A New Day has Come
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except what you don't find familiar.(y do we hafta do these anyway??)
A/N: Here we are, finally. Thanks to those who reviewed, but I'm expecting more this time. Enjoy!
Chapter 4
Mo looked up hopefully. The door opened with a loud bang, and Severus Snape stood there, glaring into the room. Mo smiled to himself. Snape apparently wasn't going to be easy, which meant he'd have to use a Slytherin-Dark Lord- like attitude to get what he wanted.
"Why, hello, Professor," he said smoothly. "I see you got my message."
"A professor who happened to be passing by here gave me this," Snape held out his hand, in which there was the note Mo had written. "You mind telling me what you want, Riddle? I'm a very busy man." He shut the door and locked it. (Dumbledore had enchanted the room so that Snape could do magic in there as well, since he was going to see Mo.)
Mo smiled mysteriously and leaned casually against the wall. " I understand you work in potions."
"How perceptive of you," Snape's voice was dripping with sarcasm. " If you're expecting any help in that field, you can forget it. I already helped a Riddle once, and I'm not doing it again."
"My, my, Severus, aren't we judgmental," Mo smirked. "I would've thought you of all people would know not to make assumptions about people because of things you've heard. I imagine you had to live with a lot of that, correct?"
Snape narrowed his eyes. " I don't need to hear things. I find it hard to believe you could be anything other than a bastard seeing what your father is."
"Which is why you worked for him for what, eight years?" Mo sneered.
" It is a mistake I've lived to regret, and I more than made up for it. Not that that's any of your business." Snape's black eyes glittered.
"Of course not," Mo said coldly. "I would love to sit and discuss Death Eaters who turned spy with you, Snape, but I'm afraid we need to get down to business."
Snape snorted. "I told you, don't expect any help from me in anything."
"I would recommend you at least listen. You never know, it might do you good. Why don't you have a seat." Mo sat himself on the edge of the bed and crossed his legs.
"If it makes you feel better," the older man said mockingly. He settled in the chair by the table and folded his arms.
"How kind of you," remarked Mo. "Now then," he said before Snape could respond. " Have you ever considered creating your own potion, oh great Potions Master?"
"Of course. I have done so on numerous occasions. It is not an easy deed though, Riddle. I wouldn't expect you to even try it."
Mo ignored him. "How about potions that block off Dark curses, or any kind of hex for that matter,"
Snape glanced curiously at him. "Potions are not a piece of cake, especially ones like those, which are few, unfortunately. I see now how ignorant you are, Riddle."
"You seem to have forgotten who I am, dear Severus." Mo wondered if he was overdoing it with the act, but he wanted to get Snape intimidated enough to help him.
For a second, Snape seemed to inwardly shudder, as though Mo had just reminded him of a bad time with his father. Then he composed himself. " How could anyone, being what you come from," Snape glared at him with vehemence.
"Whatever," Mo rolled his eyes, being his normal self for a moment. "Back to the subject. How about potions that would block *very* dangerous curses, perhaps even the Unforgivables, as you call them?"
Snape snorted. "Funny, Riddle. Perhaps I, the trained expert, might- *might* be able to create one of those with time. Is that what you're asking for?"
Mo smirked. "What would you say if I told you that I myself have created a potion which will flawlessly block certain dark curses, as well as the Cruciatus curse, and on my way to discovering the one for," he paused for effect, "Avada Kedavra." Snape stared at him for a second. "I'd say that's bullshit. Think about it Riddle. Even if you *could* do that, why would you do it anyway? You don't want to help people, you want to kill them. Obviously. And even if you *did* have a reason for creating such potions, you would never dare, because you'd know Daddy Dearest would kill you the second he knew." Snape looked pleased with himself at this analysis.
"You're right about one thing," Mo's green eyes pierced the teacher's face. "Father would not be pleased, to say the least, if he found out. Which is why I've made sure he doesn't know. As for my reasons, they're for me to know and for you to find out. The only thing that matters now is what I am to ask of you in a moment, after I show you proof, seeing as you don't believe me."
"Fine. Show me proof. This should be interesting," Snape sneered.
Mo's lips curved up in a slight smile as he rummaged through his bag and pulled out a black silk dress robe with silver trimmings. He reached into a pocket and triumphantly pulled out a tall glass bottle containing a sapphire blue liquid. It glimmered and even Snape looked fascinated by the color. "This, Severus," he said proudly, "is the only potion in existence that can block the Cruciatus curse, and some other hexes as well."
