A Spirit's Strength || ON HIATUS

T H R E E

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"Where are we?"

Marinette's questioning voice bounced off the stone walls that had shrank thinner and thinner the longer the two rivals had strolled deeper into the dungeons until the path portrayed a narrow passage where only a few green lit lanterns had served to them as their flashlight throughout the dark hall; she found that the walls of the corridor they have taken was slightly damp and wet as a few large green blobs of moss sprouted from the rough vertical surfaces like splattered green paint while the road leading them towards wherever is the black end had also been trampled with water as if the rain had snuck through the dungeon's ceilings despite that the area was an underground of the Hogwarts Castle.

The raven head had been more sensitive towards her surroundings when Chloé had took a sharp turn a while ago when she had ordered her to follow the girl after she had agreed to each other's terms, though it appears that the blonde's quest was the first matter that the two had to reliably disintegrate before they could proceed with the main bottomline of the verbally signed agreement. Marinette had been, and still is, surprised when the witch had unexpectedly conceded towards her simple task, although unfortunately, it seems that she also had pulled an exchange of trades under her robes' sleeves that was an unknown request of her own and the raven witch wasn't surprised to hear that from her when she knew to herself that she had to be ready for whatever tricks that her Slytherin rival had conducted from the flick of her magical wand.

The tailing girl continued to survey her gaze all over the green lit alleyway as she trailed her footsteps in sync with the blonde before her who decided to remain silent as their shoes clicking and clacking answered the question for her despite that its clashing tap sounds weren't quite helpful for the raven head to muster. She glanced once more towards the black pit right in front of them, she then wondered why the Slytherin's territory had to be filled with a series of gloomy plasters and melancholy backgrounds – Marinette might not have always wandered around the grounds of the Slytherin house but, she had firmly believed that the green and silver linings had appeased themselves of the evil bleak theme that they were infamously portrayed as which causes the mere rumors of the Slytherin evil to come alive, though she had completely witness those banters to be horridly false when she had previously recalled a few of her friends who were placed under the snake's house, most especially a certain blonde boy who had the clever wits to keep himself out of trouble – her lips pursed lightly when she reminded herself of the reason why she only let Alya know of her current plans, her bluebell orbs burning at the back of the witch's honey blonde hair.

Though on the front tier of the duo, Chloé had quietly sighed when she felt the raven head's eyes longing curiously at the end of her high ponytail for the umpteenth time since the both of them had left the Slytherin's Common Room, albeit Marinette had been intently asking and grabbing score of a conversation to strike between them, she had told herself to slam her pink lips shut and grit her pearly whites together until they had reached the starting point of the thrilling satisfaction where the seizing throne would be held for the lady in waiting walking behind her and just then would she be able to firmly speak with her unwavering demand. The leading girl's lips tugged upwards when she imagined an exact scene playing in her mind that would soon seal the fate of the Gryffindor witch's crown while she stood on the sidelines to witness the downfall of the precious little Dupain-Cheng, she had badly wanted to reverse her marked legend to prove others the sorcery that her rival had set on them – if everything had turned out to be what she expected: a blatant lie.

Once the girl realized that they were already drawing themselves closer to the nearer end of the secret passage of the dungeons, she switched her gaze from the dark hole towards the water-dripping ceiling above them – careful not to fully angle her head upwards for the raven head to suspiciously notice – as she discreetly rotated her head, as if her neck had ached, only to peer her blue eyes over the translucent hanging creatures that covered themselves with their pale blue wings that had maintained a camouflage of black which resembled the dark hues of the ceiling to hide themselves from the peeking green light of the lanterns; her smirk grew wider as the ghostly beings grew in number the deeper the two of them headed inside the long narrow pathway with her chin confidently held up high, it would only be a matter of time before the main experiment of the day will begin.