Chapter 10 - The Last Dance

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YEAR OF PUBLICATION: 2013

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"Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day:

It was the nightingale, and not the lark,

That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;

Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree:

Believe me, love, it was the nightingale."

― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

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CHAPTER 10 - The Last Dance


~ R ~



"Renee? Renee..."

Jamila tried to wake Renee up, poking her arm timidly, as if that could elicit a response from the slumbering girl. She had been been wallowing in self-pity since the previous night and did not get to sleep until the last ounce of energy in her body was gone, her eyes sore from venting her frustration out on reading a book written in runic symbols. It was about three in the morning when she finally fell asleep.

"Wake up, Renee! Happy Christmas! It's half past eleven. Shouldn't you be getting ready?" Jamila reminded.

To avoid having to explain her lack of enthusiasm, Renee forced herself to get up. Remembering her utmost misfortune yesterday, she rubbed her temple to ease her throbbing headache, then thought of disposing herself in the library for the whole afternoon.

But then again, even Madam Pince might be preparing for the ball. I'm pathetic.

"Thank you so much for the bracelet! I'll wear it tonight," Jamila said cheerfully as she laid her make-up and accessories on her bed.

"No problem, you're welcome," Renee replied almost hoarsely whilst straightening her duvet.

"Oh, and your gifts are the only ones left under the Christmas tree. Everybody else got theirs. I've gathered them for you! You have quite a lot," she grinned reassuringly.

"Ok, thanks. I'll go check 'em out."

"By the way, Professor Snape asked me about you. I told him you were still asleep." Jamila said. Renee's heart raced immediately; she did not want to have to face him today. She did not want to get scolded for leaving the Slytherin dancers hanging, nor hear his likely disdain for her gifts to him.

"What does he want?" Renee asked, trying not to sound nervous.

"I don't know. I reckon you do. He looked... odd," Jamila shrugged. Renee was determined to avoid the man at all costs, no matter how badly she wanted to see his handsome face or hear his beautiful voice.

"He always looks odd." Renee smirked.

"Touché," Jamila grinned, but seemed to notice her distress. "Are you really all right, Renee?"

"Yeah."

After taking a quick shower and fixing herself, Renee went to the common room and plopped her arse down beside their Christmas tree, relieved to see that the place was almost deserted. She spotted a couple of boxes stacked up together, all with her name on it, making her heart swell. In all her previous Christmases, she had only been getting a single present from her dear godfather, and now she had... eight. Despite her seemingly constant bad luck, she managed to smile at that.

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