It was the dead of night. She rose from her bed, careful not to disturb her roommates. Silently, she moved through the corridors of the castle, gliding across the grounds with a glassy-eyed determination. The hatchet is where she knew it would be, toppled against the side of the grounds-keepers hut. With hushed precision, she approached the roosting animals, cooing softly in their sleep, and with the same silent swiftness, she became their executioner.
Rolling over, I opened my eyes and yawned at the dawn of another day.
Tom, I woke up with blood on my jumper and fresh mud on my shoes. I don't remember at all how it got there...
Tom, Hagrid's upset because his chickens were killed. What kind of person would do such a thing?...
Tom, Moaning Myrtle said she saw me in her bathroom last night but I swear I wasn't there, was I?...
I feel more and more detached from myself. Like my body's been to places I don't remember and done things I don't recall.
"It is happening, Y/N. I am so proud of your accomplishments. Your work and loyalty to me will surely pay off."
You're the one doing all of this?
"No, Y/N. You are."
YOU ARE READING
Blame it on the Nargles | George Weasley x Fem Reader
FantasyWhat if there was an addition to the strangest wizarding family around? Meet Y/n Lovegood, twin sister to Luna Lovegood. She's got her Hogwarts letter in hand and is ready to have a trouble-free education, but that can be difficult when you're frien...
