Bound by secrets

Chapter 13

It had been a week since the attack, and while the bruises on my skin were faint now, the weight of what happened still lingered heavily on me.

Every night I would wake up with my heart racing and tears flooding from my eyes due to the traumatic nightmares that made me relive that night over and over. It was like when I closed my eyes I was trapped in a neverending hell.

Every morning, I would catch a glimpse of the faded marks in the mirror, and the memories would come rushing back—the violation, the feeling of helplessness, the way my body had been reduced to something broken.

My friends had been relentless in their search for answers. They were doing everything they could to figure out who the bastard was, but we were coming up with nothing.

The seventh-year boy was a ghost. No one knew his name, no one remembered seeing him. It was like he didn't exist. Even the Marauder's Map, which we managed to get our hands on briefly, showed us nothing useful, just footsteps with no name.

Day after day passed, and with each one, my hope dwindled. I had started to feel like I was screaming into a void, and all I wanted was some closure—something to make sense of the chaos that had shattered my life.

I was heading back to the Slytherin common room after Herbology, trying to push the lingering bitterness from my mind, when I rounded a corner and collided with Astoria Greengrass.

"Sorry," she said, but her tone wasn't annoyed. In fact, it was almost... sympathetic. Her eyes locked on mine, and there was a look of something like pity in them. "I heard about what happened to you in the Prefects bathroom."

My stomach twisted. "What?" I asked, my voice sharp.

She gave me a small, sad smile. "I'm really sorry, Y/N. No one deserves that."

My blood boiled. I clenched my jaw, trying to control the rising anger. "Who the hell told you about that?" I spat, not in the mood for her pity or her concern. One of my friends had clearly blabbed, and I wasn't going to let it go.

I didn't need people whispering behind my back, treating me like I was some kind of victim they needed to feel sorry for.

Astoria blinked, taken aback by my question. "I just—"

But I didn't let her finish. I turned on my heel, storming away from her without another word. Fury coursed through me, fueling my every step as I headed straight for my next class.

My thoughts swirled in anger—who had told her? We'd kept everything quiet. No one outside our group knew, not even the professors. Why would one of them talk?

After the last class, I burst into the common room, I found all of them gathered on the sofas as if waiting for something. They looked up when I entered, and I wasted no time.

"Who told Astoria?" I demanded, glaring at each of them in turn. "Who fucking told her about what happened to me?"

Nora raised her hands defensively. "Y/N, we didn't—"

"Bullshit!" I snapped. "She just apologized to me for what happened. How the hell would she know if one of you didn't tell her?"

Draco stood, his expression darkening. "No one told anyone, Y/N. We promised to keep this between us."

"Then how does she know?" I shot back. "Someone had to have said something."

Theo stood as well, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "None of us would do that to you. You know that."

The room was tense, my frustration building as I stared at them, willing one of them to confess, but they all looked as confused and angry as I felt. It didn't make sense. How would Astoria know?