Miss Slytherin

Book 6: Chapter 20

Was Sebastian telling her the truth?

Theo was hesitant, not even daring to look at his best friend in the eye and tell her what happened during their time apart. Finley was conflicted about whether she should ask them or not as it seemed like it would ruin everything. "I'm out of here," Blaise scoffed, having enough of the suffocating silence.

"Blaise," Finley tried to call out, seeing her best friend grab something from his nightstand and walk out the dorm, leaving her alone with Theo who didn't seem too interested in filling her in with the things she has been missing.

"Theo—"

"I suggest that you go to the hospital wing, you're brother and his friends might be expecting you," Theo stiffly says, shutting down Finley from any question that she may have. With her brewing curiosity, confusion, and most of all worry for what was happening with her friends, she was stuck. Who were they now? It seemed like ages since she last joked around with them.

Slowly, she walked towards Theo, holding his face with her hands, his cheeks were cold, hollow even. He hasn't slept and she knew it all too well, "What's wrong?" She asks him, his gaze still avoiding hers.

"It's nothing, just go," he tried to shrug it off but was too weak to release himself from Finley's hands. "It didn't seem like nothing," she frowns at him.

"Believe me, it's best for you to not know anything," he urges, taking her hands off his face, sitting down on the foot of his bed in defeat.

Finley, as much as she wanted to use legilimency on Theo, the look on his face told her that he didn't need that. He needed a shoulder to lean on, and so she gave it to him, kneeling in front of him, pulling his head on her shoulder, kissing her friend's temple in hopes that it would comfort him. She wanted to tell him that everything was going to be alright, everything will be okay. She can't give him false hope.

The moment she arrived in the hospital wing she expected something of an injury, maybe someone in a cast or a head injury. It was her fault for expecting the less of the worse thing that could happen to someone because the moment she stepped into the hospital wing she froze at the sight.

Ron was laying on a bed, pale, his breathing uneven while Hermione sat beside him anxiously waiting for him to wake up. She wanted to ask herself what happened, but then she remembered what she heard in the boys' dorm. Now she too paled.

"Your boyfriend did this, did you know that?" Harry spoke from behind her, his tone furious. "Are you still going to defend him?"

She couldn't say anything. She heard what happened, she was warned before but much like with her friends in their fight in the dorms, she was as clueless now more than ever.

"Speechless? Don't know what to say?" Harry confronts her, disappointment in his eyes as he stared at his sister as she stood there frozen. "Maybe now you can tell me what it is that you've been doing? Help me find out what's going on with Malfoy, and what Voldemort is planning—"

"I told you, Harry, I don't know," Finley pursed her lips, "I don't know what it is they're planning, I'm in the dark and both Blaise and Theo made sure of that."

"Then what about what Sebastian said, about Malfoy planning to kill Dumbledore," he asked her impatiently.

"I haven't seen Draco for months, Harry," she turns to him, "if you think I knew what was going on with him, then your wrong. I was told to stay away from him by my own best friend, do you think I would find out about something as serious as an assassination in my situation?"

"You could have at least tried," Harry frowned at her, "but seems like you're too wrapped around being a Slytherin than being my sister huh?" He says before walking towards his friends, leaving Finley by the double doors.

Watched as her brother and his friends feel relieved to see Ron alive and recovering from a poisoned Meade on his birthday.

'I need to make this right,' she thought, turning away from the scene of her lion friends. Hurrying her steps away with a mission to find anyone willing to give her answers, anyone, who would be willing to tell her what the hell was happening without the need to filter it.

'Maybe it's time,' she thought, turning towards the window that had the black lake's view. 'Maybe it's time to get that luck I've been brewing.