was holding you back, I was so relieved she had you, you were safe with her of course."
Samantha remembered all too well.
"If we ever change our minds and have kids," He started and she could hear his breath slow down. "I want our first daughter to be named after McGonagall, do you mind?"
"Minnie would be a nice first name, with a good old fashioned Gaelic middle name. It's a tradition in my family." Samantha was just sleepy enough to respond.
"Of course." He kissed her forehead.
Her eyes slammed shut and she fell asleep, dreaming about a little girl with her mother's ambition and her father's bravery.