Mutually exhausted from the game earlier that day, Malfoy and I tiredly stumble down the stairs to the Slytherin common room. Our ominous emerald lounge is filled with students from each house.

A blinding spotlight suddenly projects from the ceiling. Malfoy stealthily moves to the side out of view with a cunning smirk directed at me. I heavily curse at him under my breath as the attention was now fully centered upon myself.

"Gather 'round, ladies and gentleman!"

I shield the blaring light with my hand, glancing to Ginny who's using her wand as a microphone. She stands beside Flint, Slytherin's team captain, who appears to be just as uncomfortable as I am in the moment; rolling his eyes and smacking his teeth with his tongue.

Ginny's wearing a skin tight burgundy dress, and her disheveled hair gives off a sexy fresh out of bed look. She throws an arm around my shoulders. "As Gryffindor's team captain, I'm humbled to present Slytherin's star athlete of the day: HARRY POTTER!"

Flint begrudgingly raises his drink at eye level and tilts it toward me. Ginny excitedly bounces on the balls of her feet while clapping her hands together.

My stomach churns.

'Slytherin's star athlete' was coined off false pretense. If I hadn't cast the Confundus charm to disable Wood, we would most likely be standing in the Gryffindor common room right now and Ginny would be praising Oliver.

My concerning performance during the match was uncharacteristic and frankly distressing. Moments before ending the game, there was no two ways about it; I was going to catch that bloody snitch no matter the consequence.

However, it simply wasn't like myself to cheat or cut corners to my benefit. In the Muggle world, my pride innately restricted the idea of ever winning a lacrosse game based off sheer fraudulence.

"Potter! Potter!" Everyone, even the Gryffindors, chant my name as I guiltily raise a hand briefly.

A hurdling wave of anxiety crashes over me. My chest cramps up, and I'm prompted to consciously keep count of my breaths in slow increments. The glaring light lowers as I grab the Gryffindor team captain's wrist and pull us to the side. "Ginny, wait."

She crosses her arms with her head cocked to the side. "Uhh, yeah?"

"Isn't this a little over the top?" I nervously chuckle, pointing to the paper cut-outs of my face levitating in circular motions around the room.

"Oh please," she cuts me off with the flick of her wrist. "Why do you always get so nervous at parties? You won the bloody game. Enjoy it."

Prioritizing focus on a steady oxygen flow, I leave her side unannounced. As I guide myself to the side of the room, Ginny mingles with her team while her eyes follow me. Occupying a lone chair against the wall, I purposefully distance myself from the others.

I vacantly watch everyone cheerfully dance and mingle as I reflect back to the end of the game.


Five Hours Earlier

"CONFUNDO!"

I reluctantly slip the wand back into the crevice of my glove before blasting past my opponent. An overpowering wave of turmoil paralyzes my brain while my body remains mobile.

The crackle of Wood's broom snapping in half echoes from beneath the Gryffindor bleachers. I yearn to turn my head so as to make sure he isn't seriously injured, yet I selfishly neglect the desperate yelps from behind.

I'm guided from beneath the sector and bolt upwards. The opposing house silences in realization that I had solely survived the jungle gym beneath the arena.

I uncontrollably snicker, leaving my disabled opponent behind. Soon thereafter, my right eye abnormally transforms and I black out.

Seconds later I come to, and my crippled coordination remains. I'm still unable to move my broom in the desired direction, and it's in this fateful moment that I accept I'm no longer in control of my actions in the game.

The heavy distraction causes my broom to falter, but I quickly regain balance. An all-consuming emphasis on the necessity to win rejuvenates as I pursue the one-sided race. The snitch darts toward the lower-middle field leaving minimal barriers. My knuckles whiten as I sturdily blast off.

And Potter is hot on the snitches tail as Wood has yet to emerge from the Gryffindor tower! Must have been a giant plank of wood to stop Wood in his tracks.. pun intended.

The snitch dashes across the pitch within arm's reach. With one last force of acceleration, I extend my left hand as far ahead as possible. Most of my upper body is detached from the broom, and I'm heavily relying on my other arm for accurate balance. My right-hand struggles to hold most of my body weight causing the broom to waver.

Fully aware that I'm involuntarily tilting at a dangerous angle, my right arm finally gives out. I'm launched from the broom as my left hand gratifyingly captures the metallic ball. I forcefully crash against the ground, tumbling and skidding across the dirt.

The vibrating wings flutter between my fingers as fast as my heart. A high-pitched chime ricochets across the field signaling the end of the game.

HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE GOLDEN SNITCH! SLYTHERIN WINS!

There's an uproar in the crowd as I listlessly lay flat against the grass. I hold the snitch against my heaving chest with eyes squeezed shut, and a vindictive grin plastered across my face. The Slytherin tower erupts in boisterous cheer while my team periodically descends.

I squint with one eye opened and use both languid arms to heave myself upright. Although the game was over, the physically controlling phenomenon hadn't subsided. The inward battle between sheer panic and an immense adrenaline high is psychologically crippling.

I'm thrown on my back as the rest of the team dog piles on top of me. The next thing I know, I'm hoisted on their shoulders in celebration.

"Congrats, Potter!" Ginny shouts at me, singled out in the sea of people.

I smile, one eye closed, and give her a wave.

My team carries me off the pitch while all houses rush the field. We comb through the students like salmon upstream as we head toward the Slytherin locker room.

Once on my feet, I keep my right eye closed. I continue my destination amongst the chaos as I find two familiar Gryffindors walking against oncoming traffic.

