why am i still writing this

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I opened my eyes and thought: too hard. So I shut my eyes and went back to sleep.

A while later, I reawakened (look it’s fancy for: woke up) and realised I was in the hospital wing.

People were arguing around me.

Ohh, yay! Screaming voices are always fun.

I tuned in.

“-LEFT HER THERE TO DIE! IT IS RIDICULOUS!”

“-SHE GOT WHAT WAS COMING TO HER!”

“-Amycus, perhaps you shouldn’t have left her wounded –“

“ALECTO STAY OUT OF THIS!”

“Your sister is right Amycus.” Came Snape’s voice from somewhere. Judging by the gasps, he’d just arrived and startled them. “Leave Poppy.” He snapped, and I heard her walk away and slam her office door. “You are aware of course of the Dark Lord’s plans for the girl.”

I'M NOT AWARE PLS INFORM ME

“Uhm...”

“Snape! She was out of line! Why should we treat her like royalty?!”

“You insolent beings. His plans aside; she is our master’s only connection to the Potter boy and you try to kill her? The Dark Lord doesn’t want these students’ dead; or hating the Dark Arts. They are supposed to be enchanted by what they can be offered with them! It isn’t that hard to understand, now is it?”

“I’m sorry.” Amycus muttered.

“If this happens again, I will be passing it on Amycus.” Snape growled. “Now get out.”

I heard the scuffle of their nervous feet as they left. I also heard Snape walking over to my bed. I kept my eyes closed. He touched my forehead and sighed.

“I’ll always look after you.” he said almost inaudibly. It was more like a whisper in the breeze. Perhaps like a thought. “I promised.”

Snape left, and I sat up thoroughly confused.

I was so confused it was like desufnoc. Or edfuscon.

I’ll stop.

Who did Snape make a promise to?

Or did I just imagine all of that?

---

I was discharged from the Hospital Wing the following morning, despite Madam Pomfrey saying she’d rather keep me in there to be safe.

“Have you seen my wand?” I asked her.

“No, you didn’t have it on you when you came in.” She frowned.

“Some kid Ash took it. He said he’d come back for me in that – that room.”

“Ash? As in Asher Jacobs, the sixth year?” she said.

“Probably.” I shrugged. “Why?”

“He’s the head of the Inquisitorial Squad. That started up again. They do Raids on the students they think are trouble.”

“But he was being tortured!”

“They have a sort of...” she paused, thinking of how to phrase it. “Peculiar sense of humour.”

I sighed.

It’s going to be a bother to get that back. I wonder who else is in the squad.

“Stay safe Willow. I mean it. You nearly died yesterday.”

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