𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 | 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲 BOOK ONE

seventeen.

"I told Justin to stay in his dorm, you know, because he's muggle-born."

"But why would Elizabeth want to attack muggle-borns? You think she's the Heir of Slytherin?"

"She's a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that's a mark of a dark wizard. She's nothing like her brother. She's a freak. She's the Girl you-know-who Feared, after all."

Whispers like these weren't hard to come by, anymore.

Rumors were filling Hogwarts more and more by the day. Each one more ridiculous than the next, but all of them leading back to the same sentence repeated by one another.

She's nothing like her brother, everyone would say.

After I had blown up during that dueling club, Dumbledore had isolated me completely. Pansy and Daphne had to have their things removed to another room, leaving me alone with Nyx. A teacher would fetch me for classes, where I would sit near the teacher's desk for the whole class, then they would walk me to my next to become the next teacher's problem. During meal-times, I had to eat alone in my room where a House-elf would bring me whatever I desired to eat. Every waking moment of my daily routine was now scheduled and supervised.

I'd never felt so alone than being isolated away from my friends and family.

The voice in the walls did not stop either. I would hear it, every few days, it wanting to Kill or needing blood. It would slither through the walls, urging me for the command. But I was questioning my own magic and abilities instead of whatever it was.

The weeks passed through, and I was withering around into a sad soul.

On one particular night, I had been playing with the ballerina figurine Harry once got me when my door opened. I found the Head Girl, pale and scared to face me, and she explained to me that Dumbledore wanted to see me in his office. McGonagall was outside the common room doors waiting for me.

When I had went out the face Professor McGonagall, the woman took one look at me and I saw the guilt on her face. She had leaned down to fix the green ribbon around my collared shirt and adjust my blazer more carefully. Her kind expression was perhaps more relaxing than I would ever admit.

She touched my freckled cheeks, as if holding my face like fragile glass. "You sweet, sweet girl," She whispered to me so softly. Her thumbs swiped under the dark circles around my eyes. "Don't ever let anyone break you."

I didn't understand where that had come from, but I knew it was from the heart. She always had a warmth that none of the other teachers had.

Was I deserving of her kindness? I was not sure anymore.

I had brushed her hands away, and decided to lead the way. "Already broken," I muttered back.

Dumbledore's office wasn't as grand as I pictured it to be. The place seemed to be a memorial with how many paintings of past Headmasters littered the walls. There were collections of odd trinkets and such, but none of them I lingered on for too long.