"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 TWENTY-EIGHT
I THOUGHT I KNEW CERTAINTY BEFORE THIS. Now I realize that it was a much denser thing, carved in iron and stone. It weighed so heavy—perhaps a feat to make one realize that it was real. Not just a feeling, but a thing that existed, took up space, a thing that crashed on consciences and made those standing cower under the sheer force of it.
I had never known certainty like this before. It was a wild animal's fury, etched with a human's stubborn determination. At present, it was in my vision—mightier than I had ever known it.
"They want the entire deathly hallows," Bridgette paced about our dorm, her tone marred with consideration, as Elias Dupont and Gabriel Chevrolet watched her release perhaps an ounce of their own pent up frustration. "Nous devons croire en la meilleure possibilité. This means they are really thinking of defending their schools and students right? So is Albus Dumbledore—with his sudden decision to take some of his students and return to Hogwarts."
But of course, Bridgette Monet was not frustrated. She was a hopeful bird, desperately catching onto rays of consolation wherever she found them. I watched her, as the rays of the sun that had claimed its throne outside, danced in our dorm room, illuminating dust particles like delicate glitter. It irked me, that a shard of sun would highlight the dust I'd rather stay blind to. But it was a moment of clarity, and just because it involved something as vague as this, I couldn't convince myself that it mattered.
Bridgette Monet, Elias Dupont and Gabriel Chevrolet, having returned from Headmaster Fontaine's office, had trudged on into the dorm I shared with Bridgette, with the boys looking for somewhere to vent rather than understand. I couldn't blame them, if I was in their shoes, I would be furious too, but I was not in their shoes.
I was going to Hogwarts. I was being offered a chance on a silver platter to win The Elder Wand from Albus Dumbledore's grasp. The more I had thought about it last night, the more the pieces fell together. Of course, Voldemort would make an attempt at The Elder Wand at Hogwarts where he was taught and bred—cruel irony, to defeat the wizard who had been his own headmaster during his time in school. It all made perfect sense.
What separated me from my Beauxbatons peers in this moment, was that I had my own reasons to go, and they only had the orders.
"Maybe what happened to Toussaint scared the old wit," Gabriel Chevrolet spoke up, "He got worried that if he had another Diggory amongst the Hogwarts students, he'd be let go like the useless old wart he is. Il est vraiment intelligent, de partir quand la scène a été gâchée."
"Arrêt," Elias narrowed his eyes on Gabriel. "That useless old wart can kill you where you stand."
Gabriel bared his teeth. "I'd like to see him try."
