𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒 | h. potter

13 | The Taste Of Sin

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THE TASTE OF SIN

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Madam Pomfrey took one look at Maya and immediately frowned, stern eyes focusing on the dark circles under her brown eyes. It had been three days since the incident in the bathroom. Maya shifted uncomfortably and quickly focused her magic to hide them using her metamorphic abilities, though this didn't make the matron any more pleased.

Tutting, she questioned, "You haven't been getting much sleep, have you?"

Without waiting for a response she bustled around the hospital wing and returned with a palm sized flask containing a potion rich with hues of deep purple. "Take this with you; it's a Sleeping Draught. Add three drops to your drink before you go to bed, and you should feel drowsy and enter a dreamless sleep for a few hours."

The haunting image of Ginny's petrified face flashes in her mind, and Maya doesn't hesitate to take the flask with a weak but grateful smile.

"Thank you."

Madam Pomfrey flapped her hands, shaking her head. "Now off you go, I don't want to see you back here for a while. Make sure you finish your meals, Miss Riddle!"

Maya nodded and walked out of the hospital wing determined not to look back, but she should have known that wouldn't make her feel any safer. She clenched her fist, taking deep breaths to control the panic rising in her chest, drowning out the slimy voice in her head by sheer willpower. So focused on her thoughts, she only narrowly avoided running into Hermione, who was charging through the corridors, arms close to bursting.

"Maya!" Hermione's eyes brightened as she slowed down to a more moderate, fast-paced walk, dragging the girl along by the force of her words down a niche opening. "When did you get out? And how are you feeling?"

Maya paused. "Just now, I've had worse days."

That response seemed to elicit a grimace from Hermione. "Look, about what Ron said—"

"It's fine." Interrupted Maya, looking down, knowing in her heart that nothing was fine. "He was...angry. And scared. He had every right to be suspicious of me, and I don't blame him because it was mmm—"

She forced herself to stop. Breathe. The black thing slowly loosened its hold on her vocal chords. Breathe.

She swallowed thickly, and tried again. "Is Ron still...?"

Hermione was shaking her head at Maya's self-accusatory tone, but paused to frown at her odd behaviour. "He's still a little angry," she responded slowly, eyes scrutinising. "But I think after what happened in the hospital wing the last time he lashed out made him see sense. It made him realise you didn't come out of it unaffected, that whatever got Ginny must have gotten you too..."

You don't say. She gave a tight smile, deciding to change the topic. "Where are you going with all this stuff?"

Hermione grinned excitedly, a steely glint of determination in her brown eyes. "I'll explain it all to you on the way. The boys are there too — I think you'll like this."

***

She needed to stop them.

"After you add the hair in wait for it to change colour, then you have to drink the whole thing," instructed Hermione, scooping thick sludges of mottled-green goop into ceramic cups. She was kneeling on the floor in an unused bathroom stall, surrounded by odd ingredients and three pairs of bewildered eyes. Why did everything always seem to end up happening in the girls' bathroom, of all things?