As I made my way toward the Slytherin table, I could already feel the tension.
Mattheo, Theo, Draco, Blaise, Enzo, and the others sat huddled together, speaking in hushed tones. But the moment they spotted me approaching, their conversation abruptly stopped.
I ignored the way my stomach twisted at that.
Sliding into the empty space beside Theo, I set my plate down and tried to act normal. "Hey."
No one responded.
I glanced around the table. "So, we're still doing this, huh?"
Draco sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Theo just poked at his food with his fork. Blaise refused to look at me entirely.
And Mattheo?
He stared at his plate, jaw clenched so tightly I thought he might break a tooth.
I let out a humorless laugh, leaning back slightly. "You do know I can tell when I'm being ignored, right?"
Nothing.
I scoffed. "Unbelievable."
Theo finally spoke up, though his voice was quiet. "Not now, okay?"
"Not now?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You've been avoiding me all day—when exactly is 'now'?"
Again, no answer.
Frustration flared in my chest. "Is someone gonna tell me what the hell is going on, or am I just supposed to pretend everything's fine?"
Still, silence.
I turned to Mattheo. "You at least gonna say something?"
His grip on his fork tightened.
For a moment, I thought he was going to ignore me, too.
But then he finally lifted his head, eyes locking onto mine. And the look he gave me?
It wasn't anger.
It wasn't annoyance.
It was something else entirely.
Something pained.
But instead of answering me, he simply shook his head. "Drop it."
I let out a bitter laugh. "Right. Because that worked so well last time."
His eyes darkened. "I mean it."
I stared at him for a long moment, searching his face.
Then I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. "Fine. Whatever."
Pushing my plate away, I stood up. "Enjoy your little secret meeting."
And with that, I walked away, not bothering to look back.
As I stormed out of the Great Hall, frustration still bubbling in my chest, I suddenly remembered—I had to go to Dumbledore's office.
It was my first official training session. The first step in preparing for the war. The first step in preparing to face him.
I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting.
This was real now.
Taking a deep breath, I changed course, making my way through the castle's dim corridors toward the Headmaster's office. When I reached the entrance, the stone gargoyle stood unmoving, waiting for the password.
I racked my brain, trying to remember what it was this time. Dumbledore had a habit of changing it often.
Then it hit me.
"Sherbet lemon."
With a low rumble, the gargoyle shifted aside, revealing the spiral staircase behind it. I stepped onto it, letting it carry me upward before I knocked lightly on the wooden door.
"Come in," Dumbledore's voice called.
I pushed open the door, stepping inside.
The office was as cluttered as ever—silver instruments whirring on desks, books stacked high, and Fawkes perched nearby, watching me with his knowing gaze.
Dumbledore stood beside his desk, hands folded neatly in front of him, a calm expression on his face. But I didn't miss the weight behind his eyes.
He nodded once. "Are you ready?"
I hesitated.
Was I?
I wasn't sure. But I nodded anyway.
"Yes."
Dumbledore studied me for a long moment before gesturing for me to follow him. We moved toward the center of the room, where more space had been cleared.
"You have a gift unlike any other," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Magic without a wand is rare, but not unheard of. However, control is what makes it powerful."
I swallowed hard. Control. That had always been my problem, hadn't it?
He extended his hand, palm up. "Show me."
I hesitated before lifting my own hand. With just a thought, I focused on a small book on his desk, willing it to float. Instantly, it lifted into the air, hovering between us.
But then something shifted—my emotions spiked, and suddenly, the book shot across the room, knocking over a stack of papers.
I flinched.
Dumbledore, however, remained completely unfazed. If anything, he looked pleased.
"You see?" he said softly. "The power is already there. Now, you must learn to guide it, not just release it."
I took a breath, trying again. This time, I focused on keeping my emotions steady. The book lifted again—this time, gently. It floated for a moment before I set it back down without incident.
Dumbledore smiled.
"Good. Again."
And so, my training began.
After what felt like endless hours of training, my entire body ached, and my head was pounding from the intense focus. Dumbledore watched me carefully before finally nodding.
"I believe that is enough for today," he said gently. "You are making progress, but exhaustion will only cloud your abilities. Go get some rest."
I exhaled in relief, rolling my shoulders as I nodded. "Thank you, sir."
As I made my way out of his office and down the dimly lit corridors, I realized just how drained I felt. My magic had taken a toll on me, and my emotions were all over the place.
I wasn't just exhausted. I was overwhelmed.
Using that much magic had completely drained me. My limbs felt heavy, my vision blurred at the edges, and I had to steady myself against the cold stone walls as I made my way back to the common room. Each step felt like I was wading through thick fog, my exhaustion weighing me down.
