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15 | scourgify

scourgify

charm; cleans target object[s]

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HEADACHES WERE CRUEL, EVELINA DECIDED, pulling her wand out sleepily as she tried to make sense of whatever was on the board. Holding back a yawn by pressing the back of her hand against her mouth, she ran her fingers across her face as she slumped in her seat. Two days without sleep, and she was practically the walking dead.

No need to worry about dying anymore, she supposed. After all, you can't be scared of becoming something that you already are.

Perhaps she was being the slightest bit dramatic, but it really hurt. She didn't know what was going on in her woozy state, and it wasn't fun for her. Normally, her hand was the first one raised, but today she was... tired, to say the least. In fact, she didn't answer any questions at all, resorting to laying her head on her desk as she resisted the urge to bang it until she was okay again.

It hurt so much that it almost felt like magic.

Her head popped up, an invisible bulb lighting above her head. What if it was magic?

Could it have something to do with the chamber?

Or maybe it was one of Tom's petty followers who was jealous...

But it could be someone trying to get rid of her as competition—after all, the first Quidditch game of the year was due to take place today. Hufflepuff vs. Slytherin, an obvious outcome, but it would lighten the atmosphere up by lifting some of the tension off the student's shoulders that had become hunched with fear. As the keeper, she was the most important person on the team... or so she thought, although many would argue that seeker was a better position.

Playing against her old house would be interesting, especially since she'd gotten the old Slytherin keeper kicked off the team in a second trial when she'd shifted houses. There may be some bad blood between them, but at least she was in her true house now—the one that would do anything to win.

Ambitious, cunning, ruthless. These were the most prominent traits of the emerald and silver house, the one that she really belonged in. The sweet Hufflepuffs couldn't hold a flame against them. They were gentle, and often they lost because their beaters were too scared to hit the bludger in fear that they would hurt someone on the opposing team, or even their own.

Evelina knew from experience.

Every single time that happened, she'd internally cast a muffliato over herself, just so she didn't have a nice talk with them. It was pretty hard it control her anger, but now she didn't have to. Because finally, Evelina Moreau was playing on the correct side; the winning side.

Hufflepuff had lost nearly every time, except when they'd played the Ravenclaws a couple of times and they had been too busy thinking strategy. The blue house had learnt a lot since then, and they started a winning streak. The Hufflepuff had one victory against the Gryffindors as well, but Evelina always believed that it was some miracle—and of course the fact that they'd had Evelina herself had helped. But they had never beat Slytherin...

Lost in thought, she didn't even notice as the professor called out her name. "Ms. Moreau? Ms. Moreau! Are you alright?"

Wearily, she looked up when her partner tapped her softly on the shoulder. "Pardon?"

"I think you should go to the infirmary..." Her potions teacher said.

Tom looked at her worriedly, raising his hand slowly. "I could take her."

"Thank you, Tom!" She said, face brightening. "Now shoo, off you two go. I hope you get well soon, Evelina."

"Thank you," Evelina said blankly.

Slowly, she began walking to the infirmary, Tom silent at her side.

The air between them was somewhat strained, and Evelina just couldn't figure out why... maybe it was his icy aura or his hunched posture, but something wasn't right. He was more stressed than usual and Evelina wanted to find out why.

She didn't love him, but there was a tiny part of her heart that betrayed her and worried about his unusual status. His normally neatly combed hair was messy, and his lips were slightly chapped and bitten, like he'd been worrying about something. The worst part was that his gorgeous blue eyes, the ones that would look at her with so much emotion hidden behind an unfeeling mask the color of a melting glacier were dull and unfocused.

She ran a hand through her own hair as she looked at him, turning away as she realised the way bordering on staring. His wand peeked out of his robes, the pale wood beautiful and dangerous. Was that yew wood?

Evelina shook her head slightly to herself; it couldn't be. Not Rowena's—

She quickly built a wall up around her mind, Evelina had completely forgotten that Tom was as skilled a legilimens as she, able to read her thoughts with ease if she wasn't constantly on guard. Sometimes she just found it so tiring to put up with someone who could match her, it wasn't everyday she met someone who may be able to beat her.

He was intriguing, but infuriating.

He was charismatic, but dangerous.

He was magnetic, yet he repelled her.

He was Tom, and he was a riddle that she simply hadn't figured out yet.

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