blood must shed for time to reset

chapter 6

( Love can co-exist with hatred. Death by juxtaposition )

   —"I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY
everyone cares so much!" Peter exclaimed at dinner that evening, his face crumpled, and his demeanour frustrated.

    Sirius paused his conversation, turning to the Pettigrew, "Mate shut up, this is the most interesting thing to happen all year!"

   Remus and James, who'd been immersed in the gossip, stifled a laugh, yet Peter blanked the pair, "Last week, you set fire to Minnie's hair... how is some Slytherin boy running away more exciting than that?"

     The Black leant in, "This isn't some Slytherin boy, this is Avery. A future death-eater. All these years, he's been a blood traitor, it's fucking ironic."

   Marlene exhaled, being sat near the marauders, "Its kinda sad, really, that he had to hide his beliefs."

   "Don't feel sorry for the fucker, it doesn't excuse his past actions." Mary declared, her tone hostile but for an understandable reason.

   Lily rose from her seat, "You're right, the boy deserves no pity. Part of me wants to hunt him down myself — he shouldn't get a free pass. They're just going to forget about what he did and when the time comes, and we win this war, he won't be punished. Not like the rest of them. Not like Mulciber and... and Snape."

   "Snivellus." James shuddered, "Don't speak of such evil."

  "Whatever," the girl said, pushing her ginger hair to the side — making her side profile perfectly capturing in rays of rose blush and porcelain flesh. "I'm off."

  "Where?" the Potter narrowed his eyes.

    Remus groaned, "Stop being so openly jealous Prongs, it's giving me second hand embarrassment."

   "He's right, and for your information, i'm off to the library. I've got a book date with Circe."

   "How dare she." James shook his head, "Stealing my girl right from under my grasp. Sneaky, but can I blame her?"

   Peter looked around, "Mate, who exactly are you talking to?"

     Lily snorted, "James just talks and thinks the world stops to listen to him." she bent down, palms pressed against the wooden table, "News flash, Potter, it doesn't."

   And with a smile at his reaction, she took her leave. James could only sit there, mouth agape, feeling his cheeks heat crimson. For ten minutes, the remaining students made a game of poking the boy in different areas, the winner the one who could get him to respond. In the end, it was Sirius, having took the daunting step of prodding the 'wild Potter locks'.

   James flung his arms in the air, batting Sirius away with extreme dramatics. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? Get your filthy hand away from the mane."

  "The mane? You're not a lion." Mary snickered.

  "Actually, figuratively speaking, we're all lions — being in Gryffindor and all that." Peter chimed in.

   The curly-haired witch fired back instantly, "Hey wormy boy, suck my dick."

  "Someone's hostile tonight." the Pettigrew quipped.

   "To you? Always."

    Meanwhile, in the Hogwarts Library, bundled between literature and murky lighting that crisped yellow, Circe sat. She had her copy of the bell jar infront, and with a bleeding quill, she kept adding to the lines of messy abbreviations and midnight comments. It was her favourite novel, for beneath the words of Esther and the 50s, laid many hidden meanings and themes to the depressing story. It created this new pathway of illicit wants, and the inexorable way Esther confined to a patriarchal society.