❀ 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝓉𝓌ℯ𝓃𝓉𝓎 ℴ𝓃ℯ ❀

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❤︎𝓦𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓲𝓿𝓮, 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓼𝓽, 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓾𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮❤︎


In the nocturnal embrace of weariness, I am ensnared, a captive of troubled thoughts that refuse to yield to slumber's sweet embrace. A heavy sigh escapes my lips, punctuating the restless air as I cast aside the embrace of my covers. Donning my robe with a graceful sweep, I navigate the dimly lit corridors, heedless of the grumbling protests of the stout lady guarding the entrance. My destination, as it often is in moments of restlessness, is the tranquil courtyard. Stepping into the frigid grip of January's breath, I seek solace in the crisp night air, hoping it may bring respite to my agitated spirit.

With closed eyes and head leaning wearily against the cool stone window frame, I perch upon one of the grand arches, gazing inwardly to find solace amidst the jumble of thoughts that assail my weary mind. In the midst of this contemplative silence, I become aware of another presence, sensed before seen in the velvety darkness. Footsteps cease a few paces away, and as I slowly open my eyes, I am met with the piercing gaze of the Potions Master. A tacit understanding passes between us, unspoken words suspended in the ethereal space.

Wordlessly, he closes the remaining distance, never relinquishing his hold on my gaze. His form materializes in the moon's soft luminescence, weariness etched upon his countenance, mirroring my own burdened state. His words, when they come, carry the weight of sincerity.

"Miss Sinclair, I must offer my sincerest apology. My behavior in both the classroom and this evening was wholly inappropriate."

Though he averts his eyes, I perceive the gravity that accompanies his words.

"I allowed my emotions to override reason, taking your words too deeply to heart. It was an unjust response, and for that, I too must extend my apologies, Professor Snape. Furthermore, the meeting with my parents left me in a state of agitation, fueling my impulsiveness."

A deep sigh escapes me as I draw my legs closer, seeking comfort within my embrace. I notice the professor's inquisitive gaze, silently urging me to divulge the source of my turmoil.

"Today, I visited my parents in the confines of Azkaban. They summoned me, or rather, issued their orders. They demanded that I procure legal representation, challenge their verdict, and secure their release from that accursed place. Can you believe it? After all they have done to me, to my brother, to the world, they have the audacity to assume I would lift a finger to aid their cause. And to add insult to injury, they reproach me for my perceived ingratitude, citing their supposed sacrifices. But what pierces my heart most deeply is their utter lack of remorse for my brother's demise. They go so far as to assign blame to him, asserting that his fate was a consequence of his own actions, as if his sale to Voldemort was a mere trifle."

Tears well in my eyes as I cast my gaze skyward, seeking solace in the vast expanse. A pregnant silence hangs in the air, pregnant with unspoken truths.

"Do you believe I am justified in my sentiments? Am I within my rights to sever the ties that bind us? They are still my parents, after all."

The touch of the professor's hand upon my shoulder sends a cascade of sensations through me. A tremor of resistance flits through my being as I suppress the urge to lean into the comforting warmth, to momentarily forget the world that surrounds me. Despite the insults and humiliations endured, the sense of security remains unvanquished. It is a peculiar and unsettling ease, one that defies rational explanation. I ought to be wary of granting forgiveness so readily, and yet, it feels strangely fitting.

"Your parents, through their repeated failures, have forsaken their duty towards you. You possess every right to turn away from them, and if you permit me to impart my counsel, you should do just that."

ℒℯ𝓈𝓈ℴ𝓃 ℴ𝒻 ℒ𝒾𝒻ℯ 𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎWhere stories live. Discover now