❝The monsters were never
under my bed.
Because the monsters
were inside my head.
I fear no monsters,
for no monsters I see.
Because all this time
the monster has been me.❞
[MARAUDERS ERA]
[METANOIA SERIES B2]
[COVER: -VOIDLEGENDS]
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— chapter seventeen — TWO DISOWNED, ONE DEAD
—
"IT'S NOT TOO late."
Remelda's eyebrow raised as she flipped the page of her muggle novel. Of course, it was disguised as to one about the dangers of werewolves in society (mother would be so proud!) so that no one would question it. But who was there to do so? The common room was empty, it was too late, and she was sitting with Demetri. It wasn't ideal in any way, but he wanted to talk and she didn't feel like moving at that moment, so she stayed.
She felt the need to laugh at him for saying that. He didn't understand, though she didn't expect him to. Remelda was one of the lucky ones with someone who knew the full truth and had a clear head, someone to teach her right from wrong. Demetri didn't have that, not many others in her house did. And while she despised the corrupt thoughts of those she shared a room with, she didn't hate the individuals. No, for the people poisoned with the beliefs they had, she felt immense pity because it was more probable that they would never understand – they would never see the light.
"I haven't a clue what you're talking about, Demetri," she innocently played. It was easier. She said things before she didn't mean. Well, she meant those words, but she didn't mean to say them in that moment.
Demetri sighed loudly, "Don't play dumb with me, Remelda. You remember the conversation just as well as I do."
Her eyes skimmed the page before realizing that she wouldn't really comprehend anything she was reading as she had the conversation; it would take up every thought and there would be none left for the novel. Which was a real shame, she was quite enjoyed The Great Gatsby. She bookmarked the page, placing it on the coffee table in front of her, silently noting to remember she set it there before leaving.
He eyed the book, "You're reading something like that and yet...yet you say these things?"
"What do you want me to stay?" Remelda questioned, brown eyes looking into his own intently, "That it was an off day? I didn't mean anything?"
"Yes!" he exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stopped pacing for a moment, "It's not that hard. You heard something from another house – right? That has to be it!"
Remelda didn't meet his gaze, opting to look at the Prophet on the table, picking it up to see the head. "You still read the news?" he asked, she nodded (it was true, she did), "It's all rubbish – don't believe anything."
"You're only saying that because of Alfred and that whole scandal," Remelda noted, "You don't actually believe that."
