LIONHEART ❃ george weasley

037 | moran in the bathroom

"This isn't about us, Faith," Albany interrupted, eyebrows furrowing. "I'm not here to—"

"I'M NOT MAD LIKE YOU!" Faith screamed, hands shaky as she clutched at her head, stumbling over to the few shards of mirror left on the wall. She examined her shattered reflection with a pained groan, and her hands slid down her face, smearing the beads of blood from her shallow wounds. "I'm not mad, I'm not mad—"

"She's mad," Myrtle sang from the windowsill, watching pleasantly.

"You're not mad," Fred assured her gently, shooting Albany a wary glance as he approached the girl. He lowered his wand. "But we need to know what you did to George—"

"You don't think I'm mad?" Faith asked, whipping around to face him with wide, manic eyes. "You don't? You promise?"

Fred nodded cautiously. "Promise."

Faith let out a short, humourless laugh, shoulders heaving. "I'm not mad."

"What did you do to George, Faith?" Albany asked, voice firm and wand hand unrelenting. "Can you lift the spell?"

"I don't want to talk to you!" Faith shrieked, glaring daggers at her. She turned back to the broken mirror, mumbling under her breath in a distressed manner.

Albany's face fell, and she lowered her wand, though remained on guard. She glanced desperately to Fred, who nodded seriously.

"Faith?" he addressed the girl softly, and continued despite the lack of response. "Did you cast a spell on George Weasley?"

"The spell," Faith whispered, a finger tracing the blood over her lip. "The spell, the spell, the spell...."

"Was it old magic?" Fred inquired, expression pleading. "Can you reverse it?"

Faith turned to him, eyes watery. "I don't know," she whispered. "I don't know what it was. I don't know how to fix it."

Fred took a step closer sympathetically, and she recoiled.

"I'll hurt you," she said, moving backwards. "Don't come closer. I'll hurt you."

"You won't," Fred said softly, and took another small step towards her. "You don't want to."

"I don't want to," Faith said, and Albany narrowed her eyes. The phrasing sounded off.

"What was the spell, Faith?" Albany asked, voice tense. "How do we lift it?"

"You," Faith spat, pointing a finger at the girl as her icy gaze shot her down, "stop talking. Be quiet."

Albany sighed, stepping back. Fred glanced to her sympathetically, before returning his focus to Faith.

"Do you know what spell it was?" he asked kindly. "A name, anything?"

Faith shook her head violently, growing agitated again as her hands turned to fists in her matted hair. "No," she moaned, doubling over. "No, no...."

"Please!" Albany piped up again, growing desperate. "We need to help George!"

Faith snapped straight upwards in an instant. "I SAID QUIET, MERLINSON!"

Albany stepped back and drew her wand again, eyes widening in fear as Faith's eyes flashed golden. There was a horrible groaning and rumbling sound from directly above her, and Albany glanced up in horror at the cracks rapidly forming in the ceiling, a thorn of terror piercing her chest.

"Arresto Momentum!"

The heavy debris barely left the ceiling before coming to a halt, and Albany gaped at it in shock before Fred grabbed her sleeve and yanked her out of the way.