As I finally entered the common room, I noticed my friends sitting together, their conversation stopping the moment they saw me. Their eyes flickered with concern, especially Draco's, but none of them said anything at first.
I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair as I took a shaky step forward. "What?" I asked, my voice coming out more tired than I intended.
No one answered right away. Instead, they just stared at me, their expressions unreadable. Mattheo leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his jaw tense. Draco looked like he wanted to say something but held himself back. Theo glanced at the others before shaking his head and looking away.
I let out a humorless chuckle, rubbing my temple. "Alright, cool. Just gonna stand there and stare at me, then?" My patience was already thin from exhaustion, and their silence wasn't helping.
Draco finally spoke, his voice quieter than usual. "You look like hell."
I scoffed. "Yeah, well... training for a war tends to do that to a person."
Mattheo's eyes darkened at that, his expression shifting into something I couldn't quite place. "You shouldn't be doing that alone," he muttered, gripping the arm of his chair tightly.
I frowned. "I wasn't alone. Dumbledore was there."
"That's not what I meant." His gaze locked onto mine, and for a second, I swore I saw something like anger flicker behind it. But at what? Me? Dumbledore? The situation?
I sighed, suddenly too exhausted to argue. "Look, I just need to sleep," I mumbled, turning toward the dorms. "Good talk, I guess."
But before I could take another step, someone grabbed my wrist. I turned to find Theo watching me closely. "You sure you're okay?"
I hesitated. I wasn't. But I was too tired to get into it, so I just nodded. "Yeah. Just tired."
He didn't look convinced, but after a moment, he let go. "Get some rest."
I gave a weak nod before heading to my dorm, ignoring the way I could still feel their eyes on me as I left.
As I took a step toward my dorm, my legs suddenly gave out beneath me. A sharp gasp left my lips as I hit the floor, my hands barely catching me in time. My whole body ached from exhaustion, the effects of pushing my magic too far catching up with me.
Before I could react, chairs scraped against the floor, and footsteps rushed toward me. But before anyone could reach me, I forced myself back up, gripping the nearest table for support.
"I'm fine," I muttered, breathless, refusing to meet their eyes.
"Like hell you are," Mattheo snapped, standing just a few feet away. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and for a second, I thought he might actually shake some sense into me.
Draco stepped forward, his expression a mix of concern and irritation. "You're being reckless."
I let out a dry laugh. "I don't really have a choice, do I?" My voice was quieter now, the weight of everything settling over me again.
Theo sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "At least sit down for a minute before you pass out."
I hesitated, stubbornness making me want to refuse. But the truth was, my body was already giving up on me. So, with a small nod, I let myself sink into one of the couches, trying not to let them see how badly my hands were shaking.
As soon as I sat down, a heavy silence settled over the room. I could feel their eyes on me, burning with questions they weren't asking—at least not yet. My head leaned back against the couch, my body sinking into the cushions, but the exhaustion was unbearable. Every muscle ached, my limbs felt weighed down, and my magic still buzzed under my skin, unstable and overused.
Mattheo sat across from me, elbows resting on his knees, watching me closely. "What the hell are they making you do?" His voice was quieter now, but there was an edge to it, barely controlled anger simmering beneath the surface.
I let out a slow breath, debating what to say. "Training," I finally answered. "Just... learning to control my magic."
Draco scoffed. "That's more than just training. You look like you've been through hell."
I shrugged. "Well, I kind of have, haven't I?"
No one responded to that. Theo leaned against the armrest of the couch beside me, arms crossed. "And what? They just push you until you collapse? That's their brilliant plan?"
I shook my head. "No, it's not like that. I just— I pushed myself too far. I have to get stronger. I don't have a choice."
Mattheo ran a hand through his curls, looking more frustrated by the second. "You always say that. Like you don't get a say in any of this. But you do. You can stop before you kill yourself trying to be their perfect little weapon."
I swallowed hard, my hands gripping the fabric of my skirt. "If I don't do this, people will die. You don't understand."
"We don't understand because you never tell us anything," Enzo cut in, his voice softer than the others but just as serious. "We see you destroying yourself, and we're supposed to just be okay with it?"
I looked away, my throat tightening. I hated this. The concern, the frustration, the way they cared. It made it harder to pretend like I was fine.
"I'm okay," I lied, forcing a weak smile.
"Yeah," Pansy muttered, shaking her head. "And I'm the bloody Minister of Magic."
No one believed me. And honestly? I wasn't sure I even believed myself anymore.
"When I use my... special magic... it just tires me out a lot. I'll be fine," I said, forcing as much certainty into my voice as I could manage.
