Still, she did not have the time to deal with the temperamental heart of the Malfoy heir. There were bigger issues at hand, such as the voice returning to her head or the supposed sabotage of the two girls that grew close to Draco.
Adeline didn't know if it were true but it was certainly plausible. Something similar had happened in Second year and it wasn't as if she could easily recount her whereabouts over the last few weeks.
Nobody needs her psychotic twin brother roaming around her head and running the show again. There was also the possession of Pansy Parkinson that no one had yet bothered to figure out. Someone had fed her secrets and erased her memory, while the plan had seemed to backfire, someone was out to get Adeline. She hadn't any idea where to even start.
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The window became her resting place for the remainder of the day. Adeline refused to leave her rooms, refused to sleep. She needed time away from everyone.
The sun moved across the sky, birds fluttered about, students milled around the grounds far below and still, she didn't move. When the moon shone against the night sky, there was a knock at her door.
Adeline didn't move all day, so caught up in her own head. The sound startled her. Adeline became aware of the pain in her palm and looked down to see blood on her blade. She hadn't realised she'd been gripping it so tightly. It was dark in the room but still, Adeline could see the sticky red substance in her palm, grotesquely mixed with a dark black ichor.
Well, that is an issue.
She stood, her body groaning as she did. Adeline considered not answering the door but the knock sounded again, and then again, and she realised whoever was there wouldn't leave her alone.
Dean had his hands against the doorframe, face shooting up when she opened the door. The light of the hallway made her blink. He squinted at her. "So, you are alive?"
Adeline didn't answer nor did she open the door further. Whatever other witty comment Dean had lined up died on his lips. "Are you alright?"
Adeline shrugged, her palm throbbed and she felt blood dripping down her fingers. Dean wasn't wearing his robes, dressed only in black pants and a tight-fitting black shirt. He stood from the doorway and Adeline noticed the satchel bag at his feet.
She didn't ask what it was, wasn't sure she even cared.
Dean looked at her for a little longer before sighing in defeat. "Let me in." He uttered, raining his brows in expectation.
Adeline didn't move considered closing the door on him and heading back to her window. She didn't. Stepping aside, Dean passed.
"Merlin," Dean muttered before finding the lights. Adeline had to squint a little while her eyes adjusted to the light. She closed the door and watched Dean look around the room. At the mess on the floor when she had changed, the bed that hadn't been slept in and, finally, at the bloodied knife at the window seat. He looked at her sharply, surveying her for unhurt and spotting the blood dripping from her hand. "What the bloody hell have you done?"
