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TW blood, injuries, stupid boys!!(also pretty sure wattpad glitched again so these may be out of order!!)
Josephine lies in her dorm, gazing up at the ceiling, the late hour ticking past 2 a.m. Yet, sleep eludes her, consumed as she is by the relentless grip of guilt that refuses to release its hold.
Despite her exhaustion, the weight of her conscience keeps her mind awake, a weary battle against the tiredness that settles over her like a suffocating blanket.
With a resigned sigh, she finally decides to rise from her bed, exchanging her pajamas for something more practical and slipping on a pair of shoes before quietly leaving her dorm.
The common room is shrouded in darkness, a few scattered books evidence of the late-night studies of her fellow Ravenclaws. Josephine bypasses the deserted tables and makes her way out of the common room, descending the stairs into the dimly lit corridors of the castle.
Her thoughts involuntarily drift to Regulus, a name she can't seem to escape, though she is far from ready to forgive him, not yet.
As she walks, the flickering candlelight along the walls provides some illumination, but she still needs her wand to light her path in the darkness.
Her mind returns to the source of her sleepless torment: Euphemia. Despite the past hurts inflicted by her adoptive mother, Josephine can't shake the guilt of knowing that her own actions have contributed to Euphemia's injury.
If it was Fleamont harmed instead, she might even welcome it, a twisted testament to the complexities of her emotions.
Lost in her thoughts, she is brought back to reality by the sound of voices echoing around the corner. A prefect, perhaps? But something about the laughter sounds sinister, sending a shiver down her spine.
Quickly extinguishing the light on her wand, Josephine pauses before the corner, straining to listen without revealing her presence. It becomes apparent that these are no prefects or professors.
A cruel, mocking laugh pierces the air. "Pathetic" A male voice says. She hesitates, her heart pounding in her chest, uncertain of what lies beyond the shadows.
Then, amidst the shadows, Josephine hears a small whimper—a girl's voice.
Her grip tightens on her wand as she strains to hear more. "Please—" the girl's plea is cut short by the muttering of a spell.
Though she can't see what is happening, the chilling realization settles in her gut.
Just as she moves to intervene, a male voice pierces the silence. "You're friends with that girl, right? Josephine Potter?"
It is Marcus. His tone drips with malice, sending a chill down Josephine's spine.
The girl lets out another whimper, prompting Josephine to wonder about Marcus's intentions.
