is this a sweet dream, or a beautiful nightmare?

She dreamt of war.

A violent war.
Violent war.
War.

It felt as if it took place many years ago, but at the same time it wasn't so long ago. Come to think of it, she looked no younger than eleven in that dream. Hang on a second, she was eleven, judging by her getup and her Uchitel eagerness she recognized all too easily. But if she was eleven, why was Ksenia eleven, in the same year as her, and in her house? Why was the wolf girl from Azorat there? Why was Frodo eleven? Why was Kayla – out of all people – be in Hitrost? Who was the blonde girl who ran around the castle with a thermos of coffee every where she went who was friends with both Ksenia and Rhys?

Come to think of it, nothing made sense.
Nothing made sense.
Nothing made.
Nothing.

The dream was meandering and beautiful, and at the same time full of complications she never knew existed.

Did they exist?
Did they?
Exist?

She had lunch with an older boy from Hrabrost and they were friends with Ksenia, and a handsome boy from Hitrost she fancied for about five seconds. There was a girl from Slushatel named Aalyrial who Ksenia didn’t like, and – oh Merlin, the weirdest part of all – Lena liked Ksenia. Whatever happened to worst enemies for life? That was a conundrum she would never understand.

There was also a professor who took out Ksenia’s kidneys (which made enough sense for the Uchitel), and a fight with Flying between Aalyrial and Ksenia. That was entertaining, in her perspective.

At one point in this difficult, paradoxical dream, they were in a library. She didn’t know why there were so many people in the library. On one side of the library was Ksenia and a very handsome boy (who she decided she hated very, very much) with a hoard of other people she never knew the names of. On the other was herself. Poor quiet Lena who was stuck on the fringes of friendship. She had never met Frodo or Kait or even Anya at this point in time, and by the looks of it they were never close friends. Come to think of it, she didn’t have any friends. Not until she met Rhys in a bevy of other people, also in the library.

Hazelle and Tessa didn’t exist. Dommi still did.

The dream skipped forward to their fourth year, as she heard some people yelling about fifteenth birthdays and such. She was this Other Lena, Lena in the periwinkle blue – not amethyst – Uchitel robes, walking down the corridor as if she owned the world, a bottle of vodka firmly clasped in her hand. She wasn’t tipsy, she was sure enough of that. Her hair was also unimaginably blonde, like yellow tinted snow. She was also taller. Much taller.

She walked past the corridors, and found the blonde girl Rhys was friends with glancing dreamily at him. Lena narrowed her eyes, and walked towards the ginger, holding his warm hand in hers, rejoicing over every pearl of jealousy she never got from the girl.

Bliss turned from Rhys’s hand to the cool winds of summer, and out of the Durmstrang ships Lena came out. There was a glinting on her shirt: the Uchitel prefect badge. The blonde had a self-assured smile on her face: snide and sly. Next to her came the Slushatel – oh sorry, fellow Uchitel – in a rage: the cool, quiet, dangerous kind. She could not help but eye her badge, and words spilled out of the Uchitel’s mouth.

“I’m sorry,” she replied wistfully, mockingly, contradictorily, “it takes more than a hot guy to be Prefect, Sokol. You need the brains too.”

“We both have the brains, Vorstenbach,” Ksenia snapped.

“We do have brains,” Lena rejoindered, “but unlike you, I have my kidneys.” She hooted haughtily, searching for the group of friends – whoever they were – and the way up to Durmstrang.

It was the same year, and there was Dommi, looking at Lena with bright blue eyes, sobbing. The blonde had held her friend with such a proximity that Ashling would have flinched, but this was Lena’s body, not hers.

“I’m pregnant!” she wept, “Lena… what am I doing to d-do…”

“You are going to be fine, Dominique Cartwright,” she replied strongly, “I know you very, very well, and I know that you are going to be just fine. I will never let anyone – “

“ – harm me?” yelled the Slushatel, “but Charles already has…”

Again, it flashed forward, and this time, it was clear it was their graduation. She could feel it, the air around them, her heart beating quickly in her chest. She could feel it when Rhys grabbed her by the waist and twirled her in the air, their lips pressed in undeniable harmony in the cool spring air. She could feel it when they were chanting ‘Head Girl’ in her ears, her ears drumming with so much pleasure, so facetious she could feel tears coming out of her bright blue eyes. Her heart began to melt, to laugh, and she looked around and exclaimed for Frodo and Anya and Kait and Lora and watch Kayla and a guy she supposed was Anya’s brother in the background, slow dancing by themselves, away from all the chaos.

There were tears welling up in her eyes.

As she was propelled forward an umpteenth time, Lena found that she was in a garden (alone, with the stars watching) with Rhys, running. From her perspective, it seemed as if his goal was to catch her, and so she quickened her pace, trying to dampen her panting.

“I’m gonna catch you, Le!” exclaimed the ginger.

“No, you’re not!” Lena yelled back, focused on the ring on her finger.

Rhys leaped to grab the blonde by the waist and they both tumbled onto the ground, laughing. She was going to bury her head on his chest, before sturdy men dressed in black Apparated into their garden, and the blonde reacted quickly. She grabbed her wand, trying to fight them, throwing spells as quickly as she had mustered. But Rhys… he was not so lucky.

“No!” she cried, yelling for Dommi. “Dommi! For God’s sake, Dommi!”

The Slushatel Apparated as quickly as Lena had summoned her, and the Healer ran and inspected his pulse.

“He’s dead,” she replied grimly, “Lena, there’s nothing you can do.”

Lena had sobbed, just like Ashling would have sobbed too. She held him, the lifeless him with his pale complexion and the flaming ginger hair and his bright blue eyes that she will never see again.

“P-Please…” both Ashling and Lena begged, their voices in jagged harmony, “don’t leave me…”

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she was in a building. An underground building. She stared sullenly at her companions, and making sure they were not watching, she laid herself down on the ground and began to sob.

She didn't want to wake up. Not now. Not later. Not ever.