Scream for Me ((India))

[Dylan Caoimhe]

He couldn't. He wanted to, but, he just couldn't. Not anymore. He was numb to it now. This was his reality, and at some unknown point, his mind had apparently came to terms and accepted that. He was going back in a few days, and, that was that. Back to the orphanage until next September. His wand moved in a slow but swift circular motion, as he guided lily petals that were suspended in mid-air and whirling all around him. But, he payed absolutely no attention to them. He just layed there in the grass by the Black lake, staring up at the clear blue summer sky. The only thing existent, or the only thing Dylan could acknowledge, was the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach that he got at the end of every school year, and why he was acting the way he was.

Normally, this was the time of year Dylan was exceptionally rude and hot tempered, but, he hadn't snapped at a single person. He wasn't rude, disrespectful, or even cheeky. It was like somewhere deep inside, there was a little child, screaming, kicking, and yelling, ''I don't want to go back! I don't! I won't! You can't make me!'' And yet, somehow, this time, Dylan was able to suppress it and almost effortlessly resist it's persistent urgings for him to yell out, and go crazy. Perhaps, he was maturing, realizing that he wasn't a little child anymore, and that instead of complaining, it was time for him to step up, and deal with, well, life.

Maybe he was realizing that there were people going through and have been through worse than what he has. But still, he couldn't help but feel everyone had it better that he did. He couldn't help but be resentful of every other student here because they all had homes to go to. Family that loved and cared for them. All he had was a room in a relatively big building in Bristol. He didn't have a family. He basically lived with a bunch of strangers, regardless of the fact that he's lived there his entire life. He was all alone, and he knew it. It was one of the worst feelings in the world. Well, he had made a few friends this year, but that was different. It was, irrelevant for some reason. Hogwarts and the orphanage were two very different places that Dylan never bothered or wished to connect.

Hogwarts was his escape. For all these years he had been alone here too, but that didn't matter to him for some reason. And now that he had, well, friends here, it just made him all the more reluctant to return to Bristol. He never thought about it before now, but he knew he'd miss everyone, though he'd never admit it. Theo, Mary, Scott, 'Super Prefect' Wynd, August. Dylan smiled a little, but it quickly vanished. He had thought about asking each one of them if they'd write him, but he couldn't bring himself to ask. It would just be another long and lonely summer until next year. Just like it always was. Like it's always been. And this summer would be the worst by far.

This would be his first summer without Alanah. He wanted to believe he had got out what he needed to get out, but what about when he actually returned to the orphanage? What would it be like to be in her old office which was now his bed room? What would it be like to be there, without her, expecting her to turn a corner, or wake him up in the mornings? Still slowly rotating his wand through the air, he closed his eyes. He had to deal with this. He had no choice. He had no where else to go.

[India Nightingale]

((The post claims Dylan to be in the same year as India, because she’s staying back a year next year, so I’m assuming they would be. If Dylan isn’t moving up though, do say so. )

The grass; it was so green. And that sky; oh, it was so blue. India’s eyes gazed across the shimmering azure of the lake, silent and unmoving, just... taking in all the colours of the world. The blinding innocent white of those fluffy clouds, the colourful, bright hues of scattered flowers in the Courtyard. It was all so... painfully beautiful, it made India want to cry. The wind rustled against her ears, tickling her sensitive skin, calling for her in mysterious voices she couldn’t decipher – voices she’d never decipher, nor understand, or comprehend. The world remained yet a mystery for the sixth year Slytherin girl, however hard she tried to reach out and grasp its confusing, eluding concepts. India knew that, even though so much had changed in the last sixth months, this world that she lived in had barely altered at all. All that had changed was herself – her thoughts, her beliefs, her soul. Her entire world had been rearranged by some... predestined choice, or fate, or whatever Seers called it, and yet, here she was standing, alone and... alone, a different person, and nothing else had changed a single bit. India subconsciously bit her bottom lip, chewing it a little and moistening it. The world hadn’t changed for her, but to her, the world had changed, and she viewed it with different eyes now. Eyes with less hatred and contempt, eyes with more understanding and acknowledgement. Eyes that... could now move on. Yes... India wanted to move on.

