"I'm going to fucking ruin you."
-
The Dark Lord conquers the wizarding world, Harry Potter is dead. Muggleborns are slaughtered. Halfblood's are shoved into imprisonment, conditioned to alter their beliefs and dictated to worship Purebloods.
Y/N Y...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐍 | "𝐈 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐡𝐢𝐦."
ϟ
Forgiveness and judgement are the twin redundant attitudes. They develop the kind of creative problem solving skills that leads to real comprehension of issues and preventative solutions.
Sadness comes as a painful cleanse. It is a chance to detox and reassess what is helping and what is hurting, a chance to make new choices and inform others that I have boundaries, needs, and vulnerabilities.
"Sorry," I say with a sympathetic tone. "Just because you choose not to bark doesn't mean you're broken. I shouldn't have called you that."
A fragment of my mind builds up an absolutely excruciating shame of the way that I'm speaking to a fucking dog as if she were a person.
Yet, her fragile beady eyes stare at me as if she understands.
I turn the handle and swing the entryway open, the outer halls are deemed to be dark, the only light emitting as lines underneath others' doors.
"Do you want to come with me?" I question, scanning her slumped tired posture, situated by a pillow.
She lifts herself, striding towards the edge of the bed. The white dog glances at how high the mattress is from the floor, then glances back at me.
Understandably, I step over to her. Tenderly upraising her from the bed, I set her down onto the floor.
"Are you scared of everything?" I ask, even if I knew there was no way in hell she would have the ability to respond to me— a cool refreshing wave trickled down my chest.
I love having someone to talk to.
Seeping my body past the door, I watched as she worked her paws against the hardwood floor to follow me. I carefully reached and flipped the light switch off, prior to gently latching the door shut.
With my wizardry restricted, I can't rehearse my abilities. So frequently, I end up rehashing spells and charms in my mind (in the circumstance I would utilize them in).
Lumos, Lumos, Lumos.
The corridors are agonizingly dim. Fortunately I have remembered the my course toward the west garden, the area wherein I am to meet Draco.
Silhouettes and frameworks of furniture and portraits are visible. I'm cautious not to ram into them nor knock anything to the floor. As dark as the Manor is, it is equally as quiet.
