Dancing with our hands tied | M.R x OC

O N E || DEVI CALMARTI

It had never been difficult for me to get lost inside my own world. I would dream of whatever I wanted, within reason. Ever since I was a child, I was constantly being scolded for zoning out too easily. I would picture the beach, large waves crashing against the sand, the water; clear enough to unravel the beauty of the ocean but not transparent enough to reveal the depths of my childish, irrational worries. I would picture gardens, full of colour, rows of roses as red as blood and tulips as pink as the bows my mother used to place in my hair.

I would imagine all the things that could be different, whether that be in a good or bad way did not matter, what mattered was that they were different. These other worlds could be anything, I could be anything. However, for the past year I have only ever found myself dreaming of one place. Home.

A place I have learned to miss just as much as I used to hate. The walls I once couldn't wait to leave every September first, I now longed to run back to. Despite the fact those walls held one of the people I hated the most.

My father. The man I once used to look up to as well as fear, I now despised. Don't get me wrong, I had always hated the man. He had mistreated my brother, Theodore, and I since we were children. Once my mother died in my first year of Hogwarts, he became unrecognisable. The man I had once thought to be strong and assertive, was now weak and aggressive. His temper was now shorter and patience now thinner. However, I had never loathed him as much as I did once he took me out of Hogwarts and placed me into a school for 'Mentally ill witches and wizards'. I was not mentally ill. All I did was set fire to the forbidden forest with my boyfriend in the middle of it because he told me he had cheated on me. That's nothing, right?

Okay, calm down, Marcus was fine, he got out in time. Besides, it's not like I did it intentionally... not to that extent at least. My dark magic, which I inherited from my mother, had been getting out of control all throughout my third year at Hogwarts, and despite my constant pleading, my father was no help. When Marcus told me he had been secretly seeing Millicent Bulstrode practically all year, I lost it.

Up until that point nobody other than my father, brother and Professor Dumbledore knew about my magic. But when you accidentally set fire to a very public part of your school and leave your boyfriend to burn, people talk. Soon, the whole school knew about it and my face was plastered over the front cover of the daily prophet.

I ran out of the forest, my vision blurred by tears, and everything I passed caught on fire. It was like my tears were the gasoline and my anger was the fire, I couldn't stop. When Theodore saw the flames and heard the screams, he knew it was me. He used a spell to get me to pass out and the flames went out with me.

My father was infuriated. He was determined to keep my magic a secret because he was convinced if people knew they would try to use me. Dumbledore was willing to allow me to continue studying at Hogwarts for my fourth year so long as I learnt how to control my magic over the summer. My father, however, disagreed. Instead, he pulled me from Hogwarts for the rest of third year and sent me to Devi Calmarti, a school for mentally unstable witches and wizards in Italy (which is where he is from) for my fourth year.

To say the school was harsh would be an understatement, and I had it easy. I mean, there were students there who had actual bad mental issues, and the school's harsh methods for recovery weren't exactly motivating. If you didn't show any signs of recovery, you were punished. Students were given medication for conditions they didn't have, so that they'd become reliant on them and the staff would use them as 'rewards' for good behaviour. Any signs of backchat and you were beaten or starved, sometimes a mixture of both. Not only that but you were completely isolated from the outside world. Family visits were restricted to once every two months, and if your family had a problem with this the school would insist it was for 'encouraging recovery.' I hadn't seen any of my family and friends in just under a year except for when my brother visited me once over christmas.

Long story short, the school had done the exact opposite of what it promised. I had entered a girl with an attitude and struggles controlling my magic, and I was leaving traumatised. The most important thing, however, was that I was leaving. Today, the 21st of July, was my last day at Devi Calmarti. Hopefully for good. My father told me that if I got my magic under control by the end of the academic year, I would be allowed to return to Hogwarts for my fifth year, and I was excited to say the least. My magic was completely under control and-

Smelling the familiar smell of smoke, I looked down at the sketchbook in my hand which was now on fire. Quickly, I put the fire out and looked around. No one had noticed, I was fine. I looked back down at my sketch and it was now half burnt. So maybe it wasn't completely under control, but it was only when I felt strong emotions that they'd get out of hand, and like I said, I was very excited.

"Ms Nott?" I turned around to see the anger management counsellor standing behind me with that fake, snobby smile she always had plastered on her face. "Your brother is here to collect you." All of a sudden, every ounce of frustration and anger had left my body. Within seconds, I was running to my dorm room to collect all my luggage, taking no note of my roommate who was fast asleep. She was one of the unlucky ones, she wasn't going home.

I walked to the main reception and dropped my bags as soon as I saw my brother, running into his arms.

"TEDDY!" He turned to me with a big smile on his face and lifted me up, spinning me around.

"I missed you, sorellina!" He smiled as he placed me back down, ruffling my hair. I laughed but my smile dropped as soon as I turned to the person standing next to him.

"Eleonora." My brother's best friend. That stupid smirk, his hands in his pocket, his posture- Ugh! Everything about him was so infuriating! It was taking everything in me not to attack him that very moment, but I knew that one wrong move would result in me being tackled by the staff and classed as 'unfit' to go home. So instead, I take a deep breath and smile politely at him.

"Riddle."