Catastrophe In The Making (Hogwarts) A Journal For Those Voices [9]

“Of course it is necessary, wouldn’t you like all this to stop? Wouldn’t you like to just continue to live your years at Hogwarts normally? Doesn’t it cause you pain to hear those voices? Wouldn’t you like that to stop?” Professor Dumbledore inquired as I took a step back and shook my head.

“I can surely handle this on my own Professor. There is no need for me to take Occulumency lessons.”

“Why don’t you take the easier road and take the lessons? Surely the problem can be dealt with faster, and solved sooner.”

“I-I guess…but it would take so much of my time, and I’m so busy with Quidditch practises, homework, studying, and hanging with my friends. I don’t want it to get in the way of those things.”

“Of course not! Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, at eight o’ clock will be perfect. We’ll see how your progress goes, and the better you do the faster you get out of taking the lessons. I’ll inform Professor Snape and Professor Lupin at once.”

“Professor, uh…was there anything more that you heard from my Professors?” I asked as I looked down at my feet nervously. I wanted to know if he knew about my mother, and if he was going to speak to her about it.

“About your mother my dear? If you’d like me to have a talk with her…”

“No! It’s nothing really; I’d like all of this to just be kept private in the likes of my space.”

“Very well then, you may head back,” He said. “Before you go Miss La Valle, if it isn’t so much of a hassle, Professor Snape and I would like you to write down in this journal of what the voices said, hear, what you see, involving anything of such. If you miss a day or so I understand.”

“O-Of course.”

I left feeling shaken and cold. I went back to my dorm, gathered all my Quidditch stuff and brought the journal too. I noticed that Derrick had probably gotten one of the girls to bring in my broom. I made my way to the Quidditch pitch to attend practise. I was way too early, but figured that I’d just wait. I lay down on the grass, journal in front of me and a quill and ink to my right. I began to write:

September 15th,

The first time I heard the voices, I was walking down in the dungeons. It wasn’t painful, but it was definitely loud enough to hurt my head. In exact words were they said: “Kill, kill, kill, kill!” In a wailing voice. “Murder they’ll see and evil plan is what we see. Use he will, to get what he wants. He wants him dead and you’ll kill, kill, kill, kill.”

The second time I heard voices, not talking directly at me. As in I could hear someone’s conversation inside my head. But they were talking about me.

“She’ll be perfect, he won’t see it coming! This is what you want! My son has told me everything!” A mans voice, someone I don’t know whose.

“Very well then, if she fails, punishment will be exceeded on your loved ones.” This was one creepy voice, dark, and scary. He wasn’t talking to the man I think, because I don’t know the man. If he was saying “punishment to your loved ones” I wouldn’t be one of those loved ones.

“She’s perfect for the job, she has no choice. I’ll notify her on this, you will have your revenge my Lord.” The voice was familiar to me, but I can’t put my finger on it. A woman for sure, but who I don’t know. But she’s going to be the one to “inform” me about everything. I figured I would be able to say no to whatever this is, but she says I’ll do it because I have to. So...why on earth would I HAVE to?

And the voice from the first time, screaming MURDER THEY WROTE, REVENGE WE SEE! All through this the pain was unbearable, agonizing, like my head was going to explode. I remember wanting to faint. I was eating with Hermione, Ron, Harry, Oliver, Fred, George, and Hermione at the Gryffindor table.

The third time, it was a dream, but I vaguely remember anything. In the end of it, I was stabbed. I woke up after that, it was the day I woke up from a Quidditch try out incident. All I knew was that it was dark, and a hooded figure stabbed me.

“La Valle,” a voice hollered from, behind me. I shut the journal and stuffed it in my book bag, I knew that voice, and that voice was not so welcoming or charming. “What are you doing just laying there on the Quidditch pitch?”

“Waiting for you guys, duh. You think I’d start practise without the team?” I seethed as I poked him in the chest.

“Show me what you were doing,” He ordered as he grabbed for the bag.

“You make it sound like you call the orders around here. But your not the Captain, am I right?” I smirked and nodded at Flint, the Captain. It went silent and Malfoy glared at me. Practise began, it wasn’t as hard as yesterday, but it was close to that.

I was sitting in the Slytherin common room reading a muggle book that James my servant back home had gave to my mother to send me. It was really intriguing, I never wanted to stop, but I was so rudely interrupted by Malfoy, with his two followers Crabbe and Goyle behind him. I realized that it was late, everyone was in bed, and Malfoy and his goons were the only ones in the common room with me.

I had a wonderful supper with Gryffindor; as usual there was lots of laughing. I didn’t speak to Oliver though; Hermione noticed and realized that what she told me did have an impact. Oliver didn’t say much, nothing at all to my face. Everything was alright between Hermione and Oliver though, but I could tell in her eyes that she still was kind of mad. I wondered if it was only because she noticed the way I was acting around him, as if feeling a little concerned for me.

“You still haven’t shown me what you were writing in at Quidditch practise today,” He said flatly, eyeing my school bag by my feet. If any of them attempted to grab it, their face would come in contact with my foot. “Show me it, or I’ll get it myself.”

“It’s none of your business really, between me and Professor Dumbledore, and two other Professors. Is your name in there? No, so get lost.”

“Let him see it,” Crabbe puffed as he crossed his arms with Goyle.

“You and your goons don’t scare me at all if that’s what you’re playing at.”

“I bet your lame Gryffindor friends know about it, huh? If they can see it, I can too. Pass it over!” He demanded as he went to grab the tote bag. Instantly my wand flicked out and the bag flew up high in the air just by the utter of words I spoke.

“Your lucky Draco Malfoy, I was contemplating having your face smashed by my foot.” I laughed as I placed the bag around my shoulder as I stood up. “And what’s your problem with these Gryffindor? I mean there’s nothing wrong with them, are you mad that they’re more liked than you?”

He jumped me, and we landed on the leather couch as he sneered on top of me. I could feel his breath on my face, and see the anger that flashed in his eyes. He held me by the collar, and frozen in terror I lay there beneath him.

“Look La Valle, I’m giving you a last warning, if you don’t stop hanging out with those Gryffindor’s your gonna be in big trouble. And not just by your mother when I tell her if you don’t stop. It’s better if you just ditch them,” He snapped, his mouth inches from mine. But there was nothing passionate about it; it was more like fear looking at those pearly whites shouting at me.

“I’d rather be punished than ditch them. There my friends, get some real ones and you’ll know how I feel,” I growled. He grabbed me by the arms and tightened his grip. I winced and shut my mouth willing myself to shut up.

“Draco...you’re hurting me,” I stammered as I looked into his eyes. He only tightened his grip as if not hearing me, as if he only heard a smart remark. “Draco!”

“Draco...” I heard Crabbe and Goyle mutter as they inched closer, worried.

“Then I’ll have a nice chat with your mother during your little Halloween party this October.” He glowered down at me, and threw me off the couch. I fell to a thud, and sat up rubbing my arms.

“Don’t forget to dress up. Are you considering dressing up as a clown?” I choked out as I grabbed my book. I made my way quickly to the girl’s dorm stairway, only to see him walking towards me. “Uh-uh –uh! No boys allowed, it’s the rules.”

“I mean it La Valle! Stay away from them!” He barked as I continued up the steps.

“Kiss my ass Draco Malfoy,” I retorted as I made my way to my dorm.

I didn’t want to fall asleep and dream, but if I did I’d have to pay pretty darn good attention, because if it had anything to do with the voices in my head I had to write it down the next morning. As long as my dreams didn’t bring me pain, I was totally fine.