The Cursed Soul

Chapter 37

ÍROAS

I don't think thinking too much is really good for my brain. Gods! I feel like it would explode any minute with just a small trigger. I'm plenty sure I used my brain quite well and often, but I feel like it wasn't even used to over-functioning.

With that, I can't help but wonder in my past life if someone's doing all the thinking for me.

The draught of peace has been made by Professor Snape. It seems like Harry has successfully convinced the Headmaster for that. Judging by the immediate action Harry must have informed Dumbledore about what happened that day. To what extent, I'm not sure. But I didn't bother asking Harry for that.

All the questions I have still linger in my head, and every day it grows bigger. It's been a couple of weeks since the incident happened. The injuries earned by the three from our fight have finally healed, but the memory remains scathing in my heart. And the sudden flashes of those men I killed just made it worse.

***

"See you later, buddy. I'll come visit you again!" giving a couple of gentle pats at the back of my friend pegasus, I bid my goodbye and left.

"Don't be too cheap, boss! Bring more doughnuts next time!" I hear him shouting. It's funny how his obsession with that food seems to never end. So I journey back into the castle chuckling and smiling like an idiot.

Today is Harry's quidditch match. Hermione and Ron must be with him right now, helping him to get ready. I, on the other hand, decided to visit blackjack first. The guilt of hurting the pegasus remains. Every other day I came to him, just like today. – Before going into the quidditch field, I still have to change my clothes. Blackjack wasn't really mindful about all the dirt while playing with me.

Walking back, my hand kept playing at the small bottle of potion it's holding. I did try this the first couple of days I received it, whenever I felt like I would explode from sadness and anger remembering the stolen diary of my father, the only connection I had of him. The effect does come true to its name. But Snape has warned me not to be too dependent on it.

"Shame," I remember him saying with his natural intimidating demeanor, "I don't know why the headmaster urged me to make this potion for you, but as a prodigy of potions you should know how dangerous it is if overused. So I warn you Mr. Olympia, do not disappoint me!"

I'm not sure if I should be offended or pleased. Calling me a shame and a prodigy at the same time is kind of confusing, so all I managed to answer back was Yes, sir!

Halfway through my journey, I stamped my feet onto the ground and lifted my head. Looking at the sunny sky. I don't want the other soul to overtake this body ever again and go rampage (even though I am the real parasite here) but being numb forever as the side effect of overusing the potion wasn't on my bucket list as well. So as far as I can, I control my emotions without using the draught of peace, trying not to be on edge.

It was hard at first, especially since I have tasted how having a father feels like even for a short time, but gradually I learned to accept the situation, or at least tried to. – I know it wasn't yet confirmed if he was actually my biological father (aside from the fact we resembled the same face), and somehow I don't feel any connection with him either, but thinking finally I have someone to call father is very fulfilling.

I reached the entrance hall then-after and continued walking into the castle. But as I wandered yet another floor, I heard it again. The murderous disembodied voice of the creature.

Kill... Kill...

It took me by surprise at first, but without hesitation, I followed the voice. And just like the last time, I couldn't sense its exact location even though I could hear the whisper of its shadow. So I just listened, tracing where it was hiding, charging to the unknown alone. I don't know if one could call it bravery or simply stupidity, but at the moment I wasn't too interested to emphasize that.