Help! I'm Having Twins With Harry Styles! But I Hate Him! Don't I?

There is Romance in the Air and Possibly Evil

There was hunger growling like a rabid zombie in the pit of my stomach, but after walking in on two of my male dorm mates standing at the urinal, I couldn’t face any of the other students.

The glow in my face remained, warming the coldness of the school as I explored while everyone else was eating. It felt like someone was watching, but every time I glanced around, there was only the path I’d trodden behind me.

“Just my imagination,” I told myself. “Ghosts don’t exist.”

It was then, as I thought to head back upstairs, that I noticed the edge of a doorway hidden by a heavy velvet curtain.

Just as I was about to pull it back,  a hand swiftly caught my wrist. It moved so fast that it appeared like a blur, without definition, like a slender, fleshy freight train that had lost its brakes because of terrorists trying to steal the cargo on board.

“You should never go down there!” Professor Cullen snapped, dragging me away with a strength that did not seem human.

The shadows seemed to wrap around his face, a balaclava of tightly woven darkness that covered the light of his pale skin in an ominous mask of frightening authority.

“I… I’m sorry!” I spluttered, specks of white spittle sticking to Professor Cullen’s robe.

“Really!” he insisted, hissing into my face like he was a hungry wolf and I was a prime cut of beef. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Ok, Sir, Headmaster, Professor!” I blurted, aware that his grip was so tight on my arm I was afraid that it would fall off.

“I am your father and I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you Elise,” he rushed, his expression softened a little, and he released me.

“But, but you gave me up!” I exclaimed irrationally, shaking my head. “I was your baby, and you gave me away! How did you know that I wouldn’t get hurt then?”

“And it was the most difficult thing that I ever had to do,” he frowned, his face carved intricately like a cheap reproduction Tiki made in a Chinese sweatshop by ten year old girls given up at birth by their parents wanting sons.

I felt like those girls, abandoned and betrayed to the horrors of the world without any care. It was tragic, and terrible, and I deserved better! I deserved more. My life was so unfair!

“Stay close to Harry,” he instructed, beseeched.

“I don’t want to stay close to Harry,” I pouted, but a part of me was overjoyed with joyous joy at the idea that my father approved of Harry spending time with me; it was joyful.

But, I consciously denied it, stomping on it angrily with the kind of heavy, steel toed work-boots that I would never, ever be caught dead wearing because they’re not fashionable.

“He’ll look after you,” Professor Cullen assured, but I had no idea why exactly I needed looking after. “Classes have been cancelled for the day ahead of the Winter Festival Masquerade Ball, so you should hurry along and organise your costume.”

“Because I carry ball gowns with me whenever I get sent to a boarding school in a foreign country,” I dropped with icy sarcasm.

“Hmm, actually, I have just the thing,” Professor Cullen declared, and I followed him through the cavernous school building to what seemed to be his private quarters.

That might have been weird, but he was my dad so, I shrugged it off.

“This is where I keep some of your mother’s things,” he told me quietly, reverently. There was a lot of love in his tone, but also something else I could not quite discern.