iii. Hatchling

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PAPER CONFINES

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PAPER CONFINES.
03. / Hatchling

      At dawn, Amoret crept from her bedchamber to the common room, clinging to the spiraling walls of the staircase like a girl on Christmas morning. It was a narrow reminder of home—rushing downstairs at first light, her cat Petra trailing behind with her tail between her legs—but the nervous thrill of what awaited her was different. She scratched behind Petra's ear with a sigh. When had she stopped anticipating midnight traipses with her sisters into the moorland? And when had she become another girl likely mislead by the guile of Tom Riddle? She might have been a fool for thinking her position made her an anomaly; that the head girl was above being tricked into easy credence. Maybe there were plenty of others he pulled for clandestine evenings in his library, waxing poetic about their abilities and telling stories of whatever folklore he liked best that week. Maybe the viper had learned his script, and played the role of doe.

Or maybe she was stupidly untrusting.

The morning in the library passed without incident or excitement. Amoret kept her eye on the door for Tom, barely focused on her textbooks, which she'd surely memorized twice already, and her anticipation grew at every footstep that pattered by.

After what felt like a decade of flipping pages and lazily scrawling tidbits of information into her notebook, a pair of shoes stopped behind her desk.

Amoret spun in her seat.

"Morning," said Nadya.

Two pairs of shoes, then. It made her feel horrible to be disappointed.

Colette was physically nonpareil beside Nadya, blonde curls rolled to her chin, cheeks flushed with autumn cold or the rouge she'd borrowed from her aunt and never given back. It was uneven across her pale cheeks, but suited her pink peacoat. Her hazel eyes were thinned by a smile, and even with her weight leaning on her right leg, she was at least half a head taller than Amoret in a pair of last year's sling-backs.

She pressed a kiss to Amoret's cheek. "Banks! I have missed you this week."

Nadya snorted. "She didn't go to war."

"She may as well have! Those meetings are too much work. And with all the students turning up in the hospital..." She wiped a stray curl from Amoret's face. "They say the mandrakes will not be ready until spring. I can't imagine the difficultness."

"Difficulty," Amoret corrected, smiling a bit.

"I hope I'm next," Nadya said with a yawn. "I've got four exams before Christmas and I wouldn't mind sleeping through them without consequence."

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