Y/n l/n was ashamed of the way she died. Choking on an olive wasn't exactly the most elegant way to go. She didn't even like them, her 'friends' had forced her- and when she gagged because of the horrid taste, it got caught in her throat.
But when...
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↬↝∗✶✾✶∗↜↫ ↬↝∗✶ ✽✿✽ ✶∗↜↫ ↬↝∗✶✾✶∗↜↫ ⋯℘☠︎❧♥︎☙☠︎℘⋯ ❝If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain; If I can ease one life the aching, Or cool one pain, Or help one fainting robin Unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain❞ If I Can Stop One Heart From Breaking ~ Emily Dickinson. ⋯℘☠︎❧♥︎☙☠︎℘⋯ ↬↝∗✶✾✶∗↜↫ ↬↝∗✶ ✽✿✽ ✶∗↜↫ ↬↝∗✶✾✶∗↜↫
OLIVE HAD STARTED TO neglect her studies. It wasn't as important as the protective jewellery she had been working on for each of her friends. . . and Regulus. She had been spending an awful lot of time in the Room of Requirement, reading and studying different spells she was going to cast on them. Olive had also been testing and experimenting mixing offensive spells and protective spells, some of which caused more harm than good.
She hadn't noticed her grades slipping.
She had been attending all of her classes, understood and participated in whatever they were doing that day. She learned the basics of whatever happened during the lesson and only understood how bad it had truly gotten when Professor Slughorn wanted to speak to her in private.
"You're on the verge of not being able to graduate year two," he had told her.
Time seemed to stop for a second, her mouth became dry and a clump stated to form in the pit of her stomach. Despite the intense feeling of anxiety, Olive felt like laughing in his face.
He truly looked sad, maybe even a little disappointed in her. Slughorn truly was a good Professor. If not for the blatant favoritism he had for some students and not others, and also thr very judgemental looks she received from him whenever she started on a potion — he could've been her favourite Professor. Instead he looked at her pitifully as he sat in his comfortable chair on the other side of his dark and broody desk. He had moving photographs of past and present students he favored, framed and facing his way.
Olive looked down at her lap, noting a small hole in her black tights.
Homestly. How strange was it really? How was she supposed to balance school and saving the world from a bloodthirsty maniac? It wasn't exactly something she could do 50/50 and hope for the best. No, to save them she needed a step by step plan, and for it to have at least a 75% chance of succeeding.
"What does that mean?" Olive Evans asked, clearing her throat and sitting straighter up in her seat. She gulped, her chest feeling heavy.
