✔️ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎 → ℎ. 𝑝𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦

04 | S T I T C H E S

I can't replace it from my mind,
I just replay it, overthink it                
— all the time.

   Three of Slughorn's parties in a row, Ember did manage to skip. Two of them she owed Fred and George's Skiving Snackbox, one she'd managed to set up Quidditch practice before Harry could book the field. It seemed like her brother wasn't to keen on going to this spectacular meetings as well, but that alone didn't make Ember to go.

   Malfoy had fallen silent, not only around Ember, but like all the time. His attempt to murder Dumbledore with that cursed necklace was rather poor, but then again when had Malfoy ever been a great thinker? Ember choose to not get on his nerves; the longer the young assassin would need to succeed, the longer she had to figure out her own plan.

   The midst of November, the first Quidditch match for Hufflepuff took a pleasant turn. Hufflepuff defeated Ravenclaw two hundred and twenty to fourty and Ember's new team saved themselves the second range straight after Gryffindor. With a cynical pleasure, Ember noticed that Harry's team wasn't even close to the glorious state it had withheld for the past five years. Mediocre beaters, mediocre chasers, Harry of course still at his best — and Ron.

   Even though the days before Gryffindors first match, Ron was a wreck, during the game he was a pure genius, and Ember had to admit she was — against her own will — more than impressed, and had been almost willing to congratulate him, if that wouldn't have meant she would have needed to talk to him in first step.

   "Slughorn's party." A rough voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and Ember looked up from her essay, spotting Draco Malfoy's pale face almost shining against the dark leathery books in the shelves surrounding him. "The Christmas party. You have to take me there."

   "Why, I won't go", Ember coldly replied, looking back down onto her parchment, trying to figure out what she had been up to write next.

   "Oh yes, you will!", Malfoy hissed, letting his slender body fall into an empty chair next to Ember. She chose to ignore him. "And I'll be your date. You'll help me sneak in the poison for Dumbledore. Slughorn has ordered a bottle of met for the old twat. You'll help me to switch it."

   "I need more time", Ember spoke in a plain voice. "You'll have to wait for the new year—"

   Long flingers pressed into her jaw, forcing her to look up into furious cold eyes. "I don't care what you need! I won't risk my life or my parents' just because you're getting cold feet!"

   Ember tried to speak, but the grip around her jaw was too tight to move it even for a mutter.

   "You'll take me to this party", he whispered in a sharp tone, his voice dangerously low. "You'll do as I tell you, or I'll bring you back to my dearest aunt, so she can show you what happens to those disobeying!"

   Something in the depths of her consciousness growled; ignoring the pain, Ember's eyes narrowed to slits. It would have been easy to get him off of her ... — well, it should have been. But staring into Malfoy's eyes, the orders from her mind stayed unrecognised by her forces, and panic kicked her in the guts with heavy boots. Why couldn't she attack him?

   "I'll now take my hands off of your pretty little face", Malfoy growled, "and all I want to hear coming over your lips is 'yes Draco, I'm going to the party with you'. Got me?"

   Ember moved her head to a nod the best she could, and slowly she felt Draco's fingers loosen around her bones.

   "Say it!", he spat, leaning closer.

   "Yes Draco, I'm going to the party with you", Ember pressed through gritted teeth.

   "Good girl", he breathed, pushing himself out of his chair, and without another word, he vanished around a row of bookshelves.

   Gone was her concentration, and with trembling hands, Ember rolled up her parchment. With a flick of her wand, she wanted the books to fly themselves back into place, but halfway they lost their will and with a thud they hit the floor.

   Catching a scolding glare from Madame Pince, Ember sighed and went to pick the books up.

   "Let me help you", a well known voice right behind her quietly spoke, and just a second later the books lifted from the ground to find their places in the high shelves.

   With tensed shoulders, Ember turned around, hazel eyes met saphire blue. A sheepish smile on his lips, Ron had his wand still in his hand, running the fingers of his other one through his hair.

   "Thanks", Ember muttered, lifting up her bag from the empty chair she earlier that evening had placed it onto.

   "Oh, nevermind", he replied, looking uncomfortable as he shifted his feet. "So — erm — how are you lately? Haven't seen you around for a while?"

   "Fine, fine", Ember said, cheeks turning hot. "Lot of stuff to do. Homework ... Quidditch ... you know ..." She rubbed her neck, feeling the old sensation of awkwardness overwhelm her, as the scent of apple pie and cotton sheets tingled her nose. "Talking 'bout Quidditch, you really did a great job down on the pitch."

   "Same I can say 'bout you", Ron replied, but the grin he shortly wore, faded as quickly as it had appeared. "Emmie, c'mon, you know you can tell me what's bothering you", he then said, and Ember's eyes lowered, fixating her knees as if they were the most interesting thing she'd ever seen. "You can tell me what they've done to you."

   Her lips opened and closed, like a fish on dry ground she gasped for words, but all she got were unsorted letters whirling through her head. Ron's arm lifted, and the shadows inside her started winding; a shiver ran down her spine, his fingers so close from touching her. Her darkness growled, it left her shaken, and she felt it crumble —

   "Won-Won!"

   The high-pitched voice widened the gap between Ember and Ron, and a second later a mane of long dark blonde curls covered Ron's face, a pair of lips pressed against his.

   A sharp pain shot through Ember's chest, leaving a pressure like her heart got stuck under the Knight Bus' wheels. She wanted to grab inside her ribcage, ripping out whatever was mauling her insides, but instead she kept just standing there, unable to move, her eyes burning by the sight given to her.

   Seconds, awfully long seconds passed, before finally she was able to turn around and run, not stopping before she reached the great oak portal, where she stepped into the darkness and became one with the shadows.

—