"And how do I know it can actually do so?" Snape eyed him skeptically.
"Simple." Mo opened the bottle, dipped his finger in, then took it out and licked it. "Only a drop is enough to last hours. It's very concentrated. You don't feel a thing when u take it." He grinned. "It kinda tastes like butterbeer, my own special touch of course."
Snape raised an eyebrow at him. "Cut to the chase, Riddle. I don't have all day."
"Go ahead, put Crucio on me." Mo stood up in front of Snape and folded his arms expectantly.
"Are you out of your mind boy? Is that what all of this is about- you want to have me thrown in Azkaban?" Snape glowered at him.
" No, of course not," said Mo, surprised. "I told you, I want to show you that this works. I thought you had guts, Snape. It's not like you haven't done this before. And I won't tell, if that's what you're afraid of."
"As much as I would love to curse you with all my power, Riddle, I'm afraid you are not worth the trouble I'd get into for doing it."
Me chuckled dryly. " Get into trouble for cursing me? Hardly, Severus. They'd give you the Order of Merlin for that. And like I said, I won't tell anyway."
"I don't care. I am a man of morals. I'm not doing it, and that's final."
Mo sighed. He could always ask him to try another curse, but the number of curses the potion blocked was limited and they were all Dark ones anyway. He flopped back down on the bed, his hand rubbing his forehead in deep thought. He wouldn't be defeated in this. He wouldn't. When he glanced up, it was to see Snape glancing curiously at him. The man was frowning. "You're really serious about this aren't you Riddle,"
"Figured that out all by yourself?" responded Mo dryly.
Snape pursed his lips. "Alright boy, but if you breathe one word about this, I'll have your memory messed up so bad so quickly you won't even have time to say-" And suddenly his wand was thrust out. " *CRUCIO*" The beam of red light escaped Snape's wand before Mo could even react, and it hit him squarely in the heart. Mo smiled to himself; the man had good aim.
He looked up and grinned innocently at Snape, then casually got up and started walking around the room, humming to himself. Snape removed his wand, his mouth hanging open. He closed it quickly.
"Done already?" asked Mo cheerfully.
"Do you know what this means Riddle?" the older man hissed.
"What?"
"Oh, never mind." Snape started pacing the room and running his hands through his hair, the shocked expression never leaving his face.
"I can make it for you, you know," Mo said amusedly after two whole minutes of watching Snape in this state.
The man whirled around to face him. "Why, Riddle? Why in hell would you want a potion like this?"
Mo hesitated. "I'd have thought that would be obvious," he said finally.
Snape scowled. "Enlighten me."
" I've always been fascinated by the fact that though the Unforgivables pose a threat to many, no one has yet discovered potions that might block them. I've always been fascinated by potions, period." He didn't clarify that somehow this was a part of him, that something inside him urged him to it.
Snape didn't look satisfied. "And?"
"And- the potion certainly helps when.well, when my father is torturing me magically." He said it softly, and inwardly he cursed himself for having said it at all. He didn't want to show any kind of weakness.
"I see," Snape said quietly.
After a long silence had passed, Mo spoke. "Would you be interested in knowing how to do this potion?"
"Well ,who wouldn't? But I'm not even going to ask what you want in return."
Mo couldn't help smiling. "Wouldn't it be worth it?"
"It depends what you're about to ask," said Snape warily.
He knew it was hopeless, but he might as well give it a try. "I'd like to get the hell out of here," he said.
"I'm afraid not, Riddle. The Headmaster wishes you to stay, and you will until he does something about it. Anything else?"
He wasn't surprised. And somehow, not even disappointed. For some reason, he found he didn't want to go back to his father. Not that staying cooped up in this small room was better. But something told him to stay at Hogwarts, just like something kept telling him to go to the girl in his dream. He vaguely wondered if she had anything to do with this, then put it out of his mind, telling himself she didn't even exist. For now, he might be able to make his imprisonment at the school more bearable. He turned his attention back to Snape. "I show you how to make the potion in the potions classroom, and you give me permission to go there daily and work on the Avada Kedavra block."
Snape studied him for a long moment. "It's up for consideration," he said finally. "I'll talk to Professor Dumbledore about it and get back to you."
Mo nodded gladly, feeling truly happy for the first time since he'd been imprisoned at Hogwarts. He didn't even care that now more people would know about his work. "That's all I'm asking."
