The Wizarding World was changing drastically, all to do with the rumoured and pending war. While every adult seemed to be gloomy, Dumbledore was the opposite. Still full of hope and confidence.
All thanks to his secret weapon. Harlow Loughty.
His p...
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Regrets.
They were the most common thoughts in Harlow mind.
Always regret.
She couldn't rid herself off them. After all if someone had done the same things she did, she doubted that she could live with herself - she barely could. That was one thing Harlow couldn't quite grasp. After all her wishes for everything to just be over she was still here. She was finally free and more than capable of ending her own existence. So why was she still here? Why, despite all her regrets and self-hatred, had she denied herself of the end. Honestly she wasn't sure but there was something, some feeling, telling her that it couldn't be over yet. That she wouldn't be at peace if she gave into her urges.
Harlow Loughty had many of regrets. She wished she could take back all of her actions and crimes. The mistakes she made, but that wasn't possible. But it seemed that the girl had a habit of making new situations that she would regret. And although this regret was a lot less serious than the rest, she was still angered the most by it.
Harlow regretted ever opening her mouth, even the minuscule amount that she did yesterday.
Some how the girl had managed to give off the impression that she welcomed others speaking to her. Her icy cold nature apparently wasn't as obvious to everyone around her as she thought it would be. She knew she wasn't that good of an actress and certainly knew that she failed to play the part of the old Harlow Loughty so she couldn't quite work out what gave them that impression. Apparently all her blunt replies weren't enough to turn people away. Instead, they took it as an invitation to keep trying to speak to her.
And leading that line of waiting people, happened to be no other than Lily Evans.
Harlow was already in a foul mood even before leaving her dorm. It was expected. She was, once again and like always, feeling exhausted due to her nightmare riddled sleep. Having terrorising nightmares was a regular nightly occurrence for her. Each night her memories formed their attack and viciously came in from all angles. It would always leave Harlow feeling weak and pathetic. She hated how much the nights shook her. It was almost as if even though she escaped her mind was still back there. Half the time Harlow thought her own mind was just trying to punish her for her crimes. The other half, well she thought she deserved it.
Her eyes scanned the walls around her. The simple off white colouring of the walls and floor had faded to a less than pleasant colour. There were stains of blood that no one had bothered to clear up, mostly on the floor. But amongst that was fresh blood, small droplets that splattered only inches from her foot. Without giving it any thought, Harlow knew exactly where she was. It was a room she had become so familiar with she could navigate it blind. It was none other than the training room. The gruesome, dingy, dirt and blood covered training room.
