𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 | 𝐡. 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝟔𝟓 - 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲

"𝙊𝙝 𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪?!" Yelled Phee, standing up abruptly from her seat, as Draco leaned back on his own feeling rather pleased with himself.

"What? And let you have the satisfaction of winning?" He snarled getting up from his seat.

"It's not like your family has a fucking winning streak you absolute fucking dickhead!" She whirled around to face him aggressively, it took everything in her not to jinx him where he stood.

"Enough of your squabbling, have you made any progress either of you?" said Snape droning voice from his seat in the corner.

"What do you think?" spat a venomous looking Ophelia, as she turned to look elsewhere because the mere sight of Draco alone was enough to boil her blood.

"Then this has been a waste of time... again, if I do not see any improvement I will be forced to use rather drastic methods to encourage results... now get out my sight the pair of you, we will continue on Monday." Said Snape standing to his feet as Ophelia began to make her own way to the door, swinging it open she stormed down the corridor towards the stairs.

"You know, if you just gave in, this would be a lot less painful for you." Called out Draco, making her stop dead in her tracks.

Turning her head over her shoulder she laughed sarcastically, "The only thing that is going to hurt here is your ego when I toss you aside like I did your father."

Draco's face grew taught.
"I am not my father."

"Could've fooled me, you've both got that false sense of superiority for the simple reason you're pure-blood. You don't inherit personalities you know, maybe you should think about getting one." She said coldly, before she slipped up the stairs and out of his line of sight.

As she made her way to Gryffindor Tower she tried to stifle the overwhelming pressure clamping on her skull, the end of the corridor ahead seemed to be getting further away from her as she was walking towards it as the walls became narrower as though someone was pulling it away from her. She realised she was beginning to see two of everything and her breathing became heavy and shallow as she took off into a sprint, yet no matter how fast she ran, the end of the corridor got further and further from her.

She knew logically, she was on the same corridor that she was walking on at the beginning of the corridor and it had to come to an end eventually, so she stopped running.

Then as she focused on stopping the crushing pain on her skull so she could see properly again, she realised her nose was bleeding a steady stream of blood... as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, her gut pulled taught like a rubber band that couldn't be pulled anymore as her ears began to prick to the sound of whispering, it was incoherent and she couldn't understand it... her neck began to feel wet beneath her ears as they got progressively louder until she couldn't hear her own breathing... it was getting closer.

Clutching her hand around her wand she turned to look behind her to where she had been running from she realised that was a very bad idea to stop. Her mouth dropped open in horror as the corridor usually lit by candles and moonlight was completely pitch black, she couldn't see further than three meters in front of her, and as she looked down at the carpet as she took a few terrified steps back from it she realised it was seeping closer, like ink spilt on parchment.

"Lemme me alone." she told them, and for a moment it halted.

Then it began to move again.

"No, stop!" she said a bit more firmer her eyes glowing a shade of purple, but it got taller and wider in response as though challenging her, and all her gut told her was to fight, but how was she supposed to fight the dark?