016 | words spill

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ALBANY DIDN'T GET TO TELL FAITH anything that night. The minute they had uttered the password and stepped inside the common room, a repeat of the earlier uproar ensued; not a single Slytherin, it seemed, had gone to bed at all, rather staying up and waiting for their champion.

The noise was overwhelming; students of all years were on their feet, stamping and clapping, cheering and whooping, some of them actually screaming. Albany was caught off guard by the amount of support her housemates were so willing to give her, and perhaps in other circumstances, it would have been heartwarming. She knew the Slytherins had house pride, but to this extent, it was definitely surprising, especially considering she had barely uttered a word to any one of them, excluding Faith.

She stood at the entrance to the common room for a long moment, astonished by the display of support, before eventually snapping out of her stupor. Faith had cheered up considerably, face alight with excitement at the thought of a party. That was certainly what their house was implying they throw; someone had wrapped a green and silver banner around Albany's shoulders, and there was magical confetti showering from the high ceiling. She felt guilty to deny them the pleasure of celebrating, but personally felt like doing the exact opposite. Maybe if she suggested they had a group grave-digging session for her, they might be just as enthusiastic.

She had to fight her way to her dormitory, numerous complaints and shouts encouraging her to stay. Guilt pulled at her arms as the hands of her classmates did, but her anger and fear hadn't yet dissipated and urged her onwards with threatening glares sent towards those in her way.

"Al," Faith called, her voice breaking through the clamour of the crowded common room. Albany glanced sheepishly over her shoulder, and felt bad ever before catching the disappointed expression on her friend's face. "You're not staying? After everything else?"

Her stomach knotted at the remark, and reminded her of the ever-present nausea and exhaustion that had haunted her all day. She physically couldn't bring herself to stick around for what would undoubtedly be a lively and long party, but the guilt of saying no to her best friend after just reconciling with her weighed heavy.

"Faith, I—" her voice faltered, desperate, lost in the noise. Regardless of whether or not she stayed, everyone else seemed set on celebrating; teenagers would never just throw away an excuse to stay up all night and party. "I have to go... just this once."

Faith didn't reply, but didn't move to stop her, standing still in a packed crowd of energetic bodies. Her face fell, and Albany turned and hurried up the stairs to the girls' dormitories, unable to face it any longer.

Sleep didn't come easy that night. She could have cried into her pillow, she felt so horrible, but didn't allow herself such a luxury; it was all, of course, entirely her fault that she had landed herself in such a mess and ruined everything. Dark, desperate thoughts plagued her for what felt like hours alone in her bed; had she not been so physically and mentally drained, she would never have succumbed to sleep. When she did, it was rough, uncomfortable, and haunted by nightmarish images and terrible dreams.

LIONHEART ❃ george weasley Where stories live. Discover now