Choice's Curse {d.m.}

Loud Parties and Dim Corridors

The next morning when I woke up, for a moment in the fogginess of sleep, I recalled last night as nothing more than a dream. But as soon as I lifted up my hands to brush hair away from my face and saw the faint crimson crescents still remaining under my nails, I immediately felt ill again. Not just physically, but mentally as well. The awfully familiar storm clouds were gathering in my brain again, in a way they normally didn't while I wasn't at home; between Malfoy almost dying and me telling him things about my father that I'd never even told Harry, I should've expected it. The sun was dim enough in the sky that I knew I still had a while longer to wallow in bed before I'd have to force myself up and go about my day pretending that everything was exceptionally okay, because I'd remembered that Hermione asked me to study with her today for an upcoming Potions exam.

I couldn't admit to anyone why I felt so awful; no, that would lead to questions and questions would lead to having to reveal things that I'd been threatened with my life to not speak of. Did I really think Malfoy would do something if I ever told someone and he found out?

Yes. Absolutely.

Not that I particularly wanted to talk about it. I'd already been sick once because of it and I had no intention of repeating that velocity of vomit. Laying in my soft bed, I savored the warmth that the comforter provided, as the castle was getting colder and colder by the day, the drafty stone awful at keeping out the frigid soon-to-be winter wind. November was rapidly approaching, the leaves vivid hues of red and orange and yellow, and though the grass was fading to a sickly yellow, the beautiful blue skies that had been present lately made up for it. I was excited for the holidays, for the music and snow and warm fires; I was not, however, excited for the prospect of returning home. Though I wasn't quite sure yet where I was going to spend the two weeks between first and second term, even just the thought of leaving made me uneasy.

As the sun began to brighten and the birds began to sing, I pulled myself out of bed, though it was a monumental effort. My limbs felt heavy and worn down, my eyes felt swollen, and my head was pounding with a ridiculous intensity. Hoping that Hermione knew some spell or tonic to aleve me of my ailments, I got ready groggily, throwing on my most decent pair of comfy clothes, didn't bother with makeup, and threw my hair into a quick plait before trudging out of the dormitory, my four roommates still sound asleep, besides Luna, who I hadn't spoken to in weeks because of our odd schedules and sleeping habits. She was probably wandering around the grounds, looking for some sort of mystical creature that may or may not exist, and for a moment, I longed for my brain to be as gentle as hers.

As it was still rather early in the morning for a Saturday, the castle was mostly empty, though a few students had gotten up early to study like Hermione and I. The Great Hall was warm and smelled of cinnamon and pumpkin and bacon, and I reveled in the aroma for a moment before spotting Hermione, her head already buried in a book as she ate. Plopping down beside, I snuck a bit of bacon off her abandoned plate.

"Mornin'," I said, my voice still thick with sleep.

Hermione jumped, as if she hadn't noticed me sit down right next to her. "Merlin's Beard, 'Lainy! You nearly scared me half to death!"

Death. That word shot nausea through me, but I swallowed it down and went on. "Sorry, I thought you would've heard me, but once I saw the book," I gestured as if to say you know .

"Don't be! Why don't you eat some breakfast and then we'll head up to the library? I wanted to get an early start so that we could have enough time to get ready for Slughorn's party," Hermione said, laying her book down gently.

Oh, fuck . I had completely forgotten about the Professor's little get together with all his "best and brightest" students, one of whom was Malfoy. I doubted he would be there, but still, I didn't know if it was worth the risk.