"Sooner or later, you will have to face your darkest fears."
I hugged the two books against my exalted chest that could not calm down. Again that man had played with me and then without further ado, he had kicked me out of there. I wanted to explode once and for all, I couldn't stand this pressure anymore. I couldn't stand any more insults, more beatings with Isobel, more contempt... I wanted to burst into tears and that with my tears my soul would also be extinguished.
My body floated. My skin was in contact with the green sheets that were sliding all over my bed. I could feel the cold, damp air brush against my skin and make me shiver. The breath that came slowly from inside me and the audible beat of my poor heart, made my thoughts go in only one possible direction... his body.
Just to remember his hands on my body, his lips with mine, and his voracious eyes. In my stomach the butterflies did not stop flying towards a terrible and deep well of irremediable pain. I couldn't stop thinking about Snape. My heart beat for him. I closed my eyes and there he was with me again. My chest burned without being able to avoid it, I looked at the ceiling of the submerged room. I looked out the window, and the bluish water behind his glass. Now my heart was like this, like water. So lonely, so sad, so... blue.
I was lying on my canopy bed, with the two books beside me on the bed, the note he gave me in one hand and the healing potion in the other. Why was he trying to help me now? What the hell was he playing at? And why did my body miss him? Why? I looked at the bottle and I looked at the note, they were totally contradictory to each other. The potion would fix Izzie's zombie aspect, and on the contrary the note told me not to do it… Why? What would Snape think of my sister? Maybe he thought she was behind all this. Or he just hated himself for wanting a mudblood like her.
Well, at least this simple fact that he ached for Isobel was hilarious to me. She would never love him, and if she found out about this she would surely loathe him as she admired Snape for his cruelty. I'd like to imagine the look on her face when she saw Snape propose to her.
I sat up from my comfortable position on the bed. I looked at the two books, side by side. Now I should do some more research on Saint Meh but... there was also the possibility of healing this annoying wound on my buttock. And I opted for the cure, which was more tempting for me. I got up from the bed, standing up with some difficulty, and walked to the bathroom where I kept a crystal glass inside the closet that I would use for this. After getting there and taking the crystal glass, I filled it about half and limped back to bed where uncertainty awaited me.
I hesitated between doing it or not. What if he had cheated on me? With that twisted mind of his, he could have, and with no regrets. And he would poison his beloved? No, there was no longer any possible doubt. I was sure he wouldn't do that even if he wanted to. If he had proposed to lose my virginity with him, he must have been very much in love with my sister... That was very difficult for me to accept, since he for me... No, I shouldn't think about that anymore. It was devastating me. I sat back on the bed looking at the little bottle, and time was pressing. I carefully opened the lid of the small vial and poured a single drop into the glass I was holding.
Immediately, as soon as that single drop fell into the glass, its liquid took on a blue color that began to bubble. It increased its volume a little bubbling but soon returned to its initial state of calm with a bluish touch.
—Cheers to me.
I swallowed suspiciously the liquid of suspicious blue color. And I left the glass along with the bottle on the table next to my bed. I didn't even dare to taste it, I was afraid that its taste would be similar to goblin piss. But it turned out that the deadliest thing was not its taste but its effect.
Suddenly my right buttock began to hurt intensely. I fell round on the bed enduring the itching that increased by the moment. And then it turned cold. Everything ended and nothing hurt me anymore. I managed to get up and go to the bathroom without any difficulty. I ran down my pants to remove the bandage and see that there was nothing under there.
I smiled pleased with the result achieved, I returned to the room jumping for joy. I took the crystalline vial and put it in my pocket. That liquid was miraculous, haha. Yes, and it had also put me in a good mood. I tore up that note from Snape, put my poetry book back where it belonged, and scooped Saint Meh up under my arm. Today I would have to find out about his whole life during the mass dedicated to Alice. Essay on Saint Meh, what secrets do you have to teach me?
And there I was. I had arrived at the great hall just in time for the great mass. And the most amazing thing was climbing the stairs without any pain. The great dining room was different today, there was a smell of sadness and pain in the air... The illusion of the ceiling had disappeared, I could see the exposed wooden vault. Rarely have I seen the room like this. The room was barely illuminated by the first rays that peeked through the large windows, those gigantic windows that seemed gloomy for the first time today. From the ceiling hung the Hogwarts emblem on a black cloth that referred to mourning. Today seemed like a totally different room than yesterday.
The students of my house were already almost all there, and the others were scrambled in different groups of various colors with the emblems of their corresponding houses. I saw Sarah surrounded by a group of Slytherins with sad faces staring insistently at the ground. The teachers were arriving as the clock ticked to twelve o'clock, one of the first to arrive was Snape. He wore a sour face and his legs seemed electric as they made their way to his seat in the front row. My eyes followed his dark trail through the crowd. My body trembled at the stern look on his face. I wished I could take a few minutes away from my teacher. How stupid I felt, how selfish. I should be sad for Alice, instead of feeling this heat...
