addicted

chapter two

The cold sheets wound themselves comfortably around my legs.

The sound of other girls' snores filled the air.

The stars twinkled above me.

But I lay awake in my bed, replaying the entire scene that happened with Draco.

What did he mean 'stay safe'?

Why was he acting so different?

Similar thoughts swam through my mind as I drifted off to sleep, confused and frustrated.
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My eyes softly fluttered open to sunlight dancing on my face. I groaned and rolled over to check the time.

7:32 AM

I dragged myself out of bed and got changed into my Slytherin robe, along with my dress shirt, skirt and tie.

The Great Hall bustled with the noise of early-rising students. I glanced over at the Gryffindor table and saw that Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were all seated together, laughing at something.

"Twats," I mumbled under my breath and strolled away.

I sat down next to Izzy at the Slytherin table, piling fruit and toast on my plate. Sighing, I lifted the buttery toast up to my mouth and took a crunchy bite.

Asher bustled in, hair messy and tie loosely done.

"Hey guys, I slept in. What did I miss?" he said frantically sitting down next to Izzy and pecking her on the lips.

"Shit, what episode did I miss," I smirked. "Also you brute, class doesn't start for another half hour," I added, before taking a juicy bite of a strawberry.

Blaise erupted into a fit of laughter, his shoulders shaking.

"Nice one," he said, nudging me on the arm.

"Keep it in your pants, Blaise," I sneered. His face immediately flushed pink.

"What's up with you?" a cold voice said. I found that the source of the voice was Draco. He sat, nothing on his plate, and his eyes looking extremely tired. I couldn't help but question if he was okay.

"I don't know, why don't you tell me," I shot back.

Instead of making a snarky remark, he turned down to face his empty golden dish.

'What?' I thought. Draco always has something to say, it's almost awkward when he doesn't. I bit my lip in worry.
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Snape's dull, hard voice droned in the back of my mind as I sat on the uncomfortable wooden chairs. Blaise sat, shaking his knee to my left.

I found my chin resting in my hand as Snape purred on with the lesson.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was by far my favorite subject in the previous years, but given the fact that Snape had taken the job this year, I now despise it.

"Fuck, when does this class end?" I poked Blaise's shoulder.

"Merlin, I don't even know," he said.

I scoffed and rested my chin back in it's comfortable spot in my palm.

The school day dragged on, each class more boring and bitter than the last. I finally sat in the common room, at a dark oak table.

The scratch scratch sound of my quill burned in my ears as I completed my Potions Calming Draught Evaluation page, my Defense Against the Dark Arts Essay outline, and the other loads of homework due the next day.

"Ugh, I hate this," Izzy threw down her head dramatically.

"Yea, I know you do. You've mentioned it about 100 times in the past 5 minutes," I snapped.

Just then, a searing pain shot through my left forearm. I winced.

"You okay?" Izzy asked, with concern.

"Yea, I will be. I'm gonna head upstairs," I said quietly. I packed up all of my stuff and shoved it into my bag before rushing upstairs.

I threw my bag on the floor and hurried into the bathroom to shower. Rolling up my sleeve, I could see that the jet black ink of The Mark was melting down my arm like ice cream on a hot day.

Turning on the faucet, I let my arm rest underneath the cold stream of water. The ink was dripping down into the sink. Each drop would fall into the water and then dissolve away.

My Mark stopped dripping, but still burned like hell. I looked in the mirror and saw my watery eyes. I let the tears stream down my face. I weeped to myself, each cry echoing throughout the empty bathroom.

I was alone.

My cries soon became uncontrollable sobs. The sound of my quick breaths rang in my ears. My shoulders were shaking from each sharp gulp of the frosty air.
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I lay in bed, awake once again.  My arm was still stinging violently.

'Just ignore the pain' I thought to myself, over and over. My arm was pulsing, and with each quake of pain came a new set of tears.

I wondered if my parents had to go through the same thing. They were both death eaters. I hadn't seen my mother in years, every holiday I would spend isolated in my house with nobody to accompany me. It was awful.

Every Christmas, I would come home to an empty, cold house. No presents.

Every summer break, I would come home to a stuffy, deserted house. Nobody home.