"I'm not making any promises," warned the older man. "Oh, that's fine," replied Mo airily. "Just keep in mind the pain you would help destroy, maybe even the lives you could save."
Snape shook his head, and for a split second Mo could have sworn he'd seen him smile at him. But it was gone as soon as it had come, and Snape walked towards the door. "Good day, Riddle," he said curtly before leaving and locking the door behind him.
*~*~* Dumbledore came to talk to Mo himself later that evening. Mo was somewhat surprised and a little apprehensive. He had already seen him that morning; did this mean something had come up, or did he want to talk about his- offer to Snape? Though he didn't show it, he was slightly intimidated by the old man. Mo felt that he could see right through him and read his very soul, and he didn't like that. Mo's own father was threatened by him, and Voldemort was the most feared wizard alive.
Now he watched as the Headmaster entered and locked the door behind him. *So this is what my life has become. A bunch of school Professors coming in and out to visit me in a small room. Charming.* Mo couldn't help but smile bitterly to himself.
"Not feeling hungry?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at the barely touched dinner on the table. "No.not really," replied Mo, glancing at the two sandwiches that contained God-Knows-What and the store bought pumpkin juice. Again.
"I received word from your father." The tall man seated himself in the wooden chair.
"Oh really, and?" Mo's face looked composed, but he was tightly gripping the edge of the bed, his knuckles white.
"He wasn't pleased."
Mo chuckled lightly. "That's an understatement."
Dumbledore nodded. "He heard about our attack, and the Death Eaters at the Ministry. He learned the names of the ones being sent off to Azkaban and realized we'd taken you since your name wasn't among them."
Mo nodded, trying to take this in. He hesitated slightly before asking, "Has he threatened you?"
Dumbledore pierced him with that penetrating blue gaze for a moment before answering. Mo looked him squarely in the eye, but it wasn't easy.
"He has," said Dumbledore. "But nevertheless Mr. Riddle, you are staying here. For the time being anyway."
"Until what?" He dared to ask. Dumbledore seemed to think that Voldemort wouldn't attack Hogwarts, regardless of any threat he'd made. Secretly Mo agreed.
"That remains to be seen," replied the old man firmly. Mo shrugged.
"Now, Morpheus," Mo looked up, surprised he had used his first name. "Yeah."
"Severus told me about your- proposal." He smiled slightly. "I must say I am impressed, Mr. Riddle."
Mo couldn't help feeling slightly pleased. "Thank you."
"We have both agreed we will not let you leave, potion or no. However-" The Headmaster paused, his eyes twinkling a little bit.
"Yes?" he said hopefully.
"Professor Snape will come and take you to work on potions with him daily. The time at which he comes and how long you shall stay may vary. You'll teach him your potion, and he'll help you with the other one. What do you say?"
Mo grinned. "That'd be great."
"All right, it's settled then. But I warn you, Mr. Riddle..any funny moves and it'll be back here for you- understood?"
Mo took one look at the expression in his eyes and realized why you didn't want to be on this man's bad side. But Mo put on a strong front, as he always did. His own expression hardening, he said firmly, "I made a bargain, and I'll keep my end of it, I assure you. I'm a man of my word, Professor Dumbledore, contrary to what others might believe."
"Let's hope so," The man looked impressed by Mo's words and attitude. "Let's hope so."
*~*~* She frowned at the letter in her hand, the tears threatening to fall. She blinked hard to stop them, telling herself she didn't care. But a second later they were streaming down, just like rainfall. "The bastard!" she screamed, crumpling it up and throwing it against the wall. She didn't care if anyone heard her. So what anyway? There was only her grandfather and a bunch of people who probably didn't give a damn.
And to think she had actually loved him. "Pathetic," she sniffed, rubbing her bloodshot eyes. She was never trusting anyone again. To hell with all men; they were just trouble from the start. She climbed up on her bed, tucking her legs underneath her and pushing open the drawer on her bedside table. Her eyes fell on the stack of parchments in the corner of the drawer. She grabbed them and then she was reading the letters, even though every ounce of her screamed no, it's over. Suddenly she was overcome with vehemence, pure anger for this slut. Tucking several strands of long, wavy black hair behind her ear, she reached for her wand and with a silent incantation, the letters were gone. Burned. All that was left were the ashes, and for that she was glad.
