When at last I thought I had him forever, he slipped through my fingers again.
When at last I thought I could find that ray of sunshine in the sudden storm, it disappeared behind even darker storm clouds.
There was no way I could continue chasing th...
The nasty nauseous sensation had finally burst through what thin membrane I had managed to conjure through stoic expressions and imaginary consolations as I watched Beatrice storm out the door of the Artefact Room, my sister following her so that she didn't end up doing anything stupid. Venom trickled through my veins, hot and thick, as I finally let the shards fall to the floor at the eventual realization that I couldn't fix the broken pieces after all. Danger and strife were already in my life--and it was no thanks to her.
I thought I could hold it together for the sake of my friends, but this was too much for me to handle.
The inevitable, hard to avoid. The wounds, hard to heal.
"You seem very...tense, Clara."
I glanced up now at the serene face of the Headmaster, my mind still in a churning turmoil of emotions I could not sort. It was hard to process what happened within the last 24 hours--between seeing Beatrice sever what fragile bond there was left with her older sister and witnessing Ben prowling around Knockturn Alley like a reckless little sleuth, I felt like everything was now completely spiralling out of my control. The red that seeped into my vision didn't even fade as I looked up at the last person I wanted to lose my temper at, the one person who was supposed to understand his students and protect them. How could I begin to read this calm demeanour he had when I could barely understand his motives toward me at all?
"If this isn't about Rakepick's apprehension, then why am I here?" I muttered.
Dumbledore clasped his hands in front of him and looked on steadily at me. "I wanted to talk about you," he told me. "Last time we met, you had just returned from the Cursed Vault, and were still processing Rakepick's betrayal and your reunion with your brother. How have things been since then?"
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"Not good," I admitted. "Everything has been spiralling out of control--my friends have changed, another curse has prevailed over the school, and I have been delivered a prophecy by Trelawney that might contain clues about the curse and the final Vault."
"As much as I appreciate you telling me this, I'm more interested in hearing how you are doing emotionally," Dumbledore eventually said after some thought. "You experienced things that would be hard for anyone to cope with, let alone someone your age. It's only normal that you'd be working through some heavy emotions related to those experiences--and as your Headmaster, I'd like to know how you're feeling so I can better help you."
It was all I could do then not to explode into a reckless uncontrollable rage. How could Dumbledore come to make this observation right now when I'm already sinking waist deep into this muddied puddle of emotions? The more time that passed, the more I felt like suffocating. Everything that I saw, everything that I heard, only tapped me further into the mess with no hope of me getting out.
Talking with my sister only could relieve so much of the burden. And now I felt like questioning my friends' loyalty all over again. How far are they willing to take the risks of helping me now? What if something happens that leaves more than just a scar on my conscience?
