Dark Magic

Deja Vu

"So, what's the plan?" Remus' voice was desperate, watching Dumbledore with hopeful eyes. The ageing Wizard appeared nervous; not an emotion I often associated with him.

"Professor Snape will resume training with Miss Potter. However, this time, it will be solely focused on containing Emerald's abilities in relation to her current predicament." His use of words made me squirm in my seat, just a little. "This will include blocking out unwarranted magic to ensure she does not become overwhelmed." Dumbledore's words made perfect sense. In an otherwise impossible situation, the Headmaster had some form of resolution. This did not appear to alleviate Remus' worries, however, as his head fell into his hands. "And if that doesn't work?"

Dumbledore took a brief intake of breath, "I plan on travelling for a brief period, during the current term. I will gather as much information as I can whilst Professor Snape, Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey work on obtaining treatment for Miss Potter." This seemed to satisfy Remus' worries just a little, my hand placing instinctively over his own which now rested on his thigh. His bloodshot eyes found my own, as I managed to muster a half-smile, of sorts. "I'll be okay, Remus. I promise."

***

After Remus left the school, I found my journey to the Slytherin Common Room cut short as I crossed paths with my brother, exiting the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. His eyes were red with furious tears as he clutched his left hand and stormed by, missing me by an inch. "Harry," I breathed, irrevocably. He hadn't even noticed me, his entire body ceasing as he came to a sharp halt. I watched with baited breath as he slowly turned to face me.

"Em." His lips parted to say more, the flicker of forgiveness in his eyes suddenly glazed as his neck reeled backwards, twitching uncontrollably. I watched, horrified, as that anger resurfaced and my brother morphed into the version I had grown accustomed to since I first saw him at Grimmauld Place and he spoke of Severus being a Deatheater.

Harry's eyes narrowed onto me like a serpent's-a look I had only ever seen in one person's eyes before. I could have sworn I saw a flicker of red lurking within them, like a being possessed. "You should have stuck up for me in class, Emerald. Joined my side against Umbridge. Because of you, look what she did to me," Harry outstretched his concealed palm, blood oozing from it as the words were etched into his skin; 'I must not tell lies.'

I gasped, my eyes welling with tears. This was what Severus meant when he told me to be careful around Dolores Umbridge. What she was capable of. All because my brother spoke out against her.

"Harry, I'm-" I took a step closer to him, about to spill Severus and I's last conversation; that we needed to remain silent, for now; only my brother cut me short, "-Just don't. Don't speak to me anymore. Leave me alone." He spat venomously, storming away. I held a sob in my throat at the sound of the classroom door opening once again. The devil masked in clad-pink stepped out, as I found myself looking down at her small figure; make no mistake, this did not alleviate Umbridge's intimidating aura.

"Ah, Miss Potter. Might I have a word?" Her sickly sweet voice rang through my ears like the world's most irritating earworm. An intangible rage clouded my mind at the horrors this woman had inflicted on my brother, regardless of the words he had spoken merely moments before. Impulsively, my hands shot into my pockets as I could feel the green heat burning my fingertips, desperate to detonate at any moment. This unbridled rage was what led to the Fiendfyre incident the night of the Yule Ball. This is what I needed to contain in order to prevent the worst from happening. Dolores Umbridge was the match in the room hellbent on setting me ablaze. All I needed to do was stop her from striking hard enough...

"Of course, Professor." My forced smile was hardly convincing as I spoke the words through gritted teeth, stepping into the classroom and following her to the office Remus once utilised as his own. It was entirely unrecognizable. All the previous magical artefacts had vanished and had been replaced with scatter cushions, doilies and tablecloths in every shade of pink. The walls were covered with pictures and of cats in bows and decorative floral plates. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust as Umbridge sauntered to her chair and took a seat, motioning for me to follow in suit.