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THE FOLLOWING. august 26th, 1996.
"YOUVE GOT TO GET UP, ANA," BLAISE SOFTLY SPOKE INTO THE GIRLS EAR WITH A FROWN AS SHE ROLLED OVER AND AWAY FROM HIM. She hadn't moved in nearly two days and nobody could figure out what had pushed the girl to isolation.
Blaise sighed and gently pulled down her duvet cover, his arms grasping her shoulders in a way that almost mimicked fear at the action. And he was afraid. He was terrified that at one wrong move the girl would let out the sobs they had all heard two years before.
As if somehow moved by his concern, Anastasia sat up with his aid and her eyes fell to the ground. Blaise glanced back at Piper Nolan who only gave him a nod, dismissing him from the room so that she could begin her own work on her friend.
The taller girl gently pulled Anastasia's sweater up and over her head, her heart falling when she saw the Hufflepuff patch just above her heart. She knew that it was a common occurrence for her to wear it and yet it still brought her to tears at the sight.
"Cmon, stand up," Piper murmured softly and moved to dress the girl, her fingers fumbling with the green tie as Draco had done days ago. She gently buttoned up Anastasia's shirt, patting the girls shoulder before she laid her robe above them.
The two didn't speak as Piper led her towards the great hall, her hands never leaving her friends as she squeezed every so often to assure her that she was with company. She had helped Draco do this far too many times and in her mind, she would have thought she was quite good at it.
Anastasia's whole body felt off.
She couldn't quite place what was wrong but she knew that something was. It was like she had begun to fall apart, her movement laggy and her heart beating rapidly in her chest as they walked. She didn't know what had happened but she knew something had. She had never had a feeling like this that had proven to be wrong and the fact only made her thoughts flood with possibilities.
As Piper Nolan pushed open the doors to the Hall, all eyes instantly fell to the girl behind her and Anastasia felt frozen in her spot. She could see a plethora of emotions amongst the students; some looked upon her with pity, the other was a wave of disgust.
Pansy Parkinson was the first to stand at the sight of her, her mouth opening ever so slightly as she shakily held the Daily Prophet in her hand. "Anastasia, I am so sorry—"
The girl didn't say anything, only pulled the paper from her housemates hands as her eyes scanned over the words printed boldly across the front page.
