𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 | draco malfoy ✔️

30. honorary slytherin

TRAINING WHEELS—
HONORARY SLYTHERIN.

030

Talk of Crouch's death replaced the gossip and rumours surrounding Amora's attack, but that didn't mean it was over for the brunette. It had been a week since, and tonight was the second time she had woken up from a traumatic nightmare, resulting in sweat trickling down the side of her skull and her heart hammering as if she had just run a marathon.

Tonight, after being thoroughly freaked out by Professor Moody in the library, she had experienced her worst one yet. A nightmare that bad hadn't occurred since the Whomping Willow incident last year.

This one had been so bad that Amora refused to go back to sleep, despite the fact that it was three in the morning and she had classes in a few hours. She trekked down into the Common Room, gulping down a glass of water and settling back into one of the armchairs.

It was so soft behind her, the pillows cushioning her shaking body, beckoning her into a land where she was drowning and drowning in icy water on a continuous loop. Amora had to lurch herself up a few times, even pinching her hand when her eyelids fluttered too far down. She couldn't fall back asleep-- not when she was so scared of it happening again.

The bad dream reminded her of the Whomping Willow, memories of the event accompanying her most recent trauma. In her dreams, she would be dragged back to the surface of the icy lake, only for Harry to leave her there. Withering and cold and practically lifeless on the floor, whilst Harry ran off to save someone else. Someone more important than her.

Three days ago, when Amora had awoken from her first nightmare, she had been unintentionally quite distant from the Golden Trio. Giving them blunt responses, making no plans to sit with them first at breakfast. She thought she had moved past the small grudge she held for them. After all, Harry had saved her life a week ago. Yet, for some reason, past feelings were all coming back.

Amora tugged the oversized tee she had worn to bed closer to her body. It had been one of her father's shirts that had somehow gotten mixed up with her luggage at the start of the second year, and Amora often found herself sleeping in it, even if they lacked the father-daughter relationship that she wanted. It was soft and it reminded her of her childhood, back when they were comfortable around each other and he used to chase her on the beach, tickling her sides until she cried from laughing, and sneaking her sweets before bed.

She wasn't really sure what happened. Her father was a reserved man. He rarely showed affection to his own wife, his daughter being no exception to his rule. Amora often assumed that he just didn't know how to talk to her. As she grew up, they shared nothing in common and her father became stricter and didn't know how to hug her or say goodnight properly anymore. She even considered herself closer to her Uncle Amos nowadays.

It hurt Amora, but she would never tell anyone. She loved her father, just like she loved her mother. She knew he must love her too, somewhere beneath his solemn exterior and lifeless eyes.

Thoughts of her father had nearly pulled Amora into another sleep. She pulled herself off of the armchair, ignoring the screams of her exhausted body to just find somewhere comfy-- anywhere-- to settle and rest.

Amora refused. She could go and find Madam Pomfrey and ask for some Dreamless Sleep Potion, but it was far too late into the night and she didn't want to be a burden.

Amora thought maybe some cold air might wake her up. She knew Filch and Mrs Norris mainly hung around the Gryffindor Tower these days, waiting for a member of the Golden Trio to sneak out of their beds, so Amora thought she would probably be safe. Nevertheless, she tightened her wand in her grip and left the Common Room, instantly feeling the cooler air of the castle's corridors.