She vowed to herself she would never love again, never allow anyone to hurt her like that again. Ever.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except what you don't find familiar.(y do we hafta do these anyway??)
A/N: Here we are, finally. Thanks to those who reviewed, but I'm expecting more this time. Enjoy!
Chapter 4
Mo looked up hopefully. The door opened with a loud bang, and Severus Snape stood there, glaring into the room. Mo smiled to himself. Snape apparently wasn't going to be easy, which meant he'd have to use a Slytherin-Dark Lord- like attitude to get what he wanted.
"Why, hello, Professor," he said smoothly. "I see you got my message."
"A professor who happened to be passing by here gave me this," Snape held out his hand, in which there was the note Mo had written. "You mind telling me what you want, Riddle? I'm a very busy man." He shut the door and locked it. (Dumbledore had enchanted the room so that Snape could do magic in there as well, since he was going to see Mo.)
Mo smiled mysteriously and leaned casually against the wall. " I understand you work in potions."
"How perceptive of you," Snape's voice was dripping with sarcasm. " If you're expecting any help in that field, you can forget it. I already helped a Riddle once, and I'm not doing it again."
"My, my, Severus, aren't we judgmental," Mo smirked. "I would've thought you of all people would know not to make assumptions about people because of things you've heard. I imagine you had to live with a lot of that, correct?"
Snape narrowed his eyes. " I don't need to hear things. I find it hard to believe you could be anything other than a bastard seeing what your father is."
"Which is why you worked for him for what, eight years?" Mo sneered.
" It is a mistake I've lived to regret, and I more than made up for it. Not that that's any of your business." Snape's black eyes glittered.
"Of course not," Mo said coldly. "I would love to sit and discuss Death Eaters who turned spy with you, Snape, but I'm afraid we need to get down to business."
Snape snorted. "I told you, don't expect any help from me in anything."
"I would recommend you at least listen. You never know, it might do you good. Why don't you have a seat." Mo sat himself on the edge of the bed and crossed his legs.
"If it makes you feel better," the older man said mockingly. He settled in the chair by the table and folded his arms.
"How kind of you," remarked Mo. "Now then," he said before Snape could respond. " Have you ever considered creating your own potion, oh great Potions Master?"
"Of course. I have done so on numerous occasions. It is not an easy deed though, Riddle. I wouldn't expect you to even try it."
Mo ignored him. "How about potions that block off Dark curses, or any kind of hex for that matter,"
Snape glanced curiously at him. "Potions are not a piece of cake, especially ones like those, which are few, unfortunately. I see now how ignorant you are, Riddle."
"You seem to have forgotten who I am, dear Severus." Mo wondered if he was overdoing it with the act, but he wanted to get Snape intimidated enough to help him.
For a second, Snape seemed to inwardly shudder, as though Mo had just reminded him of a bad time with his father. Then he composed himself. " How could anyone, being what you come from," Snape glared at him with vehemence.
"Whatever," Mo rolled his eyes, being his normal self for a moment. "Back to the subject. How about potions that would block *very* dangerous curses, perhaps even the Unforgivables, as you call them?"
Snape snorted. "Funny, Riddle. Perhaps I, the trained expert, might- *might* be able to create one of those with time. Is that what you're asking for?"
Mo smirked. "What would you say if I told you that I myself have created a potion which will flawlessly block certain dark curses, as well as the Cruciatus curse, and on my way to discovering the one for," he paused for effect, "Avada Kedavra." Snape stared at him for a second. "I'd say that's bullshit. Think about it Riddle. Even if you *could* do that, why would you do it anyway? You don't want to help people, you want to kill them. Obviously. And even if you *did* have a reason for creating such potions, you would never dare, because you'd know Daddy Dearest would kill you the second he knew." Snape looked pleased with himself at this analysis.
"You're right about one thing," Mo's green eyes pierced the teacher's face. "Father would not be pleased, to say the least, if he found out. Which is why I've made sure he doesn't know. As for my reasons, they're for me to know and for you to find out. The only thing that matters now is what I am to ask of you in a moment, after I show you proof, seeing as you don't believe me."
"Fine. Show me proof. This should be interesting," Snape sneered.
Mo's lips curved up in a slight smile as he rummaged through his bag and pulled out a black silk dress robe with silver trimmings. He reached into a pocket and triumphantly pulled out a tall glass bottle containing a sapphire blue liquid. It glimmered and even Snape looked fascinated by the color. "This, Severus," he said proudly, "is the only potion in existence that can block the Cruciatus curse, and some other hexes as well."
