𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐍 | 𝐇.𝐏. | 𝟏𝟖+

𝟎𝟎𝟖 - 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞

Chapter 9 will be out once I reach 125 votes on this chapter. Also, for those who don't know how to vote: press the star button <3

TWO WEEKS pass and Jade feels close to tearing apart. She walks out of Theo, Blaise, and Draco's bedroom. Pansy's hand is locked in hers.

We shouldn't be doing this, is all she wants to say. But she keeps her mouth wisely shut and just smiles. Because that's what they expect from her.

Dapples of moonlight shine through the cracks in the curtains of the corridor and she can still feel the whispers of devious loathsome plans caressing her ears. A shiver spider-crawls down her spine and she squeezes her eyes shut, tries to control her breathing.

"Do not freak out," Pansy says, tightening the grip she holds her hand with. Jade wants to laugh.

Do not freak out.

It's like they made her the problem. She is no such thing.

They walk down the spiraling staircase, their footsteps a quiet whisper on the floorboards. The only thing she hears is the frantic beating of her heart. It thuds loudly, bellowing between her ears.

You are in charge of this. You haven't lost control.

What a stupid mantra.

They slither back into their bedroom where Granger is snoring loudly in the back.

***

Dawn rolls in and Jade shoots up from the bed. She hasn't closed an eye all night, keeps thinking about what Draco said to the five of them.

I don't want to do this. They will hate us more, she wanted to tell them but didn't. Because she's a coward. Has always been one and they know.

Her heart hammers and her palms feel clammy. She wipes them on her sweatpants, tries to rid herself of the sweaty feeling. It makes her feel out of control. She does not like to be out of control.

She clicks open the bathroom door and splashes water onto her face.

I can talk them out of it. I have to.

She grips the sink tightly as if holding onto it is the only thing that will keep her from drowning in the vortex she's currently swimming in.

No. No. No.

She puts on her robes and stalks out of the dorm to the common room. She's glad it's early. Nobody's here yet. It gives her time to think, to get out of it.

She walks to the wall where the calendar hangs. It's a simple – what she suspects – Muggle calendar, plain and brown because wizarding ones are enchanted to show the weather predictions of that day on its box. This calendar doesn't rain, so it's Muggle.

October 14th.

17 days until it happens.

Her stomach lurches.

I can talk them out of it. They will listen.

But deep down, she knows how resilient they are, even though she hates to admit it.

***

She walks through the hallway alone and it's hard to keep herself from screaming at the other students that surround her. They are so cheery. So light. So untroubled.

She resents it, wonders about the last time she felt like that. She thinks for what feels like a while. She can't come up with anything. A sour taste smothers the back of her throat.