The Slytherin Common Room - D.M. ✔️

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 53

I'm so happy I've written ahead of you guys. I haven't written this story in a week rip 

Vote grrr

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Y/N Y/L/N

It had been a week-

-or at least a week.

You'd lost track.

All the time, you couldn't stop thinking about what had happened.

You sat in bed every night and cried until you could barely open your eyes. It almost seemed as if whenever you thought about it, something you hadn't realized came to mind, and then it started crashing over you all over again.

Since you had felt so sorry for yourself, you closed yourself off from everyone. All you did was eat, sleep, cry, and do homework.

You had been coming back from a late-night studying in the library. The only thing that came out of this break-up was that your grades seemed to be raising significantly higher. You weren't sure if that was worth it, though.

Pansy was at her desk scribbling away. She always seemed to be writing letters these days. How ironic. You ignore her, throwing your books onto your bed and then making a bee-line to the bathroom.

You shut the door and wash your face. Rubbing the soap into your skin and then rinsing it all off with cold water. Next, you brush your teeth, the minty taste settles on your tongue, stinging your cheeks.

As you brush your teeth, you stare at your reflection. You were almost positive you saw little cracks in the mirror, but you couldn't be sure. The longer you looked at yourself, the more flaws you noticed.

My stupid eyelashes.

Why do my cheeks have to be so chubby?

Why can't my eyebrows just be more even?

Maybe I'm ugly.

Maybe that's why Draco broke up with me.

Pansy's gorgeous.

I'm not.

Why can't I be pretty like her?

Or Tracey?

Tracey's gorgeous, and she and Terence have been dating for almost a year now.

How come I don't get that.

How come pretty girls always get everything.

It was almost with every self-loathing thought, another crack split in the mirror. You didn't care about the stupid mirror, though. You could barely tell there were cracks in the mirror as your eyes were blurred by the clouding of tears.

They burn down your cheek, their saltiness mixing with your mint toothpaste. As soon as you taste your own tears, you spit out your toothpaste. You wipe your sleeves with your arm after rinsing your mouth, trying to rid the fused taste.

As you continue to stare at your reflection, your tears only fall harder and faster. It's not long until you've mumbled 'muffliato' and 'colloportus' so pansy won't hear anything, and there's no way for her to come in. Not that you'd thought she wanted to come in anyway.

It was almost a ripple effect whenever you cried. You'd think of one thing, and every time that'd lead to another. It didn't matter how you began. You always ended the same, in tears.