"And how do I know it can actually do so?" Snape eyed him skeptically.
"Simple." Mo opened the bottle, dipped his finger in, then took it out and licked it. "Only a drop is enough to last hours. It's very concentrated. You don't feel a thing when u take it." He grinned. "It kinda tastes like butterbeer, my own special touch of course."
Snape raised an eyebrow at him. "Cut to the chase, Riddle. I don't have all day."
"Go ahead, put Crucio on me." Mo stood up in front of Snape and folded his arms expectantly.
"Are you out of your mind boy? Is that what all of this is about- you want to have me thrown in Azkaban?" Snape glowered at him.
" No, of course not," said Mo, surprised. "I told you, I want to show you that this works. I thought you had guts, Snape. It's not like you haven't done this before. And I won't tell, if that's what you're afraid of."
"As much as I would love to curse you with all my power, Riddle, I'm afraid you are not worth the trouble I'd get into for doing it."
Me chuckled dryly. " Get into trouble for cursing me? Hardly, Severus. They'd give you the Order of Merlin for that. And like I said, I won't tell anyway."
"I don't care. I am a man of morals. I'm not doing it, and that's final."
Mo sighed. He could always ask him to try another curse, but the number of curses the potion blocked was limited and they were all Dark ones anyway. He flopped back down on the bed, his hand rubbing his forehead in deep thought. He wouldn't be defeated in this. He wouldn't. When he glanced up, it was to see Snape glancing curiously at him. The man was frowning. "You're really serious about this aren't you Riddle,"
"Figured that out all by yourself?" responded Mo dryly.
Snape pursed his lips. "Alright boy, but if you breathe one word about this, I'll have your memory messed up so bad so quickly you won't even have time to say-" And suddenly his wand was thrust out. " *CRUCIO*" The beam of red light escaped Snape's wand before Mo could even react, and it hit him squarely in the heart. Mo smiled to himself; the man had good aim.
He looked up and grinned innocently at Snape, then casually got up and started walking around the room, humming to himself. Snape removed his wand, his mouth hanging open. He closed it quickly.
"Done already?" asked Mo cheerfully.
"Do you know what this means Riddle?" the older man hissed.
"What?"
"Oh, never mind." Snape started pacing the room and running his hands through his hair, the shocked expression never leaving his face.
"I can make it for you, you know," Mo said amusedly after two whole minutes of watching Snape in this state.
The man whirled around to face him. "Why, Riddle? Why in hell would you want a potion like this?"
Mo hesitated. "I'd have thought that would be obvious," he said finally.
Snape scowled. "Enlighten me."
" I've always been fascinated by the fact that though the Unforgivables pose a threat to many, no one has yet discovered potions that might block them. I've always been fascinated by potions, period." He didn't clarify that somehow this was a part of him, that something inside him urged him to it.
Snape didn't look satisfied. "And?"
"And- the potion certainly helps when.well, when my father is torturing me magically." He said it softly, and inwardly he cursed himself for having said it at all. He didn't want to show any kind of weakness.
"I see," Snape said quietly.
After a long silence had passed, Mo spoke. "Would you be interested in knowing how to do this potion?"
"Well ,who wouldn't? But I'm not even going to ask what you want in return."
Mo couldn't help smiling. "Wouldn't it be worth it?"
"It depends what you're about to ask," said Snape warily.
He knew it was hopeless, but he might as well give it a try. "I'd like to get the hell out of here," he said.
"I'm afraid not, Riddle. The Headmaster wishes you to stay, and you will until he does something about it. Anything else?"
He wasn't surprised. And somehow, not even disappointed. For some reason, he found he didn't want to go back to his father. Not that staying cooped up in this small room was better. But something told him to stay at Hogwarts, just like something kept telling him to go to the girl in his dream. He vaguely wondered if she had anything to do with this, then put it out of his mind, telling himself she didn't even exist. For now, he might be able to make his imprisonment at the school more bearable. He turned his attention back to Snape. "I show you how to make the potion in the potions classroom, and you give me permission to go there daily and work on the Avada Kedavra block."
Snape studied him for a long moment. "It's up for consideration," he said finally. "I'll talk to Professor Dumbledore about it and get back to you."
Mo nodded gladly, feeling truly happy for the first time since he'd been imprisoned at Hogwarts. He didn't even care that now more people would know about his work. "That's all I'm asking."
