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Professor's cared a lot less about curfew when hardly any students were staying in the castle anyway.

It seemed, the only person actively patrolling the corridors was Filch— poor squib never got a night off. As he passed me with my disillusionment charm cast over me, I wondered when he slept; whether he slept.

He hunched past me, grumbling some incoherent words under his breath as he turned the corner. Despite his lack of notice of me, I had pressed my back against the cold stone wall until I was sure he was gone.

I continued my way out of the castle— cutting my usual route short as I passed through one of the many back exits leading onto the grounds.

The air was cold, wind biting as soon as I stepped outside. I didn't expect anything else in December, though. And, so, I wrapped my coat around my body a little tighter, fixed the beanie on my head and buried my hands in my pocket.

One hand playing with the little piece of parchment in it, fiddling and scrunching it up more so than it already was before.

The other holding my wand tightly.

I left the castle behind but stayed close enough to still feel the astronomy tower looming over me— as if it was its own entity watching over me. As if it had eye's up there not wavering from my timid form, walking down the dirt path leading further away from it.

Some strange, usually tugged away part of my body felt comforted by the thought. Yet, I didn't turn back to even glance at it.

Instead, I came to a halt, wind rustling in the trees to my right and over the snow-covered grounds all around me, a singular howl in the distance echoing through the night.

The sounds my steps had made in the snow faded, and I exhaled loudly, my warm breath visible in the cold surrounding me as I took the parchment out of my pocket.

I knew what it said on there— knew what I had scribbled down in the heat of the moment, with my eyes brimming with tears while I struggled to blink them away; my breath heavy and my mind filled with memories of my mother.

After all, it was one of the few things she had taught us.

And for some reason, my sister's words had resonated with me — so much so that I didn't feel like I could deal with the upcoming wave of anxiety any other way.

So, I did what my mother had taught me to do when there were things to deal with; Whipped out a quill and ink, found a piece of parchment and began writing.

However much time I needed of simple stream of consciousness writing that enabled me to get it all out there without anyone noticing how weak I truly felt.

Not often, but sometimes, doing so revealed unconscious worries I never even focused on at all, and while that might be even more overwhelming at the time, it helped immensely to let all the built-up tension out.

It was like that today, Dumbledore and the task on my mind while I realised I had no plan to get that music box anywhere near his office without being seen.

While there was no way I'd be able to come up with anything useful while my mind was cluttered with everything else — like it was now — I knew I'd be much more capable of doing so after this.

And as I stood in the cold, the parchment in-between my fingertips; my eyes closed as I listened to the howling of the wind, I took a deep breath and enjoyed the feeling of the fresh air before unfolding the parchment.

I scanned the page, making no effort to actually read anything I had written down earlier, and merely identified a few words;

Mother,
Gwen,
Dark Lord,
Harry Potter,
fuck,
task,
Dumbledore,
Draco Malfoy

It felt like a glimpse of what was going on inside my head; that and a whole lot more shits, and fucks, and various other curse words of my choice.

It was a mess– quite frankly, one I was unsure of what to do with other than letting go of the overwhelming feeling by continuing to follow my mother's advice.

The simple thought of her made me sigh heavily, eyes closing once more as I fished for the wand in my pocket. In one swift motion, I held it in my right hand; the parchment in my left hand stretched far away from my body.

"Incendio," I muttered, just about enough conviction in my voice to set my written words on fire.

Watching the parchment slowly burn to a crisp, its edges darkening before the remainders of the ashes crumbled towards the snow-covered ground.

The growing flame illuminating my face and immediate surroundings in an orange hue, warming me slightly and giving me a sense of comfort I hadn't felt much in the past few months.

It felt good, letting go of what had bothered me for months now. It also felt like I was with my mother again after an equally long time. And while she wasn't here physically — there was no way she could be — at least in my head, she was standing right by my side.

Holding my shoulder like she would when I was a mere child.

It was bittersweet, knowing the only way I'd see her again was doing what The Dark Lord had asked of me; and doing it right— doing it soon.

With another sigh, I dropped the remaining parchment and watched it burn to a crisp within seconds during the fall, nothing but black ashes against the white snow; the only reason I could even see the moon stood right above me,

On my way back to the castle, I felt better— free and, just for a moment, relaxed. Truly like I had just burnt all my worries away. Metaphorically, I did.

Which is why I decided not to waste a single thought on any of it until I woke up the next morning. 

A/N: emotional Adreanna: unlocked

also why does it feel like someone was watching her :)

Hope you liked this, see you! <3

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