Spellbind

16. No Dawn In My Darkness; 'Till You Bring Me My Sanity

A/N:

>>>>> = Time Skip

<<<<< = Flashback

*=*=*=*=* = Next Scene

Niyla POV:

The weekend jolted into Monday, outside the rain was mostly a scattered drizzle. The past two days were not so eventful; I let the daytime hours pass in my dormitory, leaving only to eat and disappearing from the halls when I saw the Weasley's. I kept trying to convince myself I might be overreacting, but seeing George kiss Angelina seemed to be all I needed to make up my mind. Sure what I felt for him, feels like more than some adolescent crush, but I couldn't stand the thought of people knowing how I felt about him— him knowing how I feel about him— but he still made the decision to kiss another girl. It made me feel small, and pathetic; which I hated over everything he made me feel.

He made me feel as though I wasn't articulate enough to express my own thoughts to myself; he jumbled up my thoughts and emotions so much. One second I want to loathe him, then next I want to want him. It all...— he— makes me feel foolish. But at the same time, when I think I see him in the corridors, my heart drops and suddenly I'm breathing raggedly. The world shifts its axis and the sun explodes; almost like the world won't ever be right until I can look into those smoky topaz eyes again. And I lose my mind over it.

But that all should be at the bottom of my list of concerns. I had to speak with Harry, and show him the letter I had received from Sirius on my birthday. Question him about why his scar was mentioned in the letter, and his thoughts on Moody's accusation of dark magic being used to destroy the Goblet. I hoped it was some kind of practical joke, that my name was forged on a parchment and entered in the flames; and not part of some plot to get Harry hurt.

I had dared to keep Sirius's letter on me at all times when I left my dorm, just in case I found an opening to steal a few moments with Harry. But in the past two days, I wasn't able to. The ink on the letter has faded a little and the edges are bent and wrinkled, from having it folded in my pockets and jumbling around in my school bag.

I leeched to a step at the bottom of the Grand Staircase in the entrance hall, waiting for Harry, knowing eventually he would have to pass by. I made sure to modulate my expressions when I caught glimpses of people watching me or managed to hear a few speak my name in hushed voices. I was careful to pretend I didn't know I was one of the main topics of gossip after that night with the Gryffindors and Diggory.

I bent over my Advanced Potions book on my lap, wondering if I would have to go to Snape's class this afternoon or if I should visit Dumbledore's office to talk to him about dropping the class. One good thing I had going was Draco's mother had been sending him owls, we'd hoped the next one she'd send would have more information about the first task.

My fingers glided out the lines of the almost too-elegant scribbling added by one of the previous owners. Surely they had too much time on their hands to have been able to write so attractively. I had been studying the writing along with a spell scribbled not nearly as beautifully written as the rest of the added text.

"Sectumsempra," I mouthed, barely moving my lips; contemplating if I had been pronouncing the word right in my head.

An age must have passed before I stopped paying attention to everything around me. After a while I fanned the book close, but caught the back cover, and read the squished-up text written at the bottom: This book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince. I studied it only for a moment, then sighed and swapped it for a journal from my bag. At the end of the journal, the letter from Sirius. I eyed it just a second, before someone plopped down next to me, nudging my shoulder with theirs as they fell.