Letters I Can't Send

Y/n's POV

I'm being dragged into his empty classroom, Snape following behind silently. When we reach his room, Snape pulls him aside to have a word with his fellow professor. I can't hear exactly what they talked about, but I heard one sentence from Snape: "don't hurt the girl, Alastor."

Then he leaves.

"Well," he says, his voice gruff, as always. "sit down."

Then I'm sitting but I don't remember finding a chair and sitting in it.

"Have you heard of Occlumency?" he asks me and I shake my head. "This is not Occlumency."

I don't ask what Occlumency is. I don't say anything, because he only confused me with his words.

"Tell me everything that happened when you found yourself unconscious," he orders.

I hesitate, uncomfortable with his demands and the way he is staring at me intently, like he's about to pounce at me for information. "I...I was just watching the tournament and then I felt a sharp pain in my head. Then I just...fell over," I say. He nods to himself, grunting.

Then he pulls out a small, oddly shaped flask and downs its contents in one gulp.

After he finishes wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he says, "You will learn control."

"Do we even know I'm psychic? I mean, we can't be sure, right?" I say frantically.

Moody has I back to me now, and I'm anxious for his next move. "There's only one way to find out," he says, and I'm about ask how, about to protest to whatever he'd end up saying, but then I feel the same pang in my head.

__________

"Archie!" I hear an excited voice say. The voice belongs to a young boy—maybe 11 years old.

I see a pool and a diving board. I see two boys in their swim trunks. One bigger than the other. The smaller one has dirty blonde hair and the taller one has dark brown curls atop his head.

"Jump! Jump!" the smaller boy chanted as the taller boy climbed up the platform of the diving board.

What is curious to me in this moment, is that I seem to be watching from a doorway. I see the doorframe in my peripheral, and I'm watching the scene unfold from the eyes of another, who seems to be spying, if I'm correct.

The little boy's back is facing me and watch the older boy spring off the diving board and into the pool, splashing the younger boy, who is laughing hysterically.

Just in that moment, the moment of pure joy, is when I surge forward, rage surging through my veins. I charge and grab the smaller boy's arm. "Bartemius," I say sternly, a man's angry voice vibrates in my chest.

The Bartemius boy looks up me, his eyes terrified. He looks at me such fear, such woe...but my grip tightens on his arm and my voice raises. "What were you thinking?!" I yell. "How in the name of Merlin did you get here?!" Bartemius doesn't say a word, just stares at his feet. "I though I told you not to visit your friends over the holidays," I say in a low, menacing voice. I spit out the word "friend" like it's not true, like it's something fake, that never has and never will exist.

"I—I'm sor—" the boy begins.

"I know you're sorry," I seethe out through my teeth. "Just come along. You won't being seeing this fellow again. Put your damn shirt on."

I watch the boy as he scrambles to slip the shirt over his head and hurry back over to me. I grab his arm again and tug him back through the unfamiliar house. I see the parents of the older boy in the kitchen, petrified looks on their faces as I storm through their home. But it feels like sweet, sweet power.

__________

Then I'm gasping and sitting up in the wooden chair in Professor's Moody's empty classroom.

He rushes to me. "What did you see? What was it that you saw?" he asks earnestly.

I'm still catching my breath what I saw, and coming back to reality. It's very new, really. "I saw two boys—" I gasp. "Swimming—his dad came and took him away—" then I'm wondering why I'm not bewitched like the first time.

But Moody speaks before I get a chance to voice my concerns. "Miss Ellis."

I look at him, catching my breath, my fingers digging into the wooden armchair I sit in.

"Try speaking in full sentences when you are attempting to recall a vision," He suggests and it angers me.

"I told you what I saw, Professor. I said I saw two boys swimming, one older and one younger, and then I came and took the younger boy away." I look at him with an intensity in which I use to decipher his emotions. He has this look in the lines of his face that tells me he's trying to cover something up. He looks as if he knows of what I am speaking about. Like he can recall the vision himself. That is what sparks curiosity in me.

I open my mouth to speak again but I'm jolted back again, like being shot through worlds and dimensions, through time and space to land in one moment—whether it has already happened, or not.

__________

I'm sitting at a small, round table. A lovely woman sits across from me, she wears a white apron over her faded sky blue dress.

At first, the sounds around me are muffled and everything is blurred except for the women in front of me. Then, I hear her voice, our voices, having a conversation.

It looks like we're in a café—it's low ceiling and comfy furniture make for a humble place to have a cup of tea and a muffin. I know immediately that it's Mandrake Mak's Café and Coffeehouse. I know because my father and I would always make fun of the long name, then mother would scold us, saying that she used to work there and that Mandrake Mak was a wonderful, kind man.

When I come back to the present, the woman in front of me doesn't just look like a pretty lady anymore. She is, no doubt about it, a younger version of my mother.

I'm fiddling with my fingers in my lap, looking at her with a passion I can only begin to understand—but not fully.

"You were close to him," she says.

I let my cold hands wrap around the warm mug of tea. "He was like my little brother," I hear the unmistakable voice of my father saying the words.

My mother nods solemnly. "And now that he's in Azkaban...?" she starts softly.

A sigh escapes my chest. "Now that he's in Azkaban... I'm trying to forget about him. I don't know him anymore."

She nods again and I notice the small flower her fingers twiddle with. It's a small white lily. She strokes its soft petals gently and I can't help but remember her same tenderness she had with me.

Then her hand moves away from the lily and comes to grasp my own across the table. Her touch, just as gentle as ever, soothes me beyond her imagination. "Nothing could happen to you here. You've disappeared from London—it won't matter here, right?" she tries to reassure.

Another sigh from me and I say, "We can hope."

A voice calls from the busy counter of the café. "Andrea!" she looks up, letting go of my hand. "Break is over!"

Andy (my mum's nickname) looks at me, an empathetic look in her eyes as she stands and heads back to work.

I watch her leave, a yearning of my own for her, wishing for her not to go. But she does.

__________

..........

I'm receiving pieces to a puzzle, but the problem is that they don't fit together and some of them are mangled and broken, so it's difficult to even try to fit them together. I don't even know what the end result will be. The final picture that the pieces create. It confuses me far too much. But I think, as I fall into my bed, why Quinn said anything to the professors.

a/n: the ______ is when we are having a vision or wtv. I didn't do it the first time because it would've been confusing (if I'm being real, I didn't think of it till after our first lil vision thingy...lol)