Motivation ? Tom Riddle ?

I felt the grime filling my body, seeping through my skin. All the feelings I felt were unexplainable and I wasn't able to put them into words. Dirty. Disgusting. Worthless. Those weren't even the worst of feelings. I felt as though I'd never be happy or clean again. Like the filth on Olly's hands would stay on me forever. I could still feel his tongue on my neck and his hands all over me. I stayed there, on the floor, shaking.

"You have to tell someone," were Emily's words of comfort, her hands patting my shoulders. I shook my head, my throat suddenly all dried up. "Better yet the Headmaster. He could get expelled - even thrown in Azkaban."

"No," I choked out, tears still dripping down my face. I didn't miss the helplessness in my voice. "No, I don't want anybody to know."

"Abby," Emily started, much more softness in her tone. She moved to kneel in front of me, stealing a swift disgusted glance at Olly who was still lying on the floor in front of us. She rested her hands on my shoulders. "You must report this. If you don't -"

"Then you will?" I said coldly, wiping the moisture off my cheeks.

"No," Emily said, her tone twice as cold as mine. Her lips pursed immediately and her eyes dropped from mine before they quickly flickered up again, and she shook her head, repeating the word in a much softer tone. "No. You must do it. You're the victim, here - it's not mine to share. And he is just a desperate bastard."

I sniffed once, blinking the fresh tears back. I looked behind her shoulder at Olly, who, obviously, would not stay paralysed forever. "What should we do with him?"

"Drag him in the fireplace."

"Emily!"

"What? It's a great plan! Nobody will know!"

Even in the darkest of times Emily still managed to get a small smile on my face, and she grinned back at me before standing, and helping me up off the floor.

"But, really," I started again, voice cracking. "What do we do with him? Just leave him here?"

Emily stared down at Olly in utter disgust, and her leg wobbled. She was keeping herself from kicking him. "Why not? He'll survive." Emily then turned back to face me. "Still want to go for that stroll on the grounds?"

I shook my head, the gruesome feeling hitting me again. "I want to shower," I mumbled, folding my arms across my chest.

Emily nodded sympathetically, something that angered me greatly, but I silently followed her up the dormitory stairs and into the girls dormitory, where she motioned for me to step quietly.

"In here," she whispered, opening the bronze doors that looked like a closet.

When I stepped inside, I was welcomed with four simple shower heads, white meter walls dividing them for privacy and a toilet in the corner of the room.

"Thanks."

"I'll bring you some of my clothes," she whispered again, and I watched her tiptoe to her draws and return with a long-sleeved green shirt and dark blue jeans. "When you finish, just come into my bed with me."

And with that, Emily quietly shut the door, and I suppose she tried her best tiptoeing to her bed, even though I heard her trip over a trunk and mumble an apology when the sound of a pillow was thrown.

I stripped and stepped into the water, not bothering to turn the cold knob. I wanted to get rid of the grime that I felt all over my body, and I scrubbed my skin furiously, angered sobs finally releasing themselves, and I let my cries out loudly now that the shower would block them out. My skin started to redden - whether it was from the hot, scalding water or my hands digging into my skin, I'd never know.