» t h e s o l i l o q u y « 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚎'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚛𝚜
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
we're caught up in a war we didn't ask fo...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
« -- ❈ -- »
There were always whispers.
The positive about being the youngest, and the quietest, meant people often overlooked her presence.
And they were terrible whisperers in Jocelin's opinion.
"Marlene, are you sure?" It was her sisters voice, urgent.
"I'm quite positive. There's more we can do."
Jocelin's quill stilled as she strained to hear. She was tucked away against the wall as the voices came from the aisle just in front of her table. Her body tensed in the usual manner, attempting to make herself smaller. Her eyes held steady on the parchment but she dare not breathe too loudly as to give herself away.
The wooden boards creaked when the duo shifted down the aisle, nearing Jocelin. In the background the fire crackled and students whispered so as not to attract the attention and wrath of Madam Pince. But she swore the air stilled around her.
"Where did you hear this?"
"From Sirius, who got it from Dumbledore." It didn't sound good, whatever it was, especially with Sirius involved. Jocelin didn't know how Regulus and him were brothers. She looked up to see the shadow of her sister and thought similarly.
Hettie dropped a copy of The Daily Prophet on the table, startling Jocelin from her thoughts.
"Have you heard?" She whispered, eyes ablaze in ways that concerned her.
"Heard what?"
"The attacks on the filthy muggles, that's what." Jocelin's heart stopped. Of course she had heard, everyone whispered so often about the attacks happening around the country, about the Dark Lord's rise, contemplating who was involved and who would be the next victims.
Jocelin wished she didn't know any of it.
Delilah and Marlene stepped out from the aisle, whispers ceasing as they noticed Hettie. Jocelin looked up at her friend with concern as she cut her eyes to the duo. Delilah flipped her hair over her shoulder and she passed by with nothing more. Marlene ignored them altogether, hand delicately laid upon Delilah's arm to guide her away.
"Of course, who hasn't Het?" She let out a small laugh turning back to her, hands pressed roughly against the paper, trying not to dwell on the moment that had just passed them. Hettie rolled her eyes, obviously dissatisfied with her answer.
