Betrayal
Her hand hovered before the door for a full minute before she jerked away and attempted to calm her ragged breathing, eyes red-rimmed, hair damp and tangled.
I watched the girl in silence, pitying, fighting the urge to meddle. I couldn't fathom a pain deep enough to drive this shivering Ravenclaw to a woman so foul. I didn't even want to try.
The girl raised her hand again, ready to knock at door.
I finally spoke. "He can't be that bad."
The girl froze, slowly shifting to scan the corridor and eye the whispering portraits suspiciously. Her eyes came to rest upon me, glazing with tears and familiarity. As she turned away, I saw her draw a photo from her pocket, holding a dark-haired girl inches from her lips.
Understanding suddenly, I intruded no more as the girl clenched her fist and struck violently at the mahogany door.