Chapter Forty-Seven: Catharsis

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I thought it was blood, at first.

On the mirror above the mantle piece, the message lay out cruel and clear. Scrawled in the same grusome, scarlet print that had been used to leave that note in my book:

Mudblood sluts can go burn in hell!

It was messy. Rushed. Yet the paint looked dry, which meant it must've been left there overnight intended to act as a twisted morning surprise. I skimmed over the angry slashes of scarlet, my eyes begining to prickle with shock. Shame. Horror even -- for the empty common room truly did resemeble that of a crime scene.

And I didn't need to think hard to figure out who the criminal was.

Pansy.

Perhaps Draco had intentionally snitched on me. Or perhaps she had just done it to serve as another warning for me to keep my mouth shut.

The message wasn't the only horror. My robes, all of my school uniform, my school books, my bag, my shoes -- were all completley trashed-

Left in a crumpled heap before the fireplace with red paint doused all over. Pages were either torn or ripped out completely; some even had been burnt.

I stayed standing stiffly, barely aware of the fact Draco still had his arms around my waist. He was saying something, but I couldn't focus. Couldn't snap back into my body.

It felt as though I'd been plunged head first into a lake of icy water and I couldn't reach the surface. Everything became slow; heavy and painful. I went to drag in a shaky breath and needles prickled into my throat, stunning me into a silent state of shock.

"Violet?" Draco was gripping me by the shoulders. I tried to look up at his face - it was blurry. Somewhere up above the surface of the icy lake, above the rush of my own pulse, I could hear his voice.

"Violet! Don't look at it. Hey -" My jaw was grabbed in one of his freezing grips. "Don't!"

He forced my head up, aligning our gazes. His expression was indecipherable. Voice stern. "Go back to my room. I'll deal with this."

I started shaking my head frantically, trembling and muttering, "No no no no, I can't. Let me past. I need to go to my dorm."

I needed to go to my dorm because a horrible realisation had stuck me: they'd been through my stuff. What else had they found? Trashed?

I pushed at his chest and he steppped back, arms falling at his sides, hands curling into tight fists.

"Violet, wait--" He called sternly, but I had already pushed past him.

I walked quickly over to the staircase, my heart beating almost painfully against my ribcage. By the time I'd reached the door and swung it open, stumbling through, my whole body was trembling with panic.

And now rage -- because as soon as I burst through the door, my gaze fell on the shattered glass beside my bed. I ran over to it, not caring if I got any shards in my bare feet, and knelt down; pale and stricken with grief as I held the broken picture frame up in my trembling hands.

The photo inside had been ripped and splattered with the gory red paint.

The last and only remaining photo I had of my mother.

The frame slipped from my fingers, crashing to the floor. I knelt by the glass, staring into space. A hand brushed against my shoulder, causing me to flinch, but I didn't blink, didn't look up.

Draco knelt down infront of me, his face out of focus. Everything was blurry.

"Violet?" He gave my shoulders a gentle shake. There was something in the weight of his hands on me that dragged me back to earth, back into my body. I snapped into focus, blinking. "Look at me."

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