None of them looked convinced.
Mattheo let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. "That's not normal, though. Magic shouldn't leave you barely able to stand."
"Mine does," I muttered. "It's different. You all know that."
Theo leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Yeah, we do. We also know that pushing yourself this hard is going to get you killed."
I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I don't have a choice. You think I want this?" I gestured at myself, still slightly shaking from exhaustion. "If I don't train, I can't control it. And if I can't control it, people will get hurt. It's better this way."
Draco scoffed. "Better for who? Because from where we're sitting, it looks like you're the one getting hurt."
I clenched my jaw, looking away. It wasn't that simple. It was never that simple.
Enzo, who had been quiet up until now, finally spoke. "Just... promise you won't push yourself like this again?" His voice was softer than the others, less angry, more worried.
I hesitated. I wanted to promise, to make them feel better, but I knew I couldn't. So instead, I just looked down and whispered, "I'll try."
It wasn't good enough. I knew that. But it was all I could give.
"Now that you've all decided to speak to me again," I snapped, crossing my arms, "why the hell are you being such cunts?"
Mattheo ran a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated breath. "We're not—"
"You are," I cut in. "You ignored me all day, acted like I didn't exist, and now you're sitting here lecturing me like you actually give a damn?"
Theo scoffed, shaking his head. "Are you serious? Of course we give a damn. That's the whole fucking problem."
I narrowed my eyes. "Then why are you acting like this? Why won't you tell me what's going on?"
Draco's jaw tightened, his expression unreadable. "You don't need to know."
That set me off. I let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, I don't need to know? Right, of course. Just like I didn't need to know why you all came back last night looking like you'd just been through hell? Just like I didn't need to know why Mattheo was smashing up the common room?" I shook my head. "You don't get to shut me out and then act like I'm the one in the wrong."
For a moment, no one said anything.
Then Mattheo exhaled sharply, looking away. "It's complicated."
I scoffed. "Right. And I guess I'm just too stupid to understand, huh?"
"That's not what we're saying," Enzo muttered.
"Then what the fuck are you saying?" I demanded. "Because all I hear is bullshit."
No one had an answer.
"Fine. I get it," I said, letting out a frustrated sigh. "You won't tell me. Whatever." I glanced around at them, my voice softening slightly. "But can you at least act normal around me? It's been a lonely fucking day."
Mattheo's expression faltered for a second, and Theo shifted uncomfortably. Blaise was the first to sigh and lean back, rubbing his face.
"Yeah," Blaise muttered. "We can do that."
Theo nodded, giving me a small smirk, trying to lighten the mood. "I suppose we have neglected our entertainment for the day."
Draco rolled his eyes. "You make it sound like she's a circus act."
"Depends on the day," Mattheo murmured, finally looking at me properly. There was something unreadable in his eyes, something softer.
I rolled my eyes but felt a bit of the weight lift from my chest. "Dickhead," I muttered, nudging him with my foot under the table.
He smirked. "There's our girl."
I let out a dramatic sigh, swaying slightly just to prove my point. "I need to sleep before I collapse," I announced, then shot them all a smirk. "Now, who wants to carry me like the princess I am?"
Theo rolled his eyes with a grin. "You're impossible."
Blaise stretched his arms. "Not it."
Draco scoffed. "You have legs, use them."
Before I could protest, Mattheo stood up, shaking his head with an amused smirk. "Come here, princess," he said, and before I could react, he scooped me up effortlessly.
I gasped but couldn't help but laugh, wrapping my arms around his neck as he carried me toward the dorms. "Knew you'd step up, Riddle."
He chuckled. "Someone's gotta keep your dramatic ass from actually collapsing."
I grinned, resting my head against his shoulder. "Lucky you, then."
Mattheo carried me all the way to my dorm, ignoring the amused looks from the others as we passed. When we got there, he gently set me down by my bed, his hands lingering for just a second before he stepped back.
"There. Safe and sound," he said, crossing his arms.
I smirked up at him. "Didn't know you were such a gentleman."
He scoffed. "Don't get used to it."
I rolled my eyes, kicking off my shoes. "Well, thanks, I guess."
Mattheo hesitated for a moment, like he wanted to say something else, but instead, he just nodded. "Get some rest, yeah?"
I gave him a lazy salute, already half-asleep. "Yes, sir."
He shook his head with a small chuckle before turning to leave, shutting the door behind him. I sighed, sinking into my bed, exhaustion finally winning over.
For once, I fell asleep easily—the exhaustion was too much to fight any longer. My body sank into the mattress, and for the first time in what felt like forever, sleep took me without resistance.