اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
UNIVERSAL TRUTHS FALL INTO Sawyer's scar-calloused hands amidst the snow on Christmas Eve as she perches on the ledge next to her bed with her legs dangling out the window, thrown wide open to let the cold in. The bitter chill sinks its teeth into her skin as the wind howls into the winter-grey sky, bleached of colour. A Green Day record spins on its turntable, volume cranked up so loud Sawyer felt the bass in the walls. She didn't care that the neighbours could hear, didn't care that she knew her mother hated when she blasted her music like this because it was inconsiderate and disruptive. But her mother hadn't spoken two words to her since their agreement to ease up on each other. Some darker part of Sawyer that'd been kept in its cage for too long wanted to see how far she could push her mother into breaking the promise, wanted to see if her mother would come storming into her room demanding for her to turn the music down, wanted to see if she could pick another fight.
But the most her mother had done was cast a sound-proofing charm on Sawyer's door, preventing the music from travelling any further from the confines of her four walls.
Down the hall, Sawyer hears the annual ruckus in the kitchen, her mother bustling about, the clatter of a tray slipping into the oven, Wyatt chattering about the Quidditch match Gryffindor had won, and how he was right about them beating Slytherin by a landslide. Sawyer had been there, sitting in the Slytherin stands with Quinn, the only splotches of buttercup yellow amidst a sea of jade. Quinn had Jeremy's scarf wound around her neck, screaming her head off with the heaving Slytherin crowd every time the Chasers scored a goal. Despite her friends making their best efforts on the pitch, Sawyer's head was turned on the other team's goalpost. She watched as Rio scored—the Slytherin team had decided to trial run a new tactic, letting Jeremy and Marcus run defense, protecting Rio who seemed to have an unmatched affinity for precision, fend off the Gryffindor chasers with whatever tacky manoeuvre Marcus had put together during their training sessions—a handful of times, before something in Oliver clicked, and he'd begun shutting down more goals with a relentless brutality until Harry caught the snitch.
After that game, Sawyer remembered Jeremy passing them talismans he'd bought from some fourth year smart enough to capitalise on the recent mystery of students being petrified every now and then. Quinn had kept hers, using it as a bookmark she never went anywhere without. As a cheap joke, Rio had turned his into an earring, which had been confiscated by Professor Snape within the first twenty minutes hours it'd been worn. Unsurprisingly, he hadn't been slapped on the wrist with a detention. Both Marcus and Sawyer had scorned Jeremy's paranoia. Bearing a talisman was as useful as a rosary. You could put all your faith in one thing, but you could never count on it to save you. Sawyer had set hers on fire. Within the month, two students and Nearly Headless Nick had been found, petrified, in the hallways at different occurrences. Marcus stuffed his scorn into his pocket with his talisman.