Professor Dumbledore made an appearance in the great room and little by little the students were sitting in rows on both sides of the narrow corridor. I heard some muffled whimpers in the distance. The room in a few minutes was completely filled with wizards and witches, some wizards with unknown faces were also present there. The elderly wizard, headmaster of Hogwarts gracefully crossed the room, his face denying any trace of past happiness. He walked slowly showing his sorrow with the death of the student. He reached his destination on the stairs of the room and looked at all of us with his tired eyes. I had never seen this vulnerable part of him.
—Thank you all so much for coming today. I know that many of you did not have the pleasure of meeting Miss Alice Summers. It's a very sad day for the wizarding world, for all of us. It is a great pain and it seems to us that everything is lost forever. It's something a young person should never go through. A premature death, a murder of a friend, a loved one, a loss never replaced. An affection that is sincere from the heart will never die. The memory of the people who were dear to us will live forever in our hearts.
As Professor Dumbledore spoke to us, I shifted my gaze to my lap, where the book on Saint Meh rested. I looked both ways in case anyone was looking at me, but they were paying close attention to their talk. Actually I felt a little guilty for not being attentive but I had no choice, since with this death they will close Hogwarts for a long time. I opened the book cautiously and flipping through its first pages I discovered the first lines.
I welcome you reader to this critical essay on Saint Meh. This is an extensive essay valued by the critics of the magical world as an exceptional book. I hope that my endless investigations satisfy your curiosity and interest in such a renowned character of yesteryear. My name is Michelle Rainred, a writer from London born in...
Blah, blah, blah. Her life did not interest me at all, she spent half a page talking about herself and her extensive research. I passed this Michelle, lady boring and I went a few pages later, directly to the index of the light book that I held:
Index
Who is Saint Meh?
What did he do?
What is Saint Meh night?
What do the wizards think about him?
How did I discover Saint Meh?
Has anyone seen Saint Meh?
The deaths of young virgins during the last centuries.
I just needed to learn the basics about Saint Meh without actually learning his life by heart. The three points would first be enough to assert myself in Snape's eyes that I wasn't ignorant. OK lets start. I advanced a few pages until I found the blue letters that gave the first chapter of the book and began to read concentrated.
Who is Saint Meh?
Saint Meh was a wizard named Graham Johns Meh born in 1413 into a family of wizards in southeastern England. He studied magic at home with his parents and went to a muggle school. After a few years of Muggle studies and scientific study at home, he married a Muggle named Angelica Dean who became Mrs. Johns.
He became a demon because of a mistake in an experiment and killed his wife by accident. He disappeared but it is said that every hundred years he reappears over the earth devastated by guilt seeking the heart of a virgin to free his soul condemned to wander this world. He is the patron of sinners.
Now I had found out who Saint Meh was. A failed and disastrous magician... But well, what can we do... The writer made some comments on the rest of the page and I chose to skip them and continue a few pages later.
What did he do?
He was working on research on European dragons, but at the age of 35, while researching the properties of the scales of the Ukrainian Ironbelly, a potion went wrong and exploded on his skin. He became a demon, he killed his wife in an act of fury and transformation. After that, he repented he wanted to take his own life but it turned out to be more difficult than he expected. From then on he studied himself for many years but found neither cure nor death.
Of course he had been a poor wretch... I turned the pages ignoring the footnote of this absurd novel for rookies.
What is Saint Meh night?
Every 100 years on the fourth new moon of the year the night of Saint Meh is celebrated, it is a ritual of offerings of pure blood to the patron saint of sinners to have a good life.
Saint's name comes from the belief of some fifteenth-century dark wizards that his demonic power went beyond death itself. Today many dark wizards still acknowledge his demonic power, and offer virgin blood on altars in their homes to have a prosperous year.
They wrote a book about Meh in the year 1528. It was based on Graham Johns research papers on his demonic transformation which failed to stop ''Dark Rituals in the Night of Saint Meh''. The book was written by a researcher named Ernest Wecker who learned of the existence of Saint Meh through secret meetings of dark magicians and tried to summon him through rituals with the deaths of several young women during the 1530s, however he was persecuted by the holy inquisition and condemned to the stake for witchcraft. The book was lost during the witch hunt in the 16th century. According to legend, whoever frees Saint Meh will be rewarded with his demonic powers.
Wow... Now I understood Snape's nerves. This was very serious and certainly not the work of stupid beginners. Someone had entered the castle and passed right under everyone's nose. It was incredible, this was unheard of. We are still in grave danger.
—And that is stronger than any hug, more important than any word. On these occasions, you never know what to say... Any word seems meaningless in the face of such great pain. But remember that a single word of comfort will be enough to heal a wounded heart.
Dumbledore said with his right hand on his chest. I hurriedly closed Saint Meh's book, unsettled by what I had just discovered. I don't know how that snake kept calm. He was so beautiful from behind... I blushed. What an idiot I was. I was burning in the middle of a mass for a deceased, and on top of that she was one to whom I owed a little respect on my part, because she defended me. Calm down Eli, soon everything will be over and he will leave me. I thought sadly as I looked at the nape of his black hair, so black it seemed blue.
"Sooner or later, you will have to face your darkest fears. And the only thing you have to fear is defeat."