Half-Blood

Fifty years after Harry Potter destroyed Lord Voldemort, the biggest threat of the wizarding world, there was finally peace. Erela Harris, an awkward witch, starts her life off in Hogwarts to try and discover who she really is, all while struggling to fight her unknown destiny. Only when the time comes will she face the choice between what is right and what is easy.

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41. Alone

    Erela walked up the creaking steps of the Shrieking Shack as she loosened her scarf, feeling rather hot and nervous. It was silly to be nervous going into an abandoned house, there had been very few tales of hauntings. The worst that could happen was having a poltergeist like Peeves harass her during the night.

    Suddenly, she really hoped she would be alone in the so-called haunted house. The constant swaying and creaking of wood wouldn’t help at all. Erela shook her head and thought of other things that made her dare nothing compared to experiences. Fighting a werewolf . . . well, that was it. Keeping herself alive while keeping a raging werewolf away from the castle with Stacee.

    And immediately, she thought of Landon. The fluff of his hair, his brown eyes that glowed with a honey tint when he smiled, how gentle his kisses were—

    Stop it! Stop it!

    Erela shook her head and exhaled a breath when her heart felt as if someone stabbed their hand into her chest and gave her heart an aggressive squeeze. How unfair . . . Her emotions made her feel as if it were attacking her. Her mentality told her to get over him. Her emotions screamed that she still loved Landon.

    She swore if getting a job in the Ministry of Magic didn’t happen she would research deeper into why people had emotions and why it heavily influenced people’s thoughts and actions.

    The Hufflepuff girl entered the bedroom at the top floor and looked around the room for a clean spot. There was three inches of dust everywhere. Disgusting. Erela pursed her lips and looked toward the bed that had been broken for many decades, dust coated the wood and the sheets, and there was probably some bed bugs under the moth eaten sheets.

    Nothing was inviting.

    With a lift of her wound, the bed came to life and repaired itself. Dust fell and floated about with every movement, forming a cloud of grey and white. Erela backed away and flicked her wand, the sheets floated upward and flicked all the dust off. With a whirl of her wand, the dust cloud swirled into an orb of dirt and glided toward the window and threw the cracks of wood.

    When the sheets spread itself out on the bed, Erela took a seat on the bed and puffed her hair out of her eyes, staring down at her “Dark Arts” wand she had been warned would lead her down the wrong path if she made the wrong decision. The Hufflepuff girl let out a sigh and tried to distract herself with a happier thought. The werewolf boy came to mind again. His touch, his warmth, his kisses . . . God, why was he even attracted to her in the first place?

    Erela ran her fingers through her as she thought on it. He gave her a reason . . . that she was awkward. Landon mentioned there was more reasons but didn’t share the rest of that list. What else was there for him to date her? Twice, in fact. 

    As much as she wanted to stop thinking of Landon, she disliked how down she was. Erela pursed her lips and allowed her mind to go where it wished, no matter how hurt she felt in the process. She felt like curling in a ball and let her tears loose, the comforting romance forcing her chest to ache. When she opened her eyes, the warm light of her Patronus welcomed her. The owl stared at her from her leg it perched itself on and tilted its head at her. 

    The Hufflepuff girl smiled at the glowing animal, remembering the first time she could conjure it. And just like that first time, what helped bring her Patronus to life were the sweet and romantic memories of the werewolf boy . . .

    The owl’s glow began to fade away, marking the sadness that began to consume her before it completely disappeared and darkened the room. Erela didn’t realize how alone she felt. She looked toward an armchair in the corner of the room that looked so beaten up it wasn’t worth keeping it around. The girl lifted her wand and mumbled: “Reducto,” and blue light shot from the tip of her wand and blasted the chair into a pile of blackened ash.

    It was so easy . . . conjuring a curse. With charms like the Patronus took time and longer effort than needed. With curses, she would have made a successful conjuration with a try or two. Erela stared at her wand at how it squiggled ever so slightly from the middle of the wand to the very tip. Usually the wands made for evil were often curved from what she had researched on cults on Dark Lords. Wands that were made perfectly straight tended to be for the ones with a brighter future.

    There were . . . so many times that she wanted to stop fighting what her destiny was, whatever that may be. With what Ollivander had told her her first year, she was made out for darkness. With all her efforts in research how to avoid such a path, she threw herself in her studies. Especially Defense Against the Dark Arts . . . even if she were amazing in that class and she did end up becoming a minion or a Dark Lord . . . she could always use her knowledge on the class against the Ministry . . .

    She was tired . . . so tired. Of everything. Mentally, physically, and emotionally she was exhausted. Erela just wanted to curl in a ball and sleep forever, just to see what would happen after her long sleep.

    Although . . . it wasn’t like she ever thought about it. Just give up . . . and go with the flow that she was so afraid of. She always looked ahead with caution and missed everything of the present . . . in fact . . . maybe that was the reason why she and Landon kept breaking up. She was hardly ever in the present time and that might have been what frustrated Landon to begin with . . .

    She was never affectionate back because Erela didn’t see the now . . . 

    With a sigh, she laid down on the dusty bed and closed her eyes. Might as well take a nap, the food had really made her sleepy and depression tended to make one exhausted easily.

    And then she went out like a light. A different dream this time . . . she was running . . . from something. She looked back but couldn’t see what it was. All she could recognize was that she was afraid. There was a light in the darkness that broke through. That little speck of light came at her, broke through the air, and hit her in a flash of green.

    Erela gasped and shot out of bed in cold sweat, breathing heavily at her horrid nightmare. The lanky girl rubbed the goosebumps up and down her arms to calm the hairs that stood up, her body felt cold and trembled with fear, and hot tears ran down her cheeks. 

    Oh god . . . what the hell was that . . .?

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