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CHAPTER ELEVEN —— reporting live from hogsmaede
( Hogwarts )
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When hell is open, all the monsters come out to play. Like a gate to her own soul, when hell is open all the devil's play pals to residence in Verity's soul, scorching her from the inside out. Like fire upon more fire and no ice or water in sight to diminish a flame frying at one's mind, the devil never stops. It just keeps going — always and always in a circle that never stops. Keep shifting onwards and onwards, forwards until the end of time but never would her mind stop speaking — just for one second, for one moment, just for a small minuscule minute, she wants it to all stop, for it to be quiet, silent. She wants the whispers to stop whispering, and the screams to stop screaming, the waves to stop rustling and the fire to stop creaking. She wants to be able to touch somebody without the feeling of their worst terrors and biggest nightmares flying through her mind in autopilot, she wants to be able to sit by somebody and let them tell her what scares them the most without already knowing where the conversation will shift. It is so much to ask for Verity to want to be able to hug her friend without the worst howls and sounds of the scariest nights of her life playing in her mind, to be able to kiss somebody she likes and actually enjoy it, without fear of what her mind shows her — to be able to walk through a crowded stadium and not wince every time somebody's shoulder smacks against her own, or to be able to hold somebody's hand for long periods of time without the feeling of mind and soul combustion.
The second Hogsmaede weekend came with a bundle of snow that wrapped around the walkways and doorways like a white blanket, entrapping them and forcing Verity to practically hop behind Hermione on her way towards the Three Broomsticks. She had wanted to stay at Hogwarts with Fay, who had been in the Hospital Wing after a particularly bad full moon the previous night, but Hermione had practically dragged her away from the werewolf girl's bedside, begging her for help so she would not have to go alone to meet Rita Skeeter (Verity's eyebrows had perked up at the name, and Hermione had convinced her to come on promise that she could say whatever she wanted to Skeeter as long as she stayed the entire time).
