WHO: Katie & Joseph Bell WHAT: Boxing Day run WHEN: 26th December WHERE: Arran, Scotland WARNINGS: Dementors
It was the family tradition to go on a walk for Boxing Day. Walks that ranged from a sleepy amble around the hills and past a field of sheep to lengthy hikes along the coastline of the island. It was one of those traditions that had sprung up from nothing but the need for movement in the day following a lazy day of food and drink and rest. It was Katie’s need for outside and fresh air even through the cold. Her version was much closer to a long run.
Fresh was the right word for the day, and she rubbed her hands together quickly as she waited for Joe to catch up. She was nervously rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, her running shoes feeling heavy against the cold ground.
“Joe-Joe!” A childhood nickname, almost whined in impatience.
His grumpy, breathless shout in response was just about audible, across the hill.
“You’re off your head if you think I’m going to try outrun you!”
A roll of her eyes and then Katie started to run again at speed. The uneven ground wasn’t the best to run on, but the path only had a little way before it ran out and she’d reach the crop of rocks that signalled the start of one of the beaches.
The morning seemed too quiet, perhaps, but Katie hadn’t really noticed. Joe was far behind now, only her breathing and the sound of her feet keeping her company. She stopped short of the edge of the rocks, leaning down to touch her toes then knees and stretch properly.
But she didn’t straighten up, didn’t look past the horizon and start running again. Fatigue seemed to be setting into her limbs, followed by some cold kind of dread. After all that had been happening, could things still get better? Being left alone with her thoughts made her wonder, mull over the the past few weeks. She’d always been the upbeat one of her family, hopeful and ready to help and fight through whatever obstacle came her way. Katie had hope, wild irrational hope that she always clung onto. Maybe that hope was dimming, just as the light around her seemed to be. The sky seemed darker, duller, just devoid of any kind of fire.
The thought of fire came to her and she shuddered. Katie hadn’t seen Robards’s house on fire, but the image suddenly seemed vivid to her. Flames but the flames weren’t hot just — cold, a cold that seemed to envelop her as she finally stood upright and felt as though she were looking through a strange kind of invisible fog and —
Her brother’s Patronus Charm seemed to cut through the fog in an instant, but she was unsure if it had actually made a sound or if she’d just imagined the screech of the bird of prey. It had alerted her and moved her into action, as she grabbed her own wand from her pocket and raised it at the oncoming cluster of Dementors. Focus. They couldn’t stop her from hoping, from fighting.
She hadn’t survived that stupid cursed necklace for this.
Her greyhound joined the bird, and Katie felt Joe’s arm catch her as she stumbled forwards and he rushed to meet her. She grabbed at his arm, both of them taking gulping breaths as the fog lifted from her. It was cold, biting cold against her arms and cheeks, but the Dementors were retreating.