𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟔 - 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭

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╭────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────╮

*(mild) trigger warning: self-harm*

⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼

𝐃

One last attempt.

The Potion Madam Pomfrey had provided me with to instantaneously cure my concussion made me extremely grounded. I also noticed how easy it was to read a chapter without losing focus. Strangely, even though I never had perfect vision (despite the fact that I frequently visited a Healer specializing in eyesight to get my semi-annual vision enhancement spell in order to not require glasses), now I could see even the microscopic specks of dust in the library while I was making my last decisions on which curse was better to use on the necklace.

What better moment to enchant the necklace than now, when I was alert and my focus was thriving?

I did what I had to do and approached the issue with as little emotionality as I could. The potion seemed to have helped with that as well. It must have made me extremely reasonable as well; every shred of anger that I was still holding from my fight with Potter this morning or every urge to talk to Ophelia had blissfully disappeared. I was unemotional even when it came to things that usually infuriated me in a blink of an eye. When I bumped in a mudblood in the library and dropped my books down, I didn't shout, didn't yell, didn't even feel angry.

So, I did what I had to do and placed the necklace deep within my trunk, ready for tomorrow.

Then, with my mind made of stone just like I wanted it, I knocked on Snape's door.

"Everything set for tomorrow?" he said, not raising his eyes to acknowledge me.

"Yes," he answered.

"I will be going to Hogsmeade to settle it. When it gets delivered, I will inform you myself. Wait for my signal."

"How are you going to get it delivered without anyone seeing you?"

"This is none of your business," I answered at once. "Just do as you're told."

"You seem... overtly... confident."

The long pauses in his voice left dead silences that stretched in the dungeon like long screams. In a place like the one Snape adored and never parted from, these silences were as loud as a shriek one would let out while tortured.

"Thank you," I simply said.

"It wasn't intended as a compliment."

I placed my hands on his desk and leaned in warningly.

"Count your words, Severus. By this time tomorrow, I will be man number two in our army. I suggest you stop challenging me further – if you want your greasy head to remain attached to your neck, that is."

"Master Malfoy, you forget," he said mockingly, "you have to succeed first."

Only some vague traces of emotions were beginning to make their way back into my body and mind but they were only fragments compared to the usual anger that derived from within me whenever I had a conversation with Snape.

When I would have usually yelled and snapped at him, the concussion potion stopped me. I simply turned around, held my head truthfully high and left the office, lingering only for one second to give Snape my condescending smirk before closing the door.

Tomorrow would be a triumph. Next time we would meet I would be the Dark Lords favourite. He would mean nothing to me and I would mean everything to him.

𝑆𝐴𝑉𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐷𝑅𝐴𝐶𝑂 𝑀𝐴𝐿𝐹𝑂𝑌Where stories live. Discover now