seventeen

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He never forced himself on me, because he could read my thoughts. If he truly knew I didn't want it, he would stop, and maybe I only kissed him because I truly wanted it...

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Kitioma Hadlee

          "No," I scoff, shaking my head. "Absolutely n- wait, what'd you say?"

"Give me the book," Tom says once again, and I frown, crossing my arms.

"What book?"

Yes, I shall play dumb...not like I have to pretend to anyways.

Tom's eyes bored into my own, a stone glare set on his face. "Kitioma."

"Sorry, but I have no idea what you're talking about," I tilt my head a little, scrunching my eyebrows together in a confused expression.

"Hey Tom ha-" Izzy walks into the room, looks up, then stops. "Uh...am I interrupting something?"

"Ye-"

"No," I say sweetly. "Nothing at all. What was that about me going back to my common room? Oh, is that food calling out my name? Look at the time, gotta skedaddle!" On the way out, I grab a thick, green and black sweater, just to make him mad, hurrying my steps.

"Thought you couldn't walk?" He says haughtily.

"Oh it hurts, but I'm sucking it up. Good luck Izzy," I blow a false kiss in their direction.

I snicker softly as Tom turns his wand onto me, opening his mouth to protest, but I am already out of the door, slamming it behind me, leaving Tom and Izzy to...whatever Izzy does with Tom, I don't really care.

I can't exactly process what happened last night. I'd like to think of it as a dream, not one of the most sexual arguments I've ever been in.

Not even to mention that he wasn't joking when he said a certain statement earlier. I still limp slightly, my entire body aching, his rough touch still haunting my body. I don't know why I ever agreed to him. I mean, it's not like he's not attractive, but I'm not sure if boys who are trying to murder me are quite my type. He's only after my blood, anyways, I don't know why I keep getting into close contact with him, but it's not like I can just run away.

I slip the sweater I grabbed over my head, still chuckling over the fact that I stole an item of clothing from his room and got away with it without being brutally choked and/or murdered.

Gotta thank Izzy for the lovely distraction!

And now, off to burn it!

Just kidding, I'm not that insane.

A deep rumble echos in the corridor and I glance around, pulling out my wand from my...

My wand.

Where-

Oh Jesus Christ not again.

I groan and turn back around, heading past the gargoyles, who give me stony stares. I make my way down the hallway until I reach the familiar door labeled 'Head Boy'. I don't bother to knock and make my way into the room to search for my missing wand.

"Riddle- oh," I raise an eyebrow. Tom has his arm around Izzy waist, and her arms wrapped around his neck. They look like they're trying to devour each other's faces. It's quite gross, actually. I cough. "Excuse me-"

"What do you want, I thought you had places to be?" Tom says calmly.

"My wand," I glance over at Izzy. Her face is red, her Slytherin tie loosened, her hair slightly frizzy. "You know, because it was in my shirt pocket last night when you took my clothes off."

Izzy's face turns a shade darker.

"Leave," Tom says coldly, and I grab my wand I find rolling around on the floor.

As I pass Tom, I mutter, "Sam was still better."

I slam the door shut and I hear a crack of wood, the door splintering. "Anger issues!" I yell as I take off into a sprint, getting the hell out of there before he sends another curse that isn't going to be blocked by a door.

Oh goodie, running hella fast away from the boy who has a thing for trying to kill me, what fun! Almost as good as falling 'seventeen stories down the astronomy tower,' I give it a 9.5/10.

My hands are trembling, I flinch at every noise, expecting Tom to jump out of nowhere and...I don't know, shoot me with the killing curse and feed my remains to a dog.

Hey, didn't Tom have to go to the Headmaster's office, or was that just Izzy's excuse to get me out of there so Tom could fuck her? I shrug to myself. Eh, who cares. She gets his leftovers.

I snicker and take a turn down a hallway that I don't recognise. Many portraits on the walls stop talking to watch me pass. I pause at a painting of a young, pretty lady with a yellow flower in her hair. "Hello, do you know where I am, because I have no idea."

"That depends on where you want to go," She replies, her voice simple and light.

"The...Great Hall, please," I say with a small half smile.

"Take three turns to the right and go down the large staircase with brown steps, that should get you where you need to go," She replies smoothly.

"Thanks," I take of running again before the other paintings can ask what I'm doing. I take three turns, then trip down a large staircase, cutting the skin on my hands. Eventually, I hear the chatter of people eating lunch and walk into the hall. No one glances my way except a few Slytherins, who are probably confused on why I'm wearing a Slytherin sweater but sitting down at the Gryffindor table.

"Marlene," I elbow her a little. She glances up with a harsh glare.

"Come to gloat, have you?" She sneers, and I cough awkwardly.

"No," I scratch my neck, my cheeks slightly pink. "I came to apologize. What I did was wrong and idiotic, I just had a bad couple of weeks."

Her eyebrows raise. "You...? Apologize...?"

"Uhm, yes. I'm really sorry and I hope you forgive me, I understand if you don't, I was pretty...brutal."

Marlene smiles slightly. "I forgive you, but on one condition."

"Uh...yes?"

"Tell me why you're wearing a Slytherin sweater."

I blink, taken aback. "That's all you want? For me to tell you why I'm wearing a sweater?"

She nods. "Well, yeah, it's kinda weird, unless you're dating a Slytherin or something."

I sigh. "It's a long story. Can I tell it to you back in the common rooms?"

Marlene shrugs, picking up her food. "Sure, as long as you tell me in the next twenty-four hours, or I'll beat your ass."

I snort, grinning. "We all know who wins those fights."

Marlene jokingly rolls her eyes. "Yeah. Me, duh."

I lightly elbow her. "Please, Kadwell, we all know who..." I trail off, the name I just blurted out seeming familiar on my tongue. But...where's it from?

Marlene laughs. "Last name basis? Alright, Hadlee, alright. Anyways, you missed a lot in the common room last night..." She launches into a story about two girls slapping the guys for cheating on them, but I'm distracted, to distracted to notice.

Kadwell...where have I heard that before?

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