Sifting through my memories

Dora answered the riddle that was requested of her and she passed through the portrait entrance and into the common room itself. She felt a little bit better now that she was surrounded by the blue and silver of the Ravenclaw common room.

She still felt a little bit jumpy though, despite everything. She wanted nothing more than to forget but she felt the memories slowly coming back, seeping into her subconscious and taking over all five of her senses.

Dora stumbled over to one of the couches and slumped down onto the blue upholstery. She felt sick, the memories were zooming past her eyes and blurring her vision. She dropped her head between her knees and closed her knees tightly around her head, hoping to get some physical reaction (preferably pain) that would bring her back to the present and not send her into the past.

But still the memories chugged on as one after another blurred her vision, making it impossible to see. Amadora cried out in desperation, hoping for someone to come ... someone to save her. But all there was, was silence. Or at least until the voices came.

"Now Dora, do you remember the stories I told you? The one about the wizards and their special gifts?" Avery Lunel was sat next to his little girl who was watching him, cuddling her bear as she sat under the covers of her bed.
"Of course papa! How could I forget. One had a wand, another a cloak and the last a stone. Was I right, papa?" she asked, her little voice high with anticipation and a thirst to learn; to see if her father would reward her with praise.

"That's right sweetheart. Did you know that the one with the stone was in love?" he asked, only receiving a small shake of the head from his little girl. "He was in love with a woman so beautiful that even a Muggle model would be jealous. She was no Veela and some might had considered her plain but he loved her all the same."
"But if she was plain, how was she beautiful papa?" Dora asked.
"Just like Maggie you are, always wanting to learn my darling." he chuckled.
"Daddy I am not like her." Dora wrinkled her nose and Avery chuckled.
"You are right my darling, you are not like her." he said wistfully. "Unlike her you have the ability to love. Never mask yourself from those who truly want you to be who you really are my little girl, never."
"I won't papa, I promise."

The vision melted away as the screams that escaped her mouth filled her ears in such a pitch that it could have been likened to Muggle police sirens. Dora's breathing was uneven and her chest was heaving as her panic attack began to pass and she began to gain control of her body again.

Amadora sat back in her seat and pulled her legs up so her knees were resting under her chin. Tears stained her face like spilled ink on parchment and she wondered if she would ever grow out of this. Out of those visions.

She had nightmares like any normal person but hers were vivid, just like the vision - the memory, her memory. It was always a happy memory that tore through her body like a fire trying to burn anything it could lick with its orange flame. It raced through her and before she even registered that it had started, it ended and she was brought back to the real would with a panic attack or something much worse.

Fresh tears sprang into Dora's eyes and she let her hair shield her. She was scared beyond rational thinking and she didn't want to accept the fact that she was trapped inside of the four walls of her mind. Even her walled defences couldn't protect her from the memories. Nothing could.

"Hey, you ok?" James asked the girl that a crumpled onto his favorite couch. Under any normal circumstance, he would have kicked whoever had invaded his area of work out, but the girl on the couch was very obviously crying. A pang of pity arose from within him. He once acted like that- he once curled up on his bed and cried, rocking himself to ward off the ghosts of his past. Hopefully, she wasn't going through a similar process. He had learned to dull them down of course. He threw himself into his research instead.

Claire walked into the common room slowly and quietly as she was so tired and sleepy. She threw herself on a nearest couch she could find. She took a deep breath, resting all of her senses. She looked around and saw some other Ravenclaws. Her eyes spotted a girl sitting on a couch not far from her. It seemed like she was crying. "Hey, are you ok? what's wrong?", she asked her and felt anxious. She turned her head towards the boy, "Hey, you're James right? do you know what happened to her?"

Amadora nodded slightly to the boy. She knew she probably couldn't get any words out of her mouth at that point, too many things were flicking through her mind and her vision was only just returning to the Ravenclaw common room instead of the image of her and her father.

Dora's eyes were like a blind persons eyes. Pointing in the direction their head is facing but not seeing anything. She couldn't stomach the fact that she was alone in the world. She couldn't get over that, she didn't understand - for the life of her couldn't.