Strands of straight blonde hair flew against her cheek as a surge of the cool breeze passed through her area. India’s thoughts were less self-deprecating now, but the dilemma that was Drake Manning was still unsolved. Who was this man? And what did he mean to her? Those weird glances he often sent her way, so condescending, yet so longing. It confused India, and it made her wonder. He invoked many emotions within India’s chest that longed to be heard, longed to be free, which she was now allowed to do, but yet she could not recall them properly. Her memory had regained itself fully in the last few months, but Drake... he was still a mystery. Skye had confirmed her relation with Drake not long after their first confrontation since India’s memory loss, and it upset her that she could not remember him. It evidently upset him too. Thankfully, there was Caleb... India couldn’t bring herself to smile about the other seventh year Slytherin though. He had been somewhat a comfort to her in the last few weeks; he was a calming, relaxing presence, despite what others thought; despite their initial meeting, which India could recall clearly. It was a surprise that India had found talking to him so easy, but she was a changed girl... and she welcomed her blossoming relationship with Caleb.

Closing her eyes against the lull of the breeze, relaxing her tense muscles and letting it wash over her like a tide coming in from the ocean to the beach, India wished her thoughts would be carried away by water or wind... just to let her rest her mind a while. She had been thinking so much recently, she was surprised her brain hadn’t self-combusted yet. India just wanted to relax properly – forget Drake, forget Caleb. She had Skye, and she had the summer ahead of her, and she wanted to use to properly as a break from Hogwarts. A part of India was terrified of returning home... to a home she had never had. To a mother she had never known, never loved. The old India hated change, hated anomaly, hated... hated novelty. And she still harboured the same fears and dislike for such situations, where she was put on the spot. But India knew she had to overcome those obstacles, and she felt determined she would, with her twin’s undying support. Moreover, if Skye could speak again... India believed anything was possible. Anything.

“Mother, where are you now? What are you doing?” India thought, looking up at the heavens and feeling her eyes moisten with tears. She blinked them back quickly, though not furiously, for she could accept that crying was a natural human behaviour, and she was indeed human, but she still didn’t enjoy doing it, especially in public. India felt crying was a very personal thing to oneself. Hands tightening by her sides, she began to drift along the banks, feet stepping along lush grass probably tended to with magic. Listening to birdsong that arrived at her ears, India smiled just a little – barely detectable – and found a tree she could sit under and be at peace for a while. Leaning against the bark, she tilted her head back and revelled in the solitude. She enjoyed loneliness in a different way now – because never again would she be alone. Eventually, she opened her eyes at the sounds of footsteps, and looked up to see the familiar figure of Dylan Caoimhe coming towards her. Her fellow sixth year Slytherin was someone India had probably never talked to... not a surprise, knowing the old her. Sighing softly to herself, she felt her guard automatically raise itself anyway. She had no idea how people would react to this changed India Nightingale, so... she was always wary of new people approaching her.

[Dylan Caoimhe]

As a light, cool breeze blew over the grounds, Dylan inhaled sharply. It was fresh, crisp, and to Dylan's surprise, sweet even; the scent of the lily petals had mingled quite harmoniously with the breeze. Smiling only slightly, he sat up and propped himself on his left elbow, and using his wand, levitated the petals to the edge of the lake, and dropped them in the water, where they floated along the surface. He stowed his wand away in his pocket, and positioned his arm so that he now lay propped up on both of his elbows, gazing around. It was funny, how he had been here for as long as he had, and yet, he never really stopped to take in the beauty of Hogwarts. Looking to his side, he dug his fingers deep into the unnaturally soft grass, curling and uncurling his fists, repeating the same method with his bare feet; curling and uncurling his toes, allowing the grass to shift in between them.

For some reason, he had never seen Hogwarts the way he did now. In this moment he felt, connected to the place, like he understood without really knowing what it was his mind was grasping. He felt such, peace and tranquility. In fact, he couldn't remember a moment where his mind was so clear, his heart so light. Grinning, he recalled last summer when he and Alanah had stayed up late one night, cleaning the kitchen at the orphanage. He remembered the look on her face as she reminisced about her very last day during her seventh year at Hogwarts, and how she said she felt like she was ''one'' with the school. Of course, Dylan thought she was mad and secretly laughed at her while her eyes were closed, but he somewhat regretted it, because he supposed he was feeling now what she felt then, and it was hardly funny. With that last thought, his smile faded.

