𝟎𝟑𝟐; ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ

8K 345 14
                                    














SATURDAY AFTERNOON SEEMED, to melt away, and in what seemed like no time, it was five minutes to eight, and Coventina was dragging her feet
along the second-floor corridor to Lockhart's office.

She gritted his teeth and knocked.
The door flew open at once. Lockhart beamed down at him. "Ah, here's the scalawag!" he said.

"Come in, Coventina, come in -" Shining brightly on the walls by the light of many candles were countless framed photographs of Lockhart. He had even signed a few of them.

"Can't he leave my goddaughter alone?" Sirius growls lowly. "He should." James glares at the screen.

"Maybe we should help the Marauders in killing him off?" Rabastan asks Regulus. "Yes, we should." He answeres.

Another large pile lay on his desk. "You can address the envelopes!" Lockhart told her, as though this was a huge treat. "This first one's to Gladys Gudgeon, bless her - huge fan of mine -"

The minutes snailed by. Coventina let Lockhart's voice wash over her,
occasionally saying, "Mmm" and "Right" and "Yeah." Now and then
she caught a phrase like, "Fame's a fickle friend, Coventina," or "Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that."

The candles burned lower and lower, making the light dance over the
many moving faces of Lockhart watching him.

And then she heard something - something quite apart from the
spitting of the dying candles and Lockhart's prattle about his fans.
It was a voice, a voice to chill the bone marrow, a voice of breathtaking, ice-cold venom.

"Come... come to me... Let me rip you... Let me tear you.... Let me kill you."

"Okay... WHAT THE FUCK!?" Sirius yells in disbelief.

"That voice.." Bellatrix shivers nervously.

"Is fucking creepy!!" Evans gulps.

"I wanna throw up." Barty frowns.

Coventina gave a huge jump and a large lilac blot appeared on Veronica
Smethley's street. "What?" She said loudly.

"I know!" said Lockhart. "Six solid months at the top of the bestseller
list! Broke all records!" "No," said Coventina frantically.

"That voice!" "Sorry?" said Lockhart, looking puzzled. "What voice?"
"That - that voice that said - didn't you hear it?" Lockhart was looking at her in high astonishment.

"What are you talking about, Coventina? Perhaps you're getting a litde drowsy? Great Scott - look at the time! We've been here nearly four
hours! Id never have believed it - the time's flown, hasn't it?" She didn't answer.

She quickly left, It was so late that the Gryffindor common room was almost empty. She waste no time and entered the room and close the door.

"Aamon." She hissed, the cobra slowly slithered behind her, "ʏᴇsss ᴍɪsᴛʀᴇssss," Hiss the cobra. "Have you hear the same voice as me?" She asked. "ʏᴇssss." Aamon hissed.

"Well at least she know that she is not crazy." Barty rassure.

"Not the times." Regulus scolds.

"Okay."

"Let's go to bed," She quickly get on her bed with her familiar.

October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students.

𝔖𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔱𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣 | 𝐇𝐏 ʷᵗᵐWhere stories live. Discover now