"Trust me, you shouldn't want anyone like me on your back."
"Maybe I don't want anyone like you on my back," His eyes darkened as he stepped closer, confining me tighter into barely any space as my back pressed against the wall.
"Maybe I want you. U...
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CHAPTER EIGHT
THE DARK ARTS SEEMED like an illusion to an innocent eye. If you only read about it in books, age old text imprinted on a page—it seemed like a joke, a cruel jest that is meant not to be indulged in, but still, to be thrust upon your face, from a textbook, from an enemy, from your family history.
Defense Against The Dark Arts at Ilvermorny, was taught by a staunchly built professor, a certain Jebediah Keystone. With his stout height, long ginger curly hair pouring out of his creased hat and down his robes, and his stubby fingers, the man slowly walked about classroom 6B, his arms tied behind his round back, face pulled the ground in deep thought as the wireless on his desk crackled.
"— with the recent blow at the Diggory family, Amos Diggory of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures in the British Ministry of Magic, refuses to give a statement regarding the sudden murder of his son, Cedric Diggory. It is believed that the man supposedly allies himself with the belief of Harry Potter and in turn, Albus Dumbledore. Following the death, mass breakouts have been witnessed from Azkaban, prisoners being related or associated to You-Know-Who in the past, as dementors go wild with anguish. The attack on muggles after last year's Quidditch World Cup final also adds greatly to the concern. The Ministry claims to be rounding up the escapees, yet it refuses still to acknowledge Harry Potter's claim. Could it turn out to be true? Is He who must not be named, really back? Is the fall of the Wizarding world as we know it, near? Could this be a resurrection unlike any other?"
Professor Jebediah Keystone switched off the broadcast, a thick finger pressing a dial as the box crackled off, the British voice on the sound silencing instantly.
"There," The professor spoke after the silence had penetrated, and I stirred slightly in my seat in discomfort. Mass breakouts from Azkaban? Of things I had mentally prepared for, it was not this.
The attack on the muggles after the final Quidditch world cup match was something I knew only an overview of. No wireless broadcast, following the final match had taken the liberty to cover the unprecedented event as well. But in all honesty, an attack on muggles didn't mean anything to me for me to venture deeper for more information.