A Broken Inheritance

Chapter 32: 5th Time's a Charm

Chapter 32: 5th time's a charm

The walls of Anastasia's dormitory felt closer than usual, the darkness heavier. She paced the length of her room in slow, deliberate strides, her bare feet soundless against the cold stone floor. Outside, the wind howled faintly, a haunting echo through the castle corridors. But inside, it was silent—oppressive, almost suffocating.

She hadn't even bothered trying to sleep. The mere thought of closing her eyes and being dragged back into that relentless pit of terror made her stomach churn. Rest was pointless, unattainable. Her body was aching with exhaustion, her limbs heavy, her mind clouded, but she couldn't allow herself to stop moving.

Pausing at the foot of her bed, she glanced at the small stack of books she'd pulled earlier, desperate to distract herself. The topmost was still open, its pages filled with dense, intricate text. She'd been reading for nearly an hour but couldn't recall a single word. The sentences blurred together, incomprehensible, her mind too fractured to focus.

With a frustrated sigh, she slammed the book shut, the sound cutting through the stillness like a whip. She leaned against the bedpost, her hands gripping the wood so tightly her knuckles turned white.

For a fleeting moment, her mind wandered to the Gryffindor tower. She could go. It was a ridiculous idea, of course, but the thought lingered. She pictured Sirius sprawled across his bed, teasing her with his usual charm, James fidgeting awkwardly, and Remus quietly observing from the sidelines.

The image brought a bitter smile to her lips. How desperate are you, Anastasia?

Shaking the thought away, she crossed the room to her writing desk. It was neat, orderly, everything in its place. Except for the letter.

Her eyes landed on the crisp parchment folded neatly in the corner. Tom's handwriting was immaculate, his words precise, deliberate, calculated even in their warmth. She hesitated before picking it up, her fingers brushing the elegant script as she unfolded it.

Dearest Anastasia,
I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits, though I suspect the latter may be a challenge this time of year. I confess I have missed your presence these past weeks and find myself eager for the time we will soon spend together.

Unfortunately, the Ministry has seen fit to occupy my attentions until after Yule day. It is a disappointment, of course, though I am pleased that we shall meet at your family dinner. The thought of your company sustains me, as does the promise of time together after.

Until then, take care of yourself, my dear. Do not allow the weight of your burdens to overshadow the brilliance I see in you.

Yours always,
T.M.R.

Her fingers brushed over the words absently as she read, her lips curling into a faint, sardonic smirk. "Brilliance." The word felt laughable coming from him.

She set the letter down, shaking her head. Splitting her winter break between Grimmauld Place and the Riddle estate. One cage to the other. She leaned back in her chair, the smirk fading as her eyes drifted toward the fire. Never thought she'd miss Grimmauld Place, but winter break with Regulus might actually be tolerable.

Her fingers tapped a restless rhythm against the desk, matching the beat of her thoughts. She exhaled heavily, running a hand through her hair before standing abruptly. The restlessness was unbearable now, buzzing under her skin like static.

Anastasia's gaze flicked back to the bed, the neatly arranged books, the suffocating familiarity of it all. The idea of staying here, of enduring another night trapped in her own mind, was unbearable.