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Chapter 144

The days at Hogwarts had taken on a bleak, monotonous rhythm, each one dragging on longer than the last. The joy that once filled the castle was gone, replaced by an oppressive atmosphere that seemed to seep into every stone, every corridor.

Your classes were a particular struggle, as you were forced to teach the abhorrent curriculum your father had imposed—vile rhetoric about blood purity and the supposed inferiority of Muggles. The words tasted bitter on your tongue, and each lesson felt like a betrayal of everything you believed in.

Today had been no different. You had gone through the motions, repeating the hateful propaganda to your students while feeling a deep sense of guilt gnawing at you. When the final class of the day ended, you felt utterly drained, the weight of the deception you were forced to maintain pressing down on you like a physical burden.

Seeking solace, you made your way to the Astronomy Tower, a place where you could at least find some solitude. The tower had always been a refuge for you—a place where you could look out at the vastness of the sky and feel a sense of perspective, even when the world below seemed to be crumbling. But even that comfort was tainted now, the tower forever marked by the memory of what had happened there—the night you had taken Dumbledore's life.

You settled near the edge of the tower, your back against the cold stone as you slipped a single earbud into your ear. The small, handheld portable radio you had managed to hide from the watchful eyes of the Carrows crackled to life, a faint, comforting sound in the otherwise silent night.

You tuned it to the broadcast that listed the names of missing families, each one a reminder of the horrors unfolding beyond the castle walls. The names rolled over you like a wave, each one a fresh wound on your conscience.

You were so lost in your thoughts, in the despair of it all, that you didn't hear the footsteps behind you until it was too late. The voice that broke the silence made your heart skip a beat.

"The Dark Lord requires your presence in Hogsmeade," Amycus Carrow's voice slithered through the air, filled with a smug satisfaction that sent a chill down your spine. "I have been sent to accompany you."

You turned your head slowly, your heart pounding as you saw him standing there, his wand already drawn and aimed at you. The look in his eyes was predatory, and you could feel the malice radiating from him as he watched you, waiting for any sign of defiance.

Carefully, you got up from the edge of the tower, every movement deliberate, trying to mask the surge of fear and anger rising within you. This was the spot where Dumbledore had fallen, and standing here now, with Carrow's wand pointed at you, it felt as if the tower itself was a grave—a place where hope had died.

You knew better than to resist. Whatever reason your father had for summoning you, it would be better to comply and avoid drawing suspicion. "Fine," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. "Let's go."

Carrow's lip curled into a sneer as he stepped forward, snatching your bag from you. You reached out to protest, but he was quicker, holding it out of your reach. "I'll be holding onto this," he said, his tone dripping with false politeness.

There was nothing you could do but follow as he led the way down from the tower, through the castle, and out onto the grounds. The familiar paths of Hogwarts felt twisted and wrong, the air heavy with an unnatural stillness. Even the once-bustling village of Hogsmeade was a ghost town, its streets empty, the shops closed and boarded up.

The Three Broomsticks loomed ahead, its windows dark, the cheerful atmosphere that once filled the pub long gone. Carrow pushed open the door, and you stepped inside, the warmth of the room doing little to chase away the cold fear that settled in your stomach.