When Hogwarts reopened its gates after the war, Draconia returned with silence as her only companion.
As she tries to gain his footing in the midst of the aftermath of war, with memories haunting her every step, and the Potter's obsession. She had t...
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Chapter 10
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Draconia welcomed her new companion into her room once again, feeling so incredibly warm despite the cold. There were excited words exchanged with Blasie over finally having something or someone to make her feel more and to give her a purpose to finally finish this year. He replied with a few books; Cats and meows, which focused on their body language and Furball care, which is filled with so many ways to make your new cat feel taken care of and secure. She was delighted when another package was delivered with cat toys and colorful ribbons to tie on Scarhead's neck.
Scarhead took his new surroundings with much less space to room and high quality food with ease. Draconia's suspicion about it being a former pet was confirmed when it refused to use the letter box she provided and instead used the loo. But after yesterday's events, and feeling finally happier with the feline in her life, she won't return it to its previous owner; if they were caring for her Scarhead he wouldn't have run away or gotten lost and hurt in the Forbidden forest. She vowed to herself that she would be the best and the only owner Scarhead would ever have and that she would never hurt it or neglect it or not properly take care of it.
Two days had passed and all Draconia could do was play with Scarhead and learn more and more about its antics. The huge feline was a true menace and got a twisted addiction with testing her limits but it was also quite cuddly and soaked her attention like a sponge.
Thursday came cold and fierce with snow storms that drowned Hogwarts for the next twelve hours.
Her room was freezing despite the warming charms; without the fireplace and the comfortable smell of burning logs, Draconia's body was restless at the end of the day. Scarhead's body was a comfort of its own, how it cuddled into her for warmth too. And usually, Draconia had made a small bed at the corner near an enchanted window for Scarhead to sleep on as it liked to bathe in the warm light of the enchanted sun outside the window. She was grateful to have the feline so close to her.
But that didn't stop the nightmares from coming knocking.
Draconia woke with a raspy scream, trashing madly as she fought the invisible, heavy strains on her limbs, she felt tears and blood prickling her throat, stinging as though she'd drunk salty water. Draconia felt the throb of her tongue as she unconsciously bit on and almost choked when she tried to move it around her mouth but instead, it felt heavy. Draconia's chest heaved as she tried to wipe the tears and blood running freely on her chin and staining her lips.
She couldn't stop the ghost of pain she felt, the terror of being so helpless underneath her aunt's merciless torture, unable to move. She still felt Bellatrix's blunt nails digging into her mouth as she ran her blade over it harshly. She still felt her aunt's body weight on her and her magic-bending chains on her limbs— Draconia's screams were unanswered, as Bellatrix's taunting voice filled her ears.
