𝑆𝐴𝑉𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐷𝑅𝐴𝐶𝑂 𝑀𝐴𝐿𝐹𝑂𝑌

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟖 - 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐛𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤

"Who?" My eyes shot up to his.

"Blackthorn," he said.

In the sound of the name, I stumbled on the leg of my bed and stabbed my toe on an edge. I kicked the pain out and tried not to look ridiculous in the process, something I was failing at. Blaise laughed.

"I saw her in the Common Room," he continued. "She asked when you usually come down for dinner and said something about a book..." he said so-called absentmindedly.

I was going through my second reading of The Great Gatsby. I was initially planning on returning it. At first, I thought that Ophelia's stubbornness would cease sooner or later and she would give me a new book soon. Now, it was the only thing I had left of her and I couldn't part with it.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" I tried to keep my voice in check but I sounded angry even in my biased ears.

Blaise smirked and tried to contain a laughter.

"I knew this would cheer you up. And now you have some extra motivation to come down for dinner."

He left at once and seemed pleased with himself.

I thought about it long and hard. Some instinct told me to stay put. Somehow, I couldn't see a scenario where Ophelia approached me during dinner about a borrowed book. Bold though she was, she had always avoided talking to me in public. It seemed out of place and out of character for her. If she wanted it back, I would expect her to ask for it in private. Then again, if she indeed planned to actually ask for her book back, how much did it suit me to be available for this request? I didn't want to give it back to her. I wanted to sleep with it under my pillow.

I put the vinyl on the record player and Maria Callas echoed in the room. I flicked my wand to temporarily make the walls soundproof. I didn't need anyone to know I was listening to opera.

O mio babbino caro...

I wish I had a voice that could sing along without ruining the magic. I let the water fill the tub and I pressed the repeat button on the record player. I made myself a drink, removed my clothes and sank myself in the water, purposefully leaving the door open so I could hear the aria loud and clear.

I was not in the mood to take off the bandages but I felt obligated to. They needed cleaning and so did my forearms. I sipped my drink and left it aside. I submerged my head underwater and stayed there as long as my lungs could bear. I found the way opera sounded underwater somehow eerie and deaf. It sounded wet but warm – like the way you hear music when you're in the bathroom during a party.

The voice was surreal. It wasn't the clearest one I'd heard but it had emotion and pain in it.

The track stopped, made half a minute's pause and then started again.

I cleaned myself up, dried and replaced my bandages. I put on my trousers and a fresh shirt but when I looked into the mirror, I looked somewhat savage and violent. It was the stubble on my chin. I quickly leaned over the sink and looked for some shaving foam. The blade was still dirty in the safety razor – still stained with blood. It needed replacing.

The track stopped just in time. The hinges of the door creaked. Someone had entered without knocking.

I was half-expecting to see Blaise but I cannot say that I was extremely surprised when I took a step back from the sink to see who it was. Through the half-open bathroom door and behind the heavy drapes of the canopy, across the room and next to the record player, stood Ophelia.

I scoffed. Predictable.

She looked around mystically and only made quiet, careful moves. She was looking for something – her Gatsby, I presumed at once.