"Bloody brilliant!" Ron exclaims in bewilderment. His smile drops once he looks behind me. "It's going to grow a bit challenging rooting for both teams now, isn't it?" Without saying another word he walks past us in the direction of his sulking brothers; Fred resentfully shoving George on the shoulder.

Hermione gives me a perplexed look. "Is something wrong with your-"

"No. Just a piece of grass," I cut her off, tightly closing and casually rubbing my eye.

Fortunately and surprisingly, she doesn't entertain the topic any further. "You did it! You were fantastic!" She smiles pulling me in for a hug. As I hold her close she whispers, "But we really must talk. It's about.." After looking over both shoulders she leans toward my ear. "Snape."

"Yep.." I sigh, confidently tossing the Nimbus 2020 between both hands. ".. Yet another failed attempt at killing me."

Hermione flicks a few locks of hair behind her shoulder. "Snape didn't fail, Harry. Rather, he was merely distracted." Slickly removing the wand from her robes, she flips it between each finger with a mischievous smirk.

I slowly nod with widened eyes. "Should I be concerned that you consider lighting the professors' tower on fire a 'mere distraction'?"

Hermione narrows her eyes at me before abruptly looking to her right. Our conversation is cut short as I lock eyes with Malfoy across the herd of people. His eyes slowly alternate between myself and his girlfriend. He tries to appear unphased, but I recognize the suppressed, irritated expression all too well.

Hermione glances at me before running to him. She excitedly bounces up and down pulling on the sides of his robes. He holds her in a tight embrace while she runs a hand through his sweaty bangs. It's the first time I realize Malfoy actually has teeth as he grins down at her.


Present Time

I have an out of body experience watching the party unfold before my eyes in fast motion.

I zone in on a guy approaching Ginny from behind and rubbing against her to the beat of the music. She instantly spins on her heels with furrowed brows and pursed lips. He whispers something in her ear while placing an undesired hand upon her hip. She irritably brushes it away, thoroughly disinterested by his advances.

Her hazel brown eyes brighten as they set on me across the room seated in the same, lonesome area. "What're you doing over here all alone?!" she hollers over the music shuffling her heels toward me. "There's no need to sulk."

I mutely glide both sweaty palms across my face. Seconds later, I wordlessly rush past her for the patio door feeling another wave of claustrophobia. The door swings open as goose bumps inundate the surface of my exposed skin. Subarctic gusts of wind blast my face and I take the opportunity to digest as much fresh air as possible.

My merciless right eye begins to sting.

It seemed as though it was defiant against the alleviation of my distressing symptoms. I let out a growl, using the lower portion of my palm to aggressively rub my demonic eye. I'm tempted to use my thumb and forefinger to gouge the troublesome eyeball right out of my bloody skull.

My menacing, cruel, vengeful snake-like eye.

The act of cheating was solely encouraged by the manipulative deformity. My body simply refused to comply with my brain once I was given the opportunity to strike my opponent. I helplessly watched on from the third person; mentally alert of my actions, with absolutely zero control over my motor skills.

But above all, blacking out as a result of uncontrollably casting the disabling spell against Wood is scaring me the most.

Temporarily chasing the daunting memory, I lean my elbows against the patio banister and interlock my fingers behind my head. Loud muffled cheers are heard from the crowded party inside.

I'm banged up, delirious, and brain dead. The relentless, hours on end, panic attack robs any ounce of remaining energy I had left. My wobbly knees lead my back against the wall behind me. The grainy concrete digs into my flesh as I slide to the floor.

Holding my knees against my forehead, I wrap my arms around both legs while unwelcome thoughts continue to plague my mind.

I would be an idiot if I didn't acknowledge the fact that my dominant eye was inheriting a mind of its own, growing stronger by the day.

An indefinite hold had been put on my second meeting with Dumbledore. Exploring the reptilian commodity used to be of little interest to me despite his pleas. I foolishly believed that I possessed the power to control the unpredictable deformity. So, I conceitedly refused guidance.

And now, I'm left questioning whether it was actually myself refusing the help.


I hang over the banister gazing at a batch of barren trees swaying in the wind. I'm startled as the patio door suddenly flies open. A pair of hands cover my eyes from behind, and the very sensation of someone touching my deformity makes my skin crawl. Ginny giggles as I shake from her grasp.

"Don't touch me," I reflectively growl causing her to flinch.

She shoots me a death glare as her large glossy eyes scan my face.

"I'm-I'm sorry Ginny. I didn't mean that." Using heavy damage control, I outwardly offer both hands for her to grab. Apprehensively putting one foot in front of the other, she intertwines her fingers with mine and lightly smiles. Like the true athlete she is, she brushes the tense situation off and accepts my apology.

"Tell me what's going on," she suddenly demands with intense eye contact. The intimidating tone that I'm used to hearing only on the field is uncalled for, yet effective.

My guard slowly begins to fall. "I don't think now's the time to discuss it," I reply raising both eyebrows. "You're drunk."

"Just a little bit." She inches her thumb and index together before shooting me a glare. "Don't change the subject, Potter." I silently stare her down, stubbornly biting my tongue. She places an unexpected gentle hand upon my cheek, and a warm comforting sensation extends across my chest. "You can trust me." A light smile crosses her wine stained lips as I gradually nod my head in some sort of trance. "Do you want to go find somewhere and talk?"

"Yeah.. I'd like that."

It's the first time a girl's invited me to 'go somewhere and talk' with the hopes that we would, in fact, speak.