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chapter six. on the outside, looking in
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Matilda is hiding.
Tucked away in a tiny, forgotten corner of Hogwarts, she is surrounded by silence. Here, the stone walls are thick enough to muffle the constant hum, and for a moment, Matilda can pretend she's the only person in the entire school. She's found that small spaces make the world feel less overwhelming, especially when her thoughts are loud and her skin is prickling with frustration.
The cause of her current retreat is a moment in Potions class that spiralled too quickly for her to control. It had started simply enough. They were working on a new potion, something complicated involving bubotuber pus and moonstone powder. The Ravenclaw boy next to her—whose name escapes her because she's too upset to remember—was working too close. His elbow bumped hers every time he reached for an ingredient, his parchment rustled too loudly, and his potion bubbled at the same time as hers. It felt like an invasion.
"Stop doing things at the same time as me!" she'd said, rather harshly, drawing a few curious looks from around the room.
The boy looked baffled, his brows knitting together in confusion. "How else am I supposed to do my work?"
His confusion only made her more frustrated. How could he not understand? His movements, his noise, his very presence was overwhelming, making it impossible for her to concentrate.
"You're just too... too much!" Matilda tried to explain, her voice tight with the effort of holding back tears. "I don't like it."
But her classmate still didn't understand, couldn't understand why their parallel movements were so disruptive to her. His "Well, I have to do my work too," was the final straw, spoken with a dismissive shrug.
So, she'd fled, the need for escape driving her until she found this quiet corner of the castle. Matilda knows she's supposed to be learning how to manage these feelings, to find ways to cope with the bustling world around her, but sometimes it's just too hard. She's upset, and when she's upset, hiding feels like the only option.
Her father's response to her letter, telling her she couldn't come home, had hurt more than she expected. Hogwarts is where she needs to be, he'd written, where she can learn and grow. She understands (somewhere deep down) that running away isn't the solution, but that doesn't make staying any easier.
Matilda stays hidden for a while, the silence of her tiny refuge wrapping around her like a cloak. She focuses on the sound of her own breathing, a soft and steady rhythm that helps her feel more grounded, more present. It's a small comfort, but she clings to it, letting it anchor her in the sea of emotions that threatens to pull her under.
