fox - r.lupin

- c h a p t e r - t h i r t y-t h r e e -

edited.

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 Violet stared at the book in her lap, not really reading anything.

It had been like this for the past hour. Sitting there and staring at her Muggle novel–not reading a single word, her mind vanishing in the darkness of her thoughts. Ignoring anyone or anything that might have been going on around her.

Which wasn't much as Violet had taken refuge on the Quidditch Pitch, even though it was beyond freezing outside.

But she didn't mind it–wearing at least two jumpers, fuzzy socks, a hat, and gloves. She also had grabbed her Gryffindor scarf on her way out of the common room that afternoon.

The scarf that she buried her nose into–sighing deeply as she tried to warm her appendage up.

The cold was honestly one of the only things she could feel at the moment.

Other than the cold that was biting at her skin, Violet felt empty.

She had tried her best to not let the scuffle with the boys and Snape get to her. She had tried to pull out of whatever this weird numb funk was to help Lily. She tried to be normal for a while–but she couldn't.

She just...couldn't.

And it scared her.

So she did the thing she knew best when it came to falling under this weird spell.

Violet hid.

She had always hidden when she felt lost like this.

She remembered hiding as a kid for brief moments. But that was when her mum and dad were around. That was when she was young and easily comforted by Lily after a hard day of doing nothing.

But now–she didn't have her parents.

Now, she felt like a burden to everyone around her.

Lily. Marlene. Mary. Alice.

And even the boys–who she had avoided for weeks.

So Violet ran.

She knew she would pull herself out of the pit, but until she did, Violet would just sit in the darkness–working on fighting through the numbness as best she could.

Violet lifted her head–giving up on reading and staring out over the grounds instead.

It was starting to flurry with one of the first snows of Scotland's long, long winter–and Violet pinched her lips at the sight of the white flakes.

It was just a reminder that it was almost time for the Christmas dance.

The dance that she was so excited for and now had no plans of attending.

Besides, even if she still wanted to go–Violet didn't have everything she needed.

No dress. No shoes. No accessories.

Nothing.

Not only did she not have anything up to the dress code, but everyone would be there. Everyone who had witnessed the blow-up between her, the girls, the boys, and Snape at the tree would be there. And naturally–even if they hadn't been there–everyone knew about it.

To be frank–Violet did not have the energy to deal with the questions, whispers, or generally the social interaction with her schoolmates.

It sounded like a wretched time.