He was so, different now, like, he was becoming who he had feared himself to be, and had been trying so desperately hard to hide, and change. And yet, he found that he was happier with who he was now, than who he was just a short while ago. The process had been a very tedious one; throughout the year, he had experienced such lows of the likes he had never seen before, but he was, glad that he had. It was like at some point he knew he needed to break down, shed a few tears, so that when he built himself back up, he'd be stronger. And, he did indeed feel stronger.

Turning on his side, he happened to look up, and immediately, he recognized India Nightingale, walking along the shore of the lake. Running his hand through his hair, Dylan lowered his eyes to the grass. He felt a strange pull. An urging even. Looking back up, he saw that she had come to rest against a tree. Without really knowing what he was doing, he stood up and grabbed his shoes, making no move to put them back on. He walked across the grass, and when he reached India, he gave a nod and a small smile.

''Hey,'' he said placing his free hand in his pocket. Unintentionally, he looked out over the lake, and it was almost as if it were calling to him. He started walking forward, and after about two steps, he turned back slightly to India, eyes still focused on the vast body of water. ''Would you mind coming to sit with me down by the lake? I just want to get my feet wet, if that's alright with you.''

[India Nightingale]

India assessed Dylan with nonchalant eyes. Her distrust emmanted from her aura rather than her gaze, which was blank and unassuming. Perhaps she looked like an empty ghost to Dylan; India wouldn't have blamed him if he did perceive this view. After all, she agreed with such an opinion herself when she glimpsed in the mirror. This was a rare event, for it seemed, even after having her memories erased, India still retained an irrational fear of looking in the mirror. Gazing upon Skye had become much easier, as had her acceptance of her, but looking at herself... now that was a different issue altogether. It was as though India found it simple to like Skye now, because she had never truly hated her. However, when it came to herself, her self-hatred was not just an illusion she had forced upon herself; it seemed she really did despise her very existence. India still questioned the reasoning behind it every hour of every day. Why was she here? What was she living for? They were unanswerable questions, but it never stopped India from asking them. She was a curious person by nature - hence why the Sorting Hat had once said, six years ago, that India would have easily been sorted into the blue house had she not had such a traumatic, bitter history. However, there was a problem with being curious, because when you hit a dead end - found a question no one could answer, one that was apparently lacking in an answer - you would reach a level of frustration that was hard to deal with, coupled with that constant nagging voice at the back of your head. It was exasperating.

But anyway - back to the present situation. India watched Dylan intently for a few moments, but eventually turned her gaze. She knew it was rude to watch, and she had no intention of prying into the guy's life, for it was none of her concern. India had never been keen on entering other people's lives; she would probably always prefer distance and solitude. India didn't enjoy learning about others, getting to know others. There were only a handful of people who had had that privilege, and most of them had hurt India so much she had given up on people in general. It certainly startled her when Dylan's voice, quiet though clear, reached her ears, and she jerked her head towards him in surprise. She had not expected him to speak with her; she had expected him to ignore her presence, as though she was nonexistent. Indeed, India felt nonexistent; sometimes she felt as though she might as well be dead, because no one would care. Blinking, her eyes clearly showing her surprise, India recollected herself quickly, and retracted her visible emotions to form a facial expression to show she was musing over Dylan's random, rather shocking request. India couldn't say she knew the other Slytherin, so she couldn't pinpoint whether or not this was in character for him, but he had always been a quiet boy, one who struck her as not your typical Slytherin. He didn't hang around with the stuck-up, pompous boys in his year, nor did he associate with the arrogant, prissy girls either. India appreciated this, but still - Dylan's invitation was one she had to be wary of.

And he had said 'if that's all right with you'. India could hardly believe her ears as she pondered in silence, her keen eyes watching Dylan's expression fixedly. No one had ever... ever asked her if it was 'all right' with her. No one. Not a single person had ever wondered if she was okay with something, whether or not she was comfortable with a particular situation. Duke had always gotten his own way, always chosen what India was to do and say. Skye was mute, end of. There was no one else she was close to in her life, except for her recent friendship with Caleb Donnelly, and he certainly hadn't asked her anything of the like yet. And, not forgetting Drake of course, India thought dryly as she recalled the seventh year Slytherin who so persistently insisted they once knew each other. Apparently she'd had some sort of a relationship with him, but she was sure he had never wondered if she was 'all right'. Did he? A slight frown crossed India's forehead, but she did not dwell on the matter. Drawn by Dylan's polite request, possibly the first real human contact outside of Skye and her family since the incident, India found herself silently making her way from the tree to the edge of the lake, where she sat down beside Dylan. The scene was quiet for a while, save for the calling of birds and the rush of the water, until India made the leap of faith and decided to speak to her classmate. "Why?" she asked, her voice but a soft whisper in the wind. "Why did you ask me to join you? Why me? Why ask anyone? Did you think I'd say yes? Why would you say 'if it's all right' with me? Why do my feelings matter at all?"

