𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲 | 𝐝.𝐦.

forty five

The first crack of dawn is barely visible beneath the blanket of snow that buries the light along the horizon.

Winter has arrived early this year and the room that Betty wakes up in, stretches in as she sets her feet down on the cold floorboard, is empty. Bleak, like the season's gift.

Her skull hammers within her head, a sharp ringing pierces her ears. Her eyes circle the room but see nothing except the mere outline of her room's furniture in pure blackness.

It would take her a while to be relieved of this mess.

Meanwhile, she would have to pull herself together and figure out a way to find her way to her classroom without revealing that the Gryffindors had a secret party last night.

The entire school knows how the Carrow's would react to that. The pair of siblings are still as delirious as they usually were.

They would continue their morning exercise of roaming the school on lookout for certain students they could tyrannise. Any students who did not belong in their house preferably.

She would have to work harder to avoid them, then.

Finally, Betty's vision clears up.

To the side of her bed, she sees a chair. Her chair that would originally be placed under her desk, but today is situated stiffly  beside her bed.

She is reminded of what had happened last night - the boy whom she had harassed into staying and spending the night with her.

He had wasted the entire night's time sitting on the creaky, tough wooden chair - maybe even injured his lower back because of how uncomfortable the chair is.

Humiliation cascades over her and she buries her face into her two spread-out palms.

But now, the chair is empty, almost as if he never slept there - as if the night had never happened.

The only elusive trace of him was a blanket, creased and twisted, fallen on the carpet beneath the wooden chair.

And beyond that, a necklace, glimmering beneath the pale shaft of the sun that sneaks into the room.

Holding her breath nervously, Betty shuffles closer to her drawer, picks up the necklace, and feels all air dissipating from her lungs as her fingers delicately pick up the charm of the necklace.

The rosemary looks untouched, and she is instantly hit by the pervasive smell of her perfume, still clinging to her body from last night. Rosemary.

Why would Malfoy leave this here? Or better yet, why had he been carrying this around with him?

As if unable to stand the pressure of the necklace on her fingers, or within her eyesight, she stuffs it into the robes hanging by her wardrobe.

Then, quickly put on her uniform, the robes, the sweater, and the scarf her mother had knitted for her months ago.

The Ravenclaw common room is almost empty by the time she makes her way down, leaving only a couple of first-years clustered in the cozy corner, mumbling to one another incessantly.

They had woken early enough to catch breakfast. Lucky, Betty thinks.

She suspects the entirety of the Gryffindors, excluding the younger years, had been knocked out throughout the night, and most of them would be missing breakfast this morning.

Her suspicions are right, as expected. When she enters the Great Hall, nearly a half of the Gryffindors were missing, probably sound asleep in their dorms and ignoring the sharp chimes of the clocktower.