Plot Twist [GEORGE WEASLEY]

63.

Death Eaters broke out of Azkaban two weeks back and the news only had begun to settle. But no former sense of security and safety was restored. It was a world, distinct to the one they lived in all these years. A world of Death Eaters, whose sole goal being to eradicate any hope, joy and freedom. To make the world as dark as their rotting insides.

Along with everyone else, Amara didn't come to terms with her fears and swept them aside, to gather cobwebs. There were more problematic matters to attend to. NEWTs. Death Eaters were brutal and capricious. NEWTs were more so.

Thus far, homework load was thrice the amount they've gotten. It piled up in their minds and bedside tables much to their distress. Some deemed it an impossible feat. Some rolled up their sleeves and propelled themselves forward in might despite fearing it too.

Amara was the latter. Like Hermione Granger, she had acquainted herself with every crevice, subtlety, and sensation of the library. The embittered moans of students. The whispers of those up to no good. The exact moment a book was going to smack her in the head. All those lovely details.

Here she was, in a nook of the library, legs up to her chest. The January rain battered the window a foot from her seat. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. She skimmed the text she wanted to reference in her essay. Professor McGonagall had emphasised that the class immerse themselves in the essay.

Provided that her brain didn't meander, she would've finished it promptly. She wouldn't have started it a day before the due date. Bottom lip caught in her teeth, she fought the nagging thoughts of destroying the dark object.

Oh, yes. When the news of the Death Eaters broke out (no pun intended), she felt urged to destroy it. The dark object couldn't exist, unprotected, unjailed, when the Death Eaters were out at large. They were as lethal as each other.

She had multiple conversations with her friends about destroying it as soon as possible. It was imperative. Gina didn't agree, imploring her to slow down and not rush into it. She had to determine a safe, effective way of destruction.

At Amara's protests, she warned her of the unintended and unknown effects of destroying it. They knew nothing of its workings. It could've consequences she could never rectify.

That shut her up. However, the feeling remained. She reckoned it was a enchantment brought on by the possibly sentient dark object. It ached for its own destruction and riddance more than anyone else did.

She understood it. Howbeit, it should understand she had to study for exams which were important to her. What a selfish dark object. Bringing her attention back to the quill in her clasp, she mumbled a curse. There she goes again. Getting distracted.

"The Unlaws of Transfiguration..." she read, voice low to not prick up Madam Pince's ears.

"Don't tell me, you're suffering too."

Startling, she snatched her gaze at the person.

" Oh, yes, I am."

They hadn't hung out in days. She kept to her books and he was enthralled by his business. Their motivations didn't intersect. Recently, she had brought him his second week's worth of candy from Honeydukes. The precise moment the Daily Prophet owls delivered the bleak reality of the Death Eaters' jailbreak, he pranced up to her, unaware of the chaos unravelling about to inform her he solved the second riddle. Other than those instances, they didn't stop to chat.

It was a shame.

"I would've thought you got this done the moment she gave it. In class, you were so excited to get to it, weren't you?" George asked, searching a nearby shelf.