They were rhetorical, unanswerable and unsuitable questions, but they were questions nonetheless, and India needed to know the answers to them. For so long she had been denied the freedom of knowledge - ironic, since she had always been a genius in terms of intellect - and now, India was determined to find her answers in her new life. Her face was etched in a delicate frown, turned to Dylan in the face of the breeze as she asked him them slowly - not surely, rather the opposite - but slowly, as to make sure she was saying the right things, as though she was uncertain of herself and what she would say. After asking though, India looked away, partially in shame, and proceeded to remove her shoes, dipping her bare feet into the cool, trickling water of the lake. It brushed her toes, tickling the palm of her foot, and India resisted a rare smile of delight.

[Dylan Caoimhe]

Dylan tore his gaze away from the water to look at India, who looked apprehensive about his invitation, but silently stood up anyway. Dylan gave a small smile, and once she was next to him, they began walking side by side in unison until they reached the edge of the Black Lake. He lightly tossed his shoes into the grass, and reached down to roll up his pants. Squatting, he slid his legs into the cool water one by one, the surface dancing against his shins just below his kneecaps. Circling his feet slowly, he leaned back, settling his hands once more into the grass. Licking his lips, Dylan looked over at India who was looking at him, a mildly surprised expression on her face. He went to speak, but she had spoken before him, barely audible. Dylan looked her in her eyes as she asked him questions; they were a very pleasant mixture of blue and green, which looked magnificent in their current surroundings, and they held an emotion that Dylan couldn't quite discern.

It was like she was somewhat sad, but happy, wary, but interested, scared, and yet almost embracive. Her eyes held so many feelings, all contradictory of each other, and Dylan couldn't help but smile and feel a certain closeness to her. He knew all too well about how it felt to be so conflicted, which was how he had felt all the time, until now. India looked away after she had finished talking, and proceeded to take her shoes off. Dylan looked down into his lap contemplating exactly what would be the correct way to answer her questions. He heard her put her legs into the water, and he looked up at her to see her staring at her feet through the water, a form of happiness apparent in her face.

Normally he would have thought such questions odd if they had came from another person. But, India was very different, which he knew just from what he had seen of her previously. She was a lot like Dylan just in the sense that she seemed to be very closed off, and didn't really like too many people, if any, to talk to or even approach her. ''Well,'' he said surprised at how low his own voice was. Maybe it was just the atmosphere; it was very peaceful and serene; it almost called for calm. ''Why not ask you? Quite honestly, I wasn't sure if you would agree, so, I was very surprised when you stood up.'' Dylan chuckled to himself. ''For a moment I thought you were going to just walk away....which, I wouldn't have held against you. I'd probably do the same thing if some random person I barely knew had disturbed me and asked if I would come sit with them. And,'' he said starting to move his legs in wider circles, ''unless you expected me to hold you at wand point and force you to come sit with me, which I wouldn't hold against you for thinking either, considering the rumors that have flew around this place about me, I would say your feelings matter a whole lot, wouldn't you?''

[India Nightingale]

India couldn't help a small lilt at the lips at Dylan's first admittance. She wasn't surprised he was surprised, anyone would have been. India Nightingale was renowned to be an 'Ice Queen' throughout their year, and she had never accepted any sort of friendly camaraderie. However, all that had changed; India was a different person, inside and out. Her hair was definitive of this, its silken natural blondeness glowing from sunbeams running through its straight tresses. It was a complete contrast to her former dark entangles, curls of sadness, misery and pain, as well as resentment and anger, weaved through her emotions. At last, she was free. India fingered it subconsciously as Dylan continued to speak, just as quiet as herself, and she found a bond of sorts sparking between them. In the same way India had formed ties with Caleb, she felt herself connected to Dylan. It had been quick and painless, both of which surprised her a great deal. She had not expected friendship would be priceless - in both ways. Priceless in the sense you did not pay for it, and priceless in the way you could not pay for it. India was aware it was her first time in almost a decade that she had so easily made acquaintances, and although it felt somewhat unnatural and uncomfortable, it came easy, and nevertheless, made her feel warm inside.