"I-i'm fine." she whispered, her voice hoarse from her screams but it still held some of its easy charm. "O-or I will be."

Dora dried her eyes and furiously tried to scrub away the water in her eyes but it was adamant that it was staying. She wanted to disappear into the whole she'd been chucked out of sixteen years ago. She was sick of looking at her broken, gaunt appearance in the mirror every morning. She'd had enough, but not enough to take her own life.

Dora dropped her head fully onto her knees and closed her eyes. She knew her eyelids were slightly purpled from lack of sleep, no one needed to tell her. It was a sight that not even she wanted to see but it was something she had to see every day. Perhaps sleep would never come.

James, sharp as ever, knew better than to believe her. She looked like a train wreck. He mouthed to the other Ravenclaw that had entered the room "I don't know," but then wore a smile, book ready to be opened. He flopped onto the couch next to her. "Well then, since you're fine," he said flippantly, "Maybe you could help me out with a few problems."

He flipped open the book to a complex problem. Judging from the girl's reaction he would pry deeper into her nightmare, or simply distract her from her memories. That was the most prudent approach, in terms of dealing with humans. Ace HATED not planning out each step, but humans were unpredictable.

Amadora curled her legs underneath her and smoothed out her skirt. She could deal with helping out others, that wasn't a problem but she couldn't face her own problems more than she already had too because it was just too much.

Amadora looked down at her hands slightly apprehensively and traced the curling scar on the back of her left one. She lifted her head up, knowing that it was better to show no fear than letting it flow - a mistake she had made there.

"I'm sure I can help you." Dora murmured, her voice returning to its bell tones. She wiped her eyes once more and sniffed slightly before interlacing her fingers and settling them on her lap. "I can try at least, right?"

"Yeah, I'm sure you can." Now then, which path would he follow? He already knew the book inside out, but he read it to reaffirm what he had learned. His eyes followed her finger as she traced the scar on the back of her hand. "Does it hurt?" he asked her, as if absentmindedly. His eyes scanned the pages of the book in front of him, almost afraid to look her in the eyes.
He was gladded that his scars could easily be hidden by a glove.

Dora nodded and bit her lip as she looked down at the scar. It was starting to get a little bit more irritable now that the Full Moon was closing in and she could hear the whispers of the wolf that was only partly transferred to her. She was grateful her father was there to save her otherwise she would be the one at the Full Moon, running through the Forbidden Forest trying to get a grip on reality.

"It hurts when the Full Moon is at my doorstep. Otherwise it is just simply there, reminding me of exactly who in my life I should be grateful to and who I should not."

For a moment Dora feared that she had said too much and given too much away to someone she barely knew. Perhaps it was how vulnerable she felt that made her spill that little secret of hers. As far as those who knew her were aware she came from a loving home and all that jazz but it just wasn't like that. She would have thanked the Gods every day if it were truly like that but sadly, it wasn't.

"I see." A werewolf bite. I should have guessed it. He felt compelled to show her his own scar, but he did not want to scare her. Or offend her. Maybe show could notice the werewolf blood coursing through him, and felt a certain kinship with the girl. However, he needed to serve as a distraction, not as a reminder.
"Do you know anything about dementors?" he asked, as if he totally ignored the question he had asked, and the answer he had received.

"I know enough." Dora said blandly. "They don't effect me so much though. I can do it by myself. Re-live memories that is."

Dora spoke nothing but truth there. The Dementors left her alone. They didn't affect her because they regarded her as one of their own. She was like a Dementor herself, one that only effected her mind. She has memories thrown at her with such clarity that if it was just too much for her at any one point, it could destroy her mind. She knew that and could always feel the effects nibbling away at her.

Sometimes she could tell when they were coming and others she couldn't, it was just wash over her and she would have a panic-attack before finally being forced into them. The thing that irked her though was that they weren't always bad memories.

"Do the affect you?" Dora asked quietly.