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An unsettling feeling begins in the pit of my stomach, and I kneel down in front of my father again. “Dad, please?” I beg, but he continues to ignore me, like I’m not even there.
I turn my thoughts away from the depressing direction they are taking, and I do a small turn around the amazingly large entrance hall. It feels so much larger when alone, I note first and foremost, and the second thing I notice is that Hogwarts seems to be asleep.
Dumbledore stands and walks over to the corner of the room. I watch, just noticing the Phoenix that is perched on a small swinging cage. Dumbledore strokes the crimson feathers, and the bird nuzzles his hand in return. “How long have you been dead, Miss Alexander?”
“Not a fan of costume parties?” I continue to look over the table, until my eyes meet a pair of golden orbs and I realize that the man dressed as a vampire next to me is actually speaking to me.
“Please, Remus, wait! I think I need to explain.” I said, pushing into the room. He fell back, trying to get away from me as fast as he could. I kept going until he was scrambling for his wand next to what I assumed was his bed. I held my hands up, unsure of whether a hex would hurt me or not.
“Prongs, that you?” I held my breath though I knew he wouldn’t be able to hear me. And then the strangest thing happened; he thrust his hand forward, waving it around. He narrowly missed me and I stepped even closer against the railing of the landing to prevent him from touching me. “Weird.” He muttered to himself, before stepping back and closing the door.
And it was stupid to admit, for all intents and purposes I was dead, but I didn’t want him to dislike me either.
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