India hadn't expected to be able to 'recover' from her past self; not only because she didn't trust herself to regain the ability to form bonds, but also because she did not believe the environment she lived in would accept the change within her. Already, as she had predicted, people had shunned her for her alternate, new appearance, scorning her golden hair, despising her for who she is - or once was. India had been ready to receive such a response, but it still - yes, she could admit it - it still pained her, it still made her heart ache when someone else shot her a cursory, distasteful glance, as though she did not belong, as though she would never belong, as though she was worthless. Was she really good for nothing? Did her feelings and opinions matter at all? India had not been able to find the will to believe in herself, or the people around her. She didn't think they would accept her for who she once was and had now become, and she in turn could accept this. She would be an outcast forever, and she would live like this, with these consequences, because she deserved this divine punishment. India never believed in god, but recently, she had contemplated upon the thought of a higher being. Perhaps, she wondered, there is someone up there, some sort of creature or power. Something beyond her and these humans, something bigger and better.

India wanted to believe that.

India glanced up at Dylan as he finished speaking, his words striking chords in her heart she did not know existed. Blinking back moist eyes, she gazed upon Dylan's calm face for a moment, before looking back down at her feet, encased in cool water trickling between her toes. It was a languid, peaceful feeling that was evoked in her chest, where her heart lay. India contemplated her thoughts for a short moment, before speaking again, this time stronger, more confident than before. Within her mind, she was reaching out with straining arms to catch, to find, the person she was, the way she should be feeling and the words her voice - also elusive - should speak. Always, always, India struggled against some sort of powerful mental block, but with the help of Dylan's answer ringing in her ears, India found herself moving steadily towards the light; the answers were coming towards her faster, and she could begin to reach them with her outstretched fingers. "For a moment, I thought I was going to walk away too." She repeated Dylan's phrase with a wry, albeit small, endearing smile.

India tilted her head to one side in slight curiousness, gazing back at Dylan in a little surprise and puzzlement. "Rumours that I have never had the pleasure of hearing," she stated somewhat sarcastically, her eyes flashing in irritation - a spark, a slice of her old self surfacing. No, India had never heard such rumours about Dylan Caoimhe, and she was glad she hadn't. Most of the rumours she had used to hear were about herself, and they still reigned popular amongst her peers today. They aggravated her little, both back then and now, for she blocked them from her conscience, chose to ignore the hurt they could so easily inflict. However, India disliked turning a blind eye to other rumours about other people - those that were, no doubt, false. Fake lies invented by fake people. "I'm afraid, if I were still like the girl I once was - the girl of rumours I have no doubt you have heard - I would have sought out those who spread such vile comments and silenced them forever." India's eyes darkened at her memories of herself. "However, I am a changed person... and all we can do is stand strong and ignore those who wish to do us ill. Those who have no understanding or knowledge of what we suffer." India's shoulders drooped a little, then straightened in pride.

"I would have sat beside you whether or not I had heard of the rumours," she chose to say again, looking up at the sky to avoid eye contact with Dylan, for she was a little embarrassed at her choice of words. "I do not base my judgements on rumours. I know better than anyone else they are usually false, exaggerated. I chose to take up on your offer of accompaniment, because... you struck me as someone I would be able to have a decent conversation with. Or rather, you could teach me how to having a decent conversation. I haven't had one for a long time, and I feared I'd forgotten how to. That, and... I must admit. I was lonely." The most honest comment India had ever spoken about herself resided in the atmosphere for a moment, before the blow of the summer wind swept it away, gone forever, transient; but echoing, instilled within hers and Dylan's minds. "I think, though, however much we strive for company, we will always be alone. My beliefs are dark and lack hope, but that has been the way I have lived almost all my life. It is a hard view to change. I am trying to change anyway though, to move against the evils that feed on my negatives." India felt ashamed, yet liberated, to speak the truth for once. It was stark and real, but it was the truth, and it felt good. "Someone has yet to teach me that we are not always alone. Someone has yet to teach me that my feelings truly matter. Even I have found it difficult to believe I matter." There. That was her answer to Dylan's question. "To believe that my feelings matter a whole lot... is a difficult perception."