1107 Early return on the Hogwarts Express Ⅱ

A loud swallow can be heard from Rowan, who is struggling to keep the rising sickly feeling in her stomach down. She knew this was the ability she gained from the most recent absorption of the death surge of magic. A valuable skill is gained, and an equally valued trait is lost.

Rowan's mind returned to the memories she had unwillingly witnessed. The scenes forcefully begin to play out in Rowan's mind as she becomes a helpless spectator. She can only watch in silence unable to move or speak as the tragedy unfolds before her.

High in the Gryffindor tower the morning light creeps through the tower windows. Still sleeping within one of the girl dormitories sits Mary MacDonald on top of a crimson bed covered with golden embellishments. The crimson curtains with golden lining are closed shut around her bed. The soft snuffles, and snores of Lily, Willa, and their two other roommates can be heard in the still morning.

Nervous Mary twitches rocking back and forth as she bites her nails. It is an old childhood habit that had returned with a vengeance. Most of her nails had been bitten down to the nub over the course of the night. She hisses in pain as she finally draws blood and stops.

The dark, red rose droplets spread down her fingers causing Mary to become fixated by the dark streams. She finally reacts as the droplets drip down and stain the bed covers. "Shiz!" Mary swore hastily stopping the bleeding with a simple "Epsikey," a spell used to heal minor cuts and injuries.

The dark shadows under Mary's eyes cause her to appear gaunt and rather skeleton-like. She had not slept again. She had been unable too tormented by the knowledge of what was to come. Rocking back and forth, there she sat without making a noise.

The soft whispers of the girls waking cause Mary to grow still. The hushed conversation between Lily and Willa can be heard through the bed curtains. "Sshh, Mary's finally sleeping!" Willa hissed.

"Alright!" Lily murmured back. "But if Mary doesn't come down for breakfast, we'll come back up and wake her."

The girls dress quietly as much as possible until finally only their fading footsteps can be heard down the corridor. The door shuts firmly, and Mary waits. A pale hand reaches out and pulls back the bed curtains revealing the gaunt figure of Mary.

Gazing out into the chamber, Mary takes in their shared quarters. On Willa's board, there are quidditch posters of famous quidditch players and a picture of Thomas Bell, Willa's boyfriend giving her a hug. In the moving picture, their images laugh and hug each other as they tease each other.

"Remus," Mary whispers with a sick feeling in her stomach. She didn't want to end things between them, but she didn't trust herself. THEIR voices are growing stronger again. And she was afraid that one day soon she wouldn't have the strength to pull away from the collection.

Dry-eyed Mary rose and began to methodically dress. She wasn't hungry, but she had to make a show of eating. Otherwise, Willa and Lily would make a big fuss. And so, she did.

If Mary was silent during the meal no one made a comment. All too soon, Lily as Prefect began to reprimand a student for pulling on the robes of another. The others became busy or talkative as they rose from the tables.

With ease, Mary slipped away into the crowd heading towards Hogsmeade. Her limbs visibly tremble the closer she approaches Hogsmeade. She should tell a professor! However, they had retaken enough power to prevent her from speaking. She couldn't even warn the others!

Feeling weak, Mary barely managed to stumble out of the carriage pausing to rest against the side of the carriage. The two Thestrals turn their blank, white shining eyes to gaze at her. Despite their great black, winged horse skeletal appearance, the dragonish face of the Thestrals seem all-knowing. They somehow know or rather sense the turbulent conflict within her.

Then again, the only individuals who can see a Thestral are those who have seen/witnessed death. Their physical appearance itself appears eerie and sinister to many as a result many wizarding superstitions whispered that a Thestral is an omen of death. And some myths even whisper that Thestrals carry a touch or rather a breath of death itself.

Yet Mary couldn't help but wonder as one of the Thestral's edges closer to her. On the rein of the Thestral, there is a small silver badge with the name inscribed of the Thestral as Tenebrus, the first foal of the herd to be born in the Forbidden Forest. The blank, shining eyes glimmered with something as Tenebrus nudges his head gently against Mary's chest.

Something passes through her like an invisible cannonball causing Mary to fall onto her rump. Wide-eyed Mary gawks at the Thestral as she feels the connection between her, and the hive grow weak as a newborn kitten. The struggle within her simply vanishes as she regains strength in her previously weak limbs.

Tenebrus lets out a snort, before fluttering his leather bat-like wings. He stomps once as if in satisfaction at having crushed a serpent under its deadly hooves. The other thestral lets out a soft snort that sounds like a bird of prey's cry in a reminder of their task. Tenebrus cries back before the two of them trot away tugging the carriage back up the hill towards Hogwarts.

Wordless gratitude wells up inside Mary feeling the collection grow so faint that she can't even feel or hear them. A prickle of tears well up in the corner of her eyes. She sniffs once, before remembering her duty. She had to stop them!

Mary pulls herself back up and dusts herself, especially her slightly bruised rump. Scrabbling across the road, Mary makes her way down the edge of the track road. Yet her heart fills in dismay at seeing the crowds of students and villagers on the road.

There are scores of students and even more so with the addition of the first- and second-year students, who did well on their exams and as a treat are permitted to come down to Hogsmeade. With the addition of the transfer students into the first, second, and third year of Hogwarts, Hogsmeade is truly bustling.

Trying not to shove her way through Mary presses desperately forward. Yet as the minutes pass, she grows more distressed. Finally she puts her civility away and beings to push and shove her way through the crowd. There are murmurs and angered protests, but she did not have time to explain nor apologize.

Mary clears the worst of the crowd when the ground begins to violently shake. Mary glances up at the sky with dread. They are here.