ɪ ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ - 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

𝐂𝐇𝐏 𝟑𝟒 - News

THIRD PERSON's POV

The sheets crinkled around Y/n's legs, crossed under her figure as her eyes were focused on the crumpled letter resting before her, the smoothed paper imprinted by the folds of her robe's pocket. Yet, the seal was intact and yet to be sliced open.

All she could do was stare at the letter in front of her with a hesitant head and prying eyes. Part of her wanted to open it, another didn't. Who knows what Atticus had written to her about this time. Could it be about Rose who Y/n had yet to see since the beginning of the term, and she wasn't sure if what Mattheo said about the visitation thing was real or not. Or it could be about how she was lacking in grades or attending to Rose because of these new rules; Y/n knew that it wasn't good either way. Atticus never had anything nice to say to her.

Her hands were picking at each other, nerves running through her arms from the motions not helping her head. Y/n's gaze was inked black with her expectations and assumptions of what her father could want from her. It was always like this, at least more so now.

Despite Y/n's hesitance, the small mewing from Toby's little mouth reminded her of what she needed to do today and getting this done would mean she could get back to her day; and hopefully ignore the information inside afterwards. She picked up the crumpled letter and used her sleek silver letter opener to slice open the envelope, hesitantly sliding out the folded letter into her anxious hand.

The letter was room temperature and creased; Y/n's finger slowly flipping it open for her eyes to receive the information inside. A moment passed and the once held letter fell back to the dark green sheets.

A letter that was once warm with her heat, became cold.

-

Hogwarts used to be such a mystical space, thrumming with magic within its walls and enchanted the students with mysteries just waiting to be explored. Yet, as Y/n dragged her feet across the sand stone floors, she had come to realise that she had forgotten what it felt like. To wonder. To hope. To explore without consequence. No more warmth crawled over her skin and seeped into her muscle. She still felt cold.

She wasn't in her room anymore and couldn't bring herself to care if Peeves found her, yet she hadn't seen him in awhile; as if he too was hiding. It wasn't to her attention when she heard shuffling behind an open door with light spilling out of its mouth. The light provided no warmth when her foot stepped into its field and didn't look much better either. Her eyes didn't glide over inside to see a stressed McGonagall with her hands over her wrinkled face, how sunken it had become. But the woman had seen Y/n.

"Ms Hyde?"

Her voice was timid, unlike her commanding presence Y/n had come to know by default. She sounded stressed, tired. But to McGonagall, the girl looked worse. The skin around her eyes puffy and red yet the tear stains on her cheeks were old and dried, leaving only the ghost of its presence in streaks.

The rest of her body looked pale amongst her pyjamas, another thing that shocked the professor. McGonagall slowly rose from her desk with her hand clutching the fabric of her dress, still dressed with teacher's robes and crinkled. The older woman's footsteps sounded faint to Y/n, but she hadn't kept walking either.

"Ms Hyde, you should be in your room." Despite the authoritative nature of such a sentence, McGonagall's voice was tentative; worried. She appeared at the mouth of her office and placed her bony hand on the archway, looking down to Y/n who looked much like one of the roaming ghosts. At the silence, McGonagall's hand came to Y/n's shoulder, "Has something happened?"

At those simple words, like a dam, she broke. Snapped in two as once old tear stains renewed and her breath came out in a sob, one that had been captured in her battered heart like a bird in a cage. Finally released by such simplicity. The professor's sunken eyes widened as her voice drew out a saddened coo, the older woman's arms opening as Y/n ran into them; seeking shelter from drowning in the storm. McGonagall walked backward into her office, bringing both of them inside without breaking the comfort; comfort of a woman.