Chapter Twenty-Eight

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NOTE: I do not own any of the ideas or characters expressed in this story (except Cassie Jackson). All of these belong to J.K. Rowling.

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Cassie P.O.V.

          I’m so nervous, I can barely breathe. I wring my hands worriedly as I walk down the stairs as slowly as possible, heading to the dungeons. It’s about a half hour from curfew, so not many students are out in the hallways. Besides, with all these new rules, there isn’t much to do outside of our common rooms.

          Except head to detention, I think dryly. I finger the handle of my wand deep inside my pocket, my heart pounding incredibly fast as I come nearer and nearer to the Carrows’ office. I’ve brought my wand just in case, but I realize now that there’s no point. It’s not like I’ll be able to defend myself.

          I’m just turning into the last stairwell when Seamus Finnigan appears out of nowhere, and I skid to a stop to keep from crashing straight into him.

          “Sorry, I didn’t—“ I stop when I see the blood, my fear fading away to be replaced with nervous curiosity. Seamus looks down at me, holding his bleeding nose with a grin on his face.

          I take a step back and ask worriedly, “Is it…broken?”

          “Yeah,” Seamus replies easily. I notice that his white shirt is slowly turning red from his crooked nose, and I have the sudden urge to be sick. “Bloody Carrows.”

          Shaking my head, I say, “Well, it’s your own fault, you know. You didn’t have to mouth off to them.”

          “As I recall,” Seamus smirks, “you did the same thing as me, Jackson. On your way to detention?”

          I’ve never liked Seamus much. Glaring at him, I huff, “Maybe. Look, why don’t you just move out of the way and get to the hospital wing.”

          “But we’re having such a lovely chat,” Seamus continues, raising his eyebrow cheekily. “Don’t you want to stay and talk some more?”

          I try to move past him, but he’s blocking the hallway, adding to my frustration. “No. I want to get this over with.”

          Seamus sighs and steps to the side, replying, “Fine. But be ready for your detention, Jackson. Amycus seemed pretty pissed.”

          Rolling my eyes, I move past him finally. “I think I can handle it.”

          “And Jackson?” I turn reluctantly at the sound of Seamus’s voice, and he continues with a smirk, “Your split lip makes you look ten times sexier, just so you’re aware.”

          He’s gone before I even have the chance to think of something to say. Who the hell does he think he is, talking to me like that? Grumbling under my breath, I stomp down the last stairwell in annoyance.

          The only good thing that came out of bumping into Seamus is that he at least distracted me from my worries for a little while. On the flip side, I’m now so worried I feel sick. Amycus broke Seamus’s nose just for mouthing off during the lesson—what if he does something worse to me?

          Even though I can’t see myself, I’m positive that my face has turned a light shade of green. As I reluctantly continue on my way, I press my lips together tightly to keep from vomiting all over the stairs.

          I turn the last corner and see the door to the Carrows’ office, but my legs feel stiff and I stop. My eyes must be impossibly wide as I realize that I can’t do it, I can’t go inside. I’m terrified of what will happen once I walk through that door.

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