The founders of Hogwarts, combined had the power to create, destroy and conquer, power beyond a muggles wildest dreams. Hogwarts was their home, their joy and when they discovered its future destiny, a war prophesied to murder youths and obliterate...
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Lavinia rubbed the tension beneath her temples with two fingers, elbows perched on the desk and book beneath her gaze. Remus and Sirius would be moving into the Hufflepuff tunnels next week when their affairs were in order and as thrilled as they were to be returning to Hogwarts, even in such a remote form, Lavinia couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something. She'd set Sirius the task of learning parseltongue-- one he was already bored of but was completing out of excitement for meeting his snake, he claimed the basilisk was the first good thing to ever come from being of Slytherin descent.
For the past few days, Lavinia had been rocked with a sickening urgency as though her life was a path and she had just walked past a side route that desperately needed exploring. It was equally sickening and enraging. She had rewound her thoughts, sat in stock-still silence for hours contemplating and following every route of thought but still, the answers evaded her and she felt the burning desire to smash something in her anger-- her Hufflepuff mother would not approve.
The words reverberated around the inside of her mind, echoing off of her every thought -- missing piece, missing piece. The thought was so obnoxiously loud, she almost wanted to scream it into the world just to get it into the air and out of her head. Lavinia hated missing pieces, there was nothing worse than a missing piece, a missing piece of a puzzle, a missing piece of a mission, but what was her missing piece? What didn't she have?
Lavinia slammed the book far too aggressively and the sound singed her already ached skull, earning a chorus of serpent worthy hisses of distaste from nearby students. She didn't have the heart to care, rubbing her fingers over the bridge of her nose. There were so many things missing, it was difficult to pinpoint which one, exactly, her mind was aching for. Her mind was such a vast cavern, it was sometimes impossible for the main body of it to tell what was swirling in the darkened antechambers. She could very well get lost in there if she wasn't careful and so frequently, she had, her parents had been too good in creating her mind that it stopped being something of beauty and instead became a danger unto itself.
"What did that book ever do to you?" a familiar voice questioned and the thoughts froze their ricocheting, halting in suspended animation where they hang, submissively waiting. Lavinia convinced herself that the distraction was the reason, that the halting of her mental catastrophe was the only reason she was relieved to hear that voice but inwardly, she knew it wasn't true. She was glad to hear that voice because it was him, and it meant that he was speaking to her. She could only hope that the outcome would be better than their previous discussion.
"It failed to give me the answers I sought," she returned, not looking at him. She didn't want to see his too-perfect quiff of white hair or his ashy eyes, right then, she did not even have the desire to bask in the ocean around his mind. She had enough thoughts of her own without contemplating Draco's.