"I'm not making any promises," warned the older man. "Oh, that's fine," replied Mo airily. "Just keep in mind the pain you would help destroy, maybe even the lives you could save."
Snape shook his head, and for a split second Mo could have sworn he'd seen him smile at him. But it was gone as soon as it had come, and Snape walked towards the door. "Good day, Riddle," he said curtly before leaving and locking the door behind him.
*~*~* Dumbledore came to talk to Mo himself later that evening. Mo was somewhat surprised and a little apprehensive. He had already seen him that morning; did this mean something had come up, or did he want to talk about his- offer to Snape? Though he didn't show it, he was slightly intimidated by the old man. Mo felt that he could see right through him and read his very soul, and he didn't like that. Mo's own father was threatened by him, and Voldemort was the most feared wizard alive.
Now he watched as the Headmaster entered and locked the door behind him. *So this is what my life has become. A bunch of school Professors coming in and out to visit me in a small room. Charming.* Mo couldn't help but smile bitterly to himself.
"Not feeling hungry?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at the barely touched dinner on the table. "No.not really," replied Mo, glancing at the two sandwiches that contained God-Knows-What and the store bought pumpkin juice. Again.
"I received word from your father." The tall man seated himself in the wooden chair.
"Oh really, and?" Mo's face looked composed, but he was tightly gripping the edge of the bed, his knuckles white.
"He wasn't pleased."
Mo chuckled lightly. "That's an understatement."
Dumbledore nodded. "He heard about our attack, and the Death Eaters at the Ministry. He learned the names of the ones being sent off to Azkaban and realized we'd taken you since your name wasn't among them."
Mo nodded, trying to take this in. He hesitated slightly before asking, "Has he threatened you?"
Dumbledore pierced him with that penetrating blue gaze for a moment before answering. Mo looked him squarely in the eye, but it wasn't easy.
"He has," said Dumbledore. "But nevertheless Mr. Riddle, you are staying here. For the time being anyway."
"Until what?" He dared to ask. Dumbledore seemed to think that Voldemort wouldn't attack Hogwarts, regardless of any threat he'd made. Secretly Mo agreed.
"That remains to be seen," replied the old man firmly. Mo shrugged.
"Now, Morpheus," Mo looked up, surprised he had used his first name. "Yeah."
"Severus told me about your- proposal." He smiled slightly. "I must say I am impressed, Mr. Riddle."
Mo couldn't help feeling slightly pleased. "Thank you."
"We have both agreed we will not let you leave, potion or no. However-" The Headmaster paused, his eyes twinkling a little bit.
"Yes?" he said hopefully.
"Professor Snape will come and take you to work on potions with him daily. The time at which he comes and how long you shall stay may vary. You'll teach him your potion, and he'll help you with the other one. What do you say?"
Mo grinned. "That'd be great."
"All right, it's settled then. But I warn you, Mr. Riddle..any funny moves and it'll be back here for you- understood?"
Mo took one look at the expression in his eyes and realized why you didn't want to be on this man's bad side. But Mo put on a strong front, as he always did. His own expression hardening, he said firmly, "I made a bargain, and I'll keep my end of it, I assure you. I'm a man of my word, Professor Dumbledore, contrary to what others might believe."
"Let's hope so," The man looked impressed by Mo's words and attitude. "Let's hope so."
*~*~* She frowned at the letter in her hand, the tears threatening to fall. She blinked hard to stop them, telling herself she didn't care. But a second later they were streaming down, just like rainfall. "The bastard!" she screamed, crumpling it up and throwing it against the wall. She didn't care if anyone heard her. So what anyway? There was only her grandfather and a bunch of people who probably didn't give a damn.
And to think she had actually loved him. "Pathetic," she sniffed, rubbing her bloodshot eyes. She was never trusting anyone again. To hell with all men; they were just trouble from the start. She climbed up on her bed, tucking her legs underneath her and pushing open the drawer on her bedside table. Her eyes fell on the stack of parchments in the corner of the drawer. She grabbed them and then she was reading the letters, even though every ounce of her screamed no, it's over. Suddenly she was overcome with vehemence, pure anger for this slut. Tucking several strands of long, wavy black hair behind her ear, she reached for her wand and with a silent incantation, the letters were gone. Burned. All that was left were the ashes, and for that she was glad.
She vowed to herself she would never love again, never allow anyone to hurt her like that again. Ever.