𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙤𝙣 𝙍𝙤𝙤𝙢 || 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘰 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺

Chapter XXIX

My data is better than what my internet used to be, holy fuck. this is heaven.

There I was. Enveloped in the eery silence of the castle of Hogwarts during Winter break. Luckily, they allowed students to stay for the end of the semester, the only problem I face now is the end of the school year. I'll have to go home, then.

I shook off the thoughts and went back to reading my book, which I'd just started only an hour ago and was almost half-way through. I've previously found out about my fear of being alone, which has just now been accompanied with the revelation that the solution is reading. I put myself into a world where none of my surroundings play into, so in the moment of reading, I don't feel alone.

After few hours passed, I finished reading, which caused my mind to recollect where I was and my ears start to ring in retalliation of the silence. In stubborness, I decided against occupying my time wisely, and pulled out a piece of paper to begin to write to Draco. Knowing myself, if I didn't start in that moment and discard the bad letters I would inevitable conjure up, it'd take me weeks of procrastinating to actually do it.

Dear Draco--

Too formal.

Dearest Draco--

Too romantic.

To Malfoy--

Not specific enough.

To--

Not enough words.

Draco--

Too threatening.

Bitchboy--

Too funny.

Hey--

Wait, that's not too bad..

Hey, bitchboy--

Nevermind.

I sat the quill to the side, and stared at it as a way to try and force an idea into my mind. I was half-tempted to yell, "Give me an idea, damn you!" At the quill, but the thought of someone hearing me yell to myself didn't appeal to me.

Then it occured to me. The instrument I was writing with had initials on them that didn't belong to me. I still had Draco's quill. A smirk appeared on my face.

Draco,
How does it feel to know I'm writing this with your quill? One should think ahead before leaving an enchanted quill out by someone else. It better not still be enchanted, or this will be a bloody weird dream in the future. For the question you asked earlier today, about what I'll do while you're gone.. the answer is no. I don't plan to steal from him, however if it comes to, I may. Anyways, how's your break going so far?

I leaned back in my chair with a satisfied grin. Suddenly, a peck on my window caused me to look over. It was Mellow, my owl. She's a grey and white-feathered bird, her beauty captured me as soon as I saw her at Diagon Ally.

I got up and opened my window, allowing her access into my room, thinking nothing of it, since it's cold outside.

The owl immediately took solice on the top of my desk, sitting just before my letter, luckily not on top of it. "Careful," I warned. "Ink's still wet."

Mellow made a cute little pitter-patter with her feet in place to let me know she wasn't going to step on it, and I just smiled in return. I sat down at my desk again, pulling my chair up so I could get closer to the paper I'd been previously writing on.

Unexpectedly, Mellow hooted (more like screamed), causing me to jump at the unexpected noise interupting the silence. With that, she quickly bent down and tried to pick up the letter with her beak. She failed about three grabs before finally getting a good grip on it and slowly beginning to ascend into the air.

"Mellow!" I hollered, still in shock of what she was doing. It only settled in after she flew out the window. I shook my head disappointedly, but took it as a sign not to write to him first. She'll most likely drop it in a bird bath, or the lake, when she realizes the burden of carrying it around in the cold Winter sky.

I shut my window as a hard-headed way to say, "Fuck you," to the gorgeous owl. The first appearance she makes in a while and she manages to piss me off. Damn birds.

After that lovely incident, I went down to the common and read the books that were gently resting on the shelves. I, obviously, didn't read them all, as I had just finished my second one when I started to get hungry. I left to the canteen to get some food when I was stopped.

"I told you we should have just stayed home," Muffled voices spoke from the kitchen. I slowed my pace and walked softly, hoping not to reveal myself.

"Come on, we'll just grab the stuff and go. We'll be back before anyone even realizes we're gone."

There was a loud crash, signalling that something fell. I jumped with a small squeel, but the reverb of the crash had prevented me from being heard.

"Now look what you did, George."

"Me? I wasn't the one who grabbed it."

I slowly stepped forward to look around the wall and see two gingers staring down at a pile of pans on the ground by their feet.

"You were the one who dropped it."

Slowly, I took another step forward, and ended up stepping on a fallen water bottle. It crunched under my foot and I backed up instantly.

"Oh, you little--"

"--What was that?"

I winced, but decided I'd stay quiet and not answer the boy as I backed up inch-by-inch.

"Who's there?" The other one called, realizing what his brother was talking about.

"George," Whispered one. "I don't think we're alone."

"Well, why do ya supposed that?" The other one replied rhetorically.

Suddenly, without warning, the two appeared in front of me. "WE'VE CAUGHT YA!" One of them yelled.

"Shh," The other one hushed.

"Aren't they Slytherin?"

"What of it?"

"Might mean we're the ones caught."

"Oh."

"Uhh... hi?" I awkwardly interjected.

"Right."

"I'm Fred!"

"You idiot, don't tell them that. We're not even supposed to be here."

"Oops."

I refused to tell them my name. "Weasleys?" I asked.

"She knows us!" Not-Fred panicked.

"As she should, George." Fred winked.

"I'll just be on my way," I mumbled as I turned around. The two jumped in front of me from both sides.

"Not so fast," Fred spoke first.

"Yeah, we've got to know you aren't going to say anything," George spoke rhymically after.

"I just wanted food, man," I pleaded. "I won't say anything, I don't even know what you're doing."

"We're getting pans so we can make-- OW!"

"FRED!" George smacked his arm, "Shut up."

"Oh, sorry."

"Do you know where the snacks are?" I asked, ignoring the violent smack.

"What kind..?" Fred asked.

"Doritos?"

The two quickly pointed to a cabinet in the back and I smiled at them, "Thank you!!"