Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Taking a deep breath, with her hands clutching the sink tightly, she looked in the mirror to see herself – but a version she could not recognise. Well, she could, but she hadn't seen it for a very long time, and it surely wouldn't be the last. She always got this way when she lived a human life, she doesn't know why, but she does. And she hates it. She hates living. She hates being human and everything that comes with it.
Why couldn't she just be normal?
She's screwed everything up now. She just obliviated her Uncle, helped the man that murdered her parents (controlled or not), brushed off her court who were worried for her, and she just fought with the only 'person' who will always be with her.
Shaking her head, she turned the knob for cold water on and cupped it in her hands to scour her face – as if it would remove all her crimes and wrongdoings.
Bringing the hand towel to her face, she took a breath and walked out of the bathroom.
Standing in the room, she could immediately tell Death wasn't there; his presence isn't hard to miss.
Walking over to her bed, she paused as she noticed Helenas' baby blanket neatly folded up and sitting on her dresser. Not wanting to deal with it, she shoved it in a random drawer and flopped on her bed, and started lazily stroking Flora.
"What have I done, Flo? What have I done?" she muttered in despair, to whom seems to be her only companion at the current moment.
Flora got up and head-butted her face, "All is okay, Estelle. Humans eventually come around."
Estelle pouted at Flora, "And if they don't?"
"Then they are imbeciles."
Sometimes Estelle forgot Flora was a Unicorn. And it is widely known they are wise and intelligent creatures.
★
The next morning was awkward, though, that would be an understatement. And everyone in Slytherin house could feel it.
Estelle held her silverware tightly as she tried to ignore her house, court, and Uncle's stare. They were getting on her nerves, and it seemed they realised as they all cautiously looked away. However, her court and Uncle didn't.
"What?" she snapped, placing her fork down, but not her knife; she had learned a few tricks over her centuries of living. Yeah, living – you could call it that.
"Are you okay?" questioned Elijah, who immediately got hit on the back of the head by Pansy with a book.
"Of course, she's not, idiot. Get another brain cell." she screeched as she repeatedly whacked him with her seven hundred page History of Magic book, which made many first years freeze with terror when their eyes first lay upon it.
