Fate of Fangs, Claws, and Hearts | Marauders Fanfic / Part 1

15 - Yet the world stood upside down

Phil's POV:

Slowly, one foot in front of the other, I moved through the empty corridors. Dinner time had arrived, but hunger was the last thing on my mind. My evening had been spent with Professor Heffordson, the young, well-meaning but ineffective Professor of Magic who tutored me every Wednesday evening. Despite his efforts, my wand and I remained at odds. It often crossed my mind that my wand was broken, as each attempt at wielding magic seemed more disastrous than the last.
True, I had managed to levitate a book or two, but I had also managed to strike the professor on the head with them on two separate occasions. I simply struggled, and it frustrated me. If it were up to me, I could do without magic. But I was at Hogwarts, attending a school for magic.

Magic is stupid, I thought bitterly.

At a fork in the corridor, I paused. The labyrinthine passages of the castle were still a mystery to me, and getting lost had become a familiar routine. I veered left, wandering aimlessly. A few paintings hung along the stone walls, their occupants - witches and wizards in various states of undress - preparing for the night. Candleholders lined the walls, glowing with soft light. Perhaps these were enchanted too, but the thought of more magic repelled me. I wanted nothing to do with it today.
The corridor I entered was lined with tall windows on the right, each one a mirror against the darkness of the outside. Beyond the glass, the sky stretched out in a starless expanse, the windows reflecting the illuminated interior of the castle. My own reflection loomed back at me, but I looked away, unwilling to confront what I might see. Instead, I kept my gaze straight ahead, only to realise that this corridor was unfamiliar. I had taken a wrong turn. Again...
A sigh escaped my lips. The empty hallway, bathed in warm light, stretched out before me. I chewed my lower lip, trying to piece together a mental map of the castle, but the image eluded me. My time here had been too brief to learn the pathways.
Anger simmered beneath the surface. Why did it have to be so hard? Why could I not just make a book float or find my way back to my dormitory? The answer was obvious: I was useless, a failure at everything I attempted. The castle felt like a cage, and the more I thought about it, the more I resented my surroundings.
Turning towards the windows, my eyes met those of a girl’s reflection. She stood there, staring back at me, clutching a shoulder bag with one hand while the other hung limply at her side. Her school uniform clung to her thin, unhealthy frame. Red hair fell past her navel, brittle and in desperate need of a cut. But it was not just the hair - everything about her seemed broken. Even in this place, she did not belong. The girl in the window was looking out at the grounds of Hogwarts, her gaze fixed on the distant Forbidden Forest.

»You can still live the way you always have,« whispered a voice, soft but unmistakably my own. My reflection’s lips moved as it continued, »Catch some fresh air, Phil. This castle is no good for you. You’re just an animal in a cage here. Outside, there’s freedom.«

But out there, I’m alone, came my silent reply.

»And what’s different now, Phil? Who’s here with you? You left the forest without a word, only to run to these humans. Have you become one of them? Forgotten what we did, what I did for you? Now you’re trapped here, but you belong outside! Do I need to call you a monster to make you understand, Phil? Then fine, you’re a monster. So what? Embrace it! Be yourself!«

»No!« The word tore from my throat, and I clapped my hands over my ears, sinking to my knees. My head shook violently from side to side. Nonsense, all of it. The voice was wrong, was it not?

»Yes!«

»No, no, no...« I whimpered, tears stinging my eyes. The voice, so often right, was wrong now. It contradicted itself, first saying I could achieve anything, now demanding I return to the forest. It made no sense. None of it made any sense.
»Stop, just stop...«
»Stop?« A different voice cut through the turmoil, cold and mocking. My blood ran cold. »We haven’t even started, have we?« Laughter, sharp and cruel, echoed down the corridor. I buried my face in my hands, tears streaming freely. The last person I wanted to see me like this was here. I scrubbed my cheeks dry, or at least tried to, and slowly forced myself to stand.
Turning around, I came face-to-face with Mulciber Junior. Still in his Slytherin uniform, a smug smile spread across his lips. Only one companion flanked him tonight, but one was enough. My lower lip quivered, a quiet sniffle escaping. This day was already a disaster; Mulciber's presence only confirmed it could worsen.
»Had a rough day?« he taunted, moving closer. I studied him - tall, thin, his short, dark brown hair framing blue-grey eyes brimming with malice. His grin was slick, every step closer pinning me in place. There was nowhere to run. Only the windows offered an escape, and they led to a dark, unknown expanse.
A tear slipped down my cheek, and Mulciber seized the moment. His finger, long and cold, traced the path of the tear. He stopped in front of me, his finger running along the scar on my cheek, pressing down just enough to hurt. I held my breath, staring past his shoulder, willing myself to be anywhere but here. My tears flowed thicker.