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Her body jolted up as she awoke, gasping for air. Her face fell into her hands, and she harshly rubbed her eyes until she saw a kaleidoscope of colours.
She grimaced as she felt her hair coated with sweat, making it hang limply upon her shoulders. Ripping the covers off her petite frame, she stood up from the bed only to immediately sit back down from the shock of the blistering cold floor freezing her feet.
It took only moments for her to find the courage to stand again; she was used to the cold; from the countless times, she had been locked in the dark, cold cellar.
Drip. Drip, Drip.
NO! She thought harshly – she'll not think such thoughts.
Her feet quickly padded across the stone floor into the bathroom and promptly locked it behind her. The shock of the bright light momentarily blinded her. Her glowing green eyes stared at the mirror, and she grimaced once more. She never looked good after a nightmare.
Her hands shakily turned the tap on, cupped the calming, cold water, and splashed her face with it. It woke her up instantly, and she rushed to turn the tap off and gripped the sink tightly. Her lank hair drew a curtain around her face, protecting her from the harsh light. She took a deep and long sigh and turned to turn the shower on; there was no way she'd be able to sleep now.
The next hour was spent scrubbing her skin raw until it turned red and almost blistered. She wrapped the soft white towel around her body, silently marvelling at it. Never had she felt a towel so soft.
As fast as she could, she ran into the dorm, gathered her uniform and changed. Unlocking her drawer, she withdrew her hair products and got to work. Half an hour later, her hair was back to its' usual smooth, thick, silky tresses. She stood up and ran her hands down the silk material of her uniform, mouth agape, still not believing she could afford such luxurious material.
The silence was disturbed by Bulstrode shuffling in her bed, trying to find a new position. She saw Yasmine standing still, not reacting to anything. It was an... odd sight, "Potter?" she mumbled, slightly confused. Why is she awake? It must still be early – the sun had hardly risen based on the darkness of the lake.
Yasmine whipped around, not expecting anyone to be awake. She, for a moment, silently cussed herself for having her guard down. "I'm fine, Bulstrode; go back to sleep." She honestly didn't mean to sound so snappy, but; then again, she's never had a reason to be nice.
Bulstrode stared at her for a few moments and narrowed her already puffy eyes from sleep before shrugging and snuggling back into her covers, "Whatever you say, Potter. But just know Slytherin's a family – we could be your family." She mumbled all this somewhat incoherently, but it still drew a feeling deep within Yasmine that made her pause.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
We could be your family, the phrase repeated in her mind like a religion; it haunted her. The thought made her skin crawl, and nails dig into her skin so hard that crescent moons appeared.
