Obliviate My Rebellion {Book 3}

27. Valentine's Day mayhem

The next morning I found out why Voldemort was so happy.

We were all sat at breakfast, eating as normal with Sam latching onto us ('I have no friends in Hufflepuff yet, and I'm not being that loser on her own') and Alia telling us some stupid joke Cole had said in a letter (It was of course a pun about death, his morbid humour hadn't gone).

Then the owls descended onto us, and Alia snatched Hermione's copy of the Daily prophet and everything changed. "I want to see if the lead singer of the weird sisters is divorced or not." She whined as she struggled with Hermione over the paper.

"Alia, the lead singer is in his twenties." Hermione said. "Get over it, you're thirteen plus he doesn't know you exist."

Alia narrowed her eyes at Hermione, and slapped the back of Hermione's hand. "That is the worst thing you could ever say to a band fangirl, you peasant. Give it to me."

She snatched it fiercly, and smoothed out the paper to read the headline. Alia let out a yelp, and to my horror tears were threatening to flow.

"Alia?" Sam asked sharply, grabbing onto the younger girl's shoulder. "What is it?"

"The f-f-fucking bastard!" Alia whispered, her voice full of pain. "H-He did it."

Sam snatched the paper from Alia, and all of us leaned over to see what was so horrifying, as Gennie put a comforting arm around Alia.

MASS AZKABAN BREAKOUT--HAS BLACK INSPIRED THIS CATASTROPHE?

My heart sank in my chest. No, he couldn't have.

But as my eyes scanned the list of escapees, at the bottom was a sentence that sent chills through my spines. And the youngest escapee was Cameron Wilde, 19 sentenced last January for the use of all three unforgivable curses on his family members.

And next to the caption was a picture of Cameron's mugshot, his dark eyes hooded with bags and a dangerous smirk on his face. The kind of smirk which said, I could kill you if I wanted to.

I looked to Sam, to see that she was shaking, her eyes clenched shut and looked near tears. "Sam?" I asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

"I-It h-happens s-sometimes," Sam mumbled. "C-Can you t-take m-me o-out for air?"

I put an arm around her shoulders, and helped ease her out of the bench. We walked slowly but surely out of the hall, as I had a feeling Sam wouldn't want people to see her like this. We sat down in a secluded part of the corridor, where people wouldn't come down for at least half an hour.

"Shh, it's alright." I said, putting an arm around Sam. "It's okay, breathe."

"I know I have to breath." Sam snapped, sounding more like herself. "I have these a lot, you know."

She started breathing in and out slowly, and clenched and un-clenched her fists a few times. She suddenly grabbed my hand, and I made patterns on them in an attempt to calm her. I had no idea what to do in this sort of situation, so I was glad in a way Sam knew what to do.

We sat there for a further ten minutes, until Sam slumped backwards and let out a long breath. "Well that wasn't as bad as I expected."

"Do you get panic attacks a lot then?" I asked anxiously. In all the time I had known Sam, her or Cole had never brought up panic attacks or having them. But then I thought--why would they? It was a very personal and private thing to share.

Sam shrugged, and finally let go of my hand. "I used to a bit when I was little, but that was when my parents shouted at me for not working hard enough. So I got past the shouting and they went for a few years. After I was forced to join him... Well I get one at least a week, I just happened to be lucky over Christmas."