They're still not mine.

Amy worked all morning with Professor Snape. He was a good teacher, and she a good student. She had a good education at Durmstrang, so the sullen Professor had no need to be worked up. She had learned a lot of the material already, but thought it rude to point it out.

During the lunch hour, Professor Snape had to leave to supervise the Great Hall, leaving Amy alone to her solitary meal.

She sighed and gazed out the magical window in the upper corner of her room. It showed her the weather. According to it at that time, the weather had gotten considerably worse. Large wet raindrops were falling heavily, and it looked very cold.

Amy poked at her food, ate a little, and then left it alone. She got up and looked around the room for something to occupy her with until Professor Snape returned. Amy soon found a sketchbook and some charcoals. She settled into a large armchair, and began to draw. She sketched an outline of a tree. Beginning to shade it, it was as if she had been sucked into her work. Under the tree, she drew a girl. On the girls face was an expression of extreme torment, and she added a drop of blood on the girls wrist.

"Drawing, are we?"

Amy jumped and tried to quickly hide the sketch. She looked at his face. It was guarded, she couldn't figure out if he had seen the context at all.

Professor Snape frowned. "Are you ready to work again?" Of course Amy nodded. "Good. Now please get out your charms textbook. Wand away."

The afternoon was slow and boring. There weren't potions, so Amy was alone except for Professor Snape, who acted very distant, as she found out.

Her mood grew worse.

Once again she took her dinner alone. Checking the weather again, Amy found that there was freezing rain falling. She put her head into her hands. She hated the school. She hated being in solitude. Why did it matter if she was attacked or not? Amy got up and searched in her bag for a moment and found what she was looking for. Her razor.

The blade was sharp and new. She pressed it to her arm, and a steady stream of blood appeared. She made another cut a little lower this time. A tear fell, and combined with the blood on her arm. Still holding onto the razor, Amy went to the bathroom and washed off the arm.

Feeling better, she put her blade away and collapsed on the bed and passed out.

When she awoke it was past midnight. Professor Snape had covered her with a blanket, and put out the candles. It was dark and drafty. Amy pushed the covers off and got out of bed. She took her wand and cast a concealing charm over her body.

Then she left to explore the castle.

Her feet were quiet on the stone floor, as she seemed to float up to the first level. When she reached the Great Hall, she took time to admire it. It reminded her of her parent's manor. Of course, it wasn't as grand as this. Growing bored of the Hall, Amy chose a staircase and walked up to the next floor. Ducking into the hallway, she found it boring and went up another flight. When she reached it, she immediately saw a portrait that interested her. It was of a girl, sullen and in an emerald-green gown. The bottom had a plaque. It read, "Mangé Beüff." Amy gazed at it for a moment. "That must be the girl in the picture," she thought to herself, as she watched Mangé tap her foot and stare boredly off into space. Amy wandered down the hallway, examining the strange pieces of artwork.

After an hour or so passed, Amy began to feel sleepy so she headed back down to the dungeons. She hated it there even more now that she had seen the grandeur of the upstairs.

She walked quietly into her room, and sat on the couch. She thought how nice it would be to live with the other students in the beautiful upstairs of the castle. But of course, this was for her own good, and they were so graciously letting her stay here. And Professor Snape was taking time out for her when he could be getting his own work done.

Amy wept bitterly.

She didn't want to be alone. She wanted her parents back! She wanted her life back! She wanted to feel love again and I something other than this horrid depression! /I

Amy fell to her knees, sobs wracking her small frame. Then she curled up into a ball on the floor, still crying.

Amy slept on the floor the rest of the night.

br I really would like some ideas for more angst and how to extend the chapters! -Isabelle /br