The Tribrid and Her Reflection {COMPLETE}

She's Not Psychotic, She's H0rny

There were many places one could find peace at Hogwarts.

One of Hope's favorite sitting areas was located near the Greenhouses. The natural lighting and comfort of greenery swaying from hanging hooks above offered a tranquil experience. The calm, earthy scents of the space invited her to sit on one of the sleek wooden benches and enjoy the atmosphere.

Hope swallowed a mouthful of coffee that scalded her throat all the way down, pleasantly warming her belly. With one Grimoire opened on her lap and a stack more piled next to her, she'd be here a while.

It was a nice change in scenery.

Turning the leaves of her book carefully, Hope read through sections and sections of her grandmother's work. Many helpful things resided in these Grimoires. Still, none of them helped her understand how to manipulate an alternate dimension. Specifically, one residing within mirrors.

Newt and Albus were working tirelessly to find a way to draw the cloaked man out of the mirrors while Hope was trying to find a safer way in. She knew they were all on the same side, but she felt a little estranged from them at the moment. As if they were battling each other, trying to find a solution before the final buzzer.

It wasn't that Hope wanted to go back into the mirror dimension, but she also didn't want anyone hurt if he was forced out of it, either. At least her way, only she'd be in danger, not the entire staff at Hogwarts.

The stress was getting to everyone, most of all Hope. She could feel the tension and pressure building, leading to more frequent headaches. Just last night, she had to excuse herself to go to bed far earlier than usual, hoping to alleviate the stress on her body.

It felt like a boulder was pressing down on her. Throughout the day, the muscles in her body grew more strained and tired until she finally had to give in and let it crush her into sleep. When the morning came, she'd feel better, but it seemed the tension grew in intensity each day. Her body could handle less and less.

Tonics weren't helping. No amount of pressure-relieving orgasms seemed to do the trick. Additional exercise only made it worse. Hope wouldn't outright admit it, but it terrified her. The gradual process that she couldn't stop.

It was like standing in the middle of the road, watching a truck coming- blinded by headlights. Hope knew she should jump out of the way, but it was like she couldn't.

"You've been at this for a while." A light, springy voice came. Professor Hadridge paused as she walked by, holding a green watering can that sloshed when she stopped.

Looking up, Hope glanced around but didn't see a clock. "Have I?"

"It's just past noon," she nodded, "I saw you come in and sit down at eight this morning. What are you working on?" Hadridge leaned over a bit to glimpse a look at the Grimoire.

Hope slammed the book shut before she could get a good look, her heart lurching as heat rose up her neck and to the back of her eyes. A low growl rumbled deep in the back of her throat.

Immediately, Hadridge stepped back, her eyes widening as she clutched her watering can to her chest. "I-I'm terribly sorry. I don't mean to pry."

Blinking the heat away from her eyes, Hope lowered her shoulders carefully. She hadn't realized she'd tensed her body so much. It took a moment for her heart to slow again and even longer for the desire to rip Hadridge apart, piece by piece.

That was the most alarming part.

Hope envisioned slamming her to the ground, grabbing her arm, and yanking with such force the ligaments would tear and separate from her body. The blood would spurt like a water sprinkler, and Hope would watch the light leave her eyes.