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"I'M MY OWN STONE AROUND MY NECK""BE MY BREATH, THERE'S NOTHING I WOULDN'T GIVE"

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"I'M MY OWN STONE AROUND MY NECK"
"
BE MY BREATH, THERE'S NOTHING I WOULDN'T GIVE"

CHAPTER FIVE

   Running her fingers through her short hair, Anabelle closed her eyes as a frustrated groan escaped past her lips. "This is impossible!" she exclaimed. "None of this spells have worked, not even a bloody scrape has been mended!"

   "Well your complaining isn't exactly going to fix it either," snapped Draco, who was hunched by the Vanishing Cabinet, inspecting whether there had been any change in its damage. "Besides, I told you the library wasn't going to give us answers."

   It was now late September and they had progressed nowhere in their task. Both students were growing more and more frustrated and angry, emotions which they usually ended up taking out on each other. Their homework and other duties were also being more and more neglected as the days passed as the duo either completely forgot about them or just chose that they weren't the number one priority. As consequence, their grades were falling already and Draco had missed a generous amount of Quidditch practice, not to even mention prefect duties. Even in Transfigurations, which had always been Anabelle's favourite and strongest subject regardless of the house rivalry, the girl was left behind as they were now to use nonverbal spells even in McGonagall's class.

   "Oh, because you're just so amazingly positive," she seethed. "What a ray of sunshine. And how inferior I am to your extreme intelligence." Draco only glared at her before turning back to the cabinet. Anabelle groaned again. "I don't get it. It's nothing but a bloody cabinet, how can it be so damn difficult to fix!"

   The boy spoke without looking at her, the usual tone of contempt in his voice. "It's not just a cabinet, it's a Vanishing Cabinet," he said impatiently. "It's a very rare magical object, you can't just use Reparo."

   "And you think Granger is a know-it-all," Anabelle muttered, turning back to the Standard Book of Spells: Year 6 which was open in her lap.

   "Are you seriously comparing me to a Mudblood?" demanded Draco, whirling around to glare at her.

   The girl looked up at him, meeting his gaze, before turning back to the book. "Why do you insist on using that name?" she asked. "Does it make you feel better about yourself or something?"

   He looked confused for a second before his cold eyes narrowed. "Because they're filthy and should be addressed as such."

   "But why?" asked Anabelle with a frustrating air of nonchalance, as if they were discussing his favourite ice cream flavour. "Why are they filthy? Why are they inferior?"

   "Because they're impure, they have Muggle parents," he said the words as if they were addressing something most revolting. "Muggles are disgusting, aggressive people who have forced us into hiding through vicious persecution."

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