Dark Magic

Acceptance

I blinked, hoping it would force me awake; not entirely understanding the Healer's words. But the burning sensation across my left wrist reminded me of my living nightmare. Attempting to swallow the dryness from my throat, I turned to finally face Severus, who was no longer breathing, his eyes gazing motionlessly into the table as though no words had escaped Pomfrey's lips, which meant they were anything but good. They were terrifying.

"My dear, have you every heard of an Obscurial?" My attention flitted to Dumbledore who, too, looked saddened by her words. I shook my head, unable to speak. "It is a child born of magical origin that is forced to suppress their abilities. Eventually, a parasite develops inside them, leading to unstable and uncontrollable magic. The host, eventually, dies from this illness."

My brows furrowed, finally allowing myself to question, "Right. So what does that have to do with me?" I scoffed, trying to lighten the subject. What Dumbledore was describing was nothing like me. The elderly wizard's lips pursed, "Unlike an Obscurial, a Syphon absorbs all magic they come into contact with. Whether that be thoughts, feelings or abilities. Eventually, this leads to the witch or wizard becoming overwhelmed, for this amount of magic cannot be contained, similar to an Obsurial. Which can than lead to explosive, and even sometimes Dark, Magic."

The realisation came crashing down like a tonne of bricks, "The Yule Ball." I breathed, to which the Headmaster nodded, sadly. "I apologise for telling you this, now, my dear; but I was the one who took your Magic, in order to prevent-"

"-So it was your fault Emerald could not defend herself against the Dark Lord." Severus cut Dumbledore short, momentarily allowing the shock of his revelation to set in. Dumbledore nodded with a swift breath, "Yes, Severus. However, as I'm certain you are well aware, this saved Miss Potter's life."

"What does that even mean?" I asked, my eyes stinging slightly as I looked up to face him. The Headmaster's jaw clenched in anticipation, "Each time a witch or wizard with syphon abilities becomes overwhelmed, it increases the possibility...of death."

Death. I suddenly felt my entire body turn to ice, Severus noticeably tensing beside me at Dumbledore's words. "However, due to the fact that part of your soul is no longer in tact, I'm afraid, we cannot be certain-"

"Stop." I breathed, ultimately deciding I had heard enough. This did not appear satisfactory to the Headmaster, however. "Miss Potter," he began, but I held my hand up dismissively. "Please, just...Stop." I forced away a sob, phasing out whatever feelings were attempting to surface, "I'm tired and I want to go to bed." I spoke simply, rising from my seat. Severus remained in his fixed position, his dark eyes unmoving from Dumbledore's desk, once again. Knowing he was not about to join me, I avoided any eye contact with Dumbledore or Pomfrey and left the room.

"Does Lupin know?" The healer questioned quietly as the door closed behind me. Dumbledore's brief intake of breath was barely audible, "No, but we shall write to him..." And the door closed, silencing their conversation. The remainder of my journey back to the Slytherin Common Room was silent and, thankfully, free of any interactions.

It must have been late, the familiar common room empty say for one, blonde fifth-year sat by the fireplace in his usual armchair. When my eyes found his blue ones, I could have melted into the floor. By the time I made it down the trio of steps, I was in his arms. And that was where I would remain into the early hours of the morning. But I did not recall saying goodnight to Draco Malfoy; merely waking in my common room with the thick, velvety blankets keeping me warm and safe. Had I dreamt it? Draco's solace seemed too vivid to be a dream. But he did not mention our interaction at all during breakfast, and conversed with Crabbe and Goyle as he would every morning.