In a world ravaged by good and evil, those toeing the line find solace in nothing. Blood runs thicker than water, but is risking your life and livelihood for a war you never wanted a part in worth it? Is becoming a monster in the eyes of some, and a...
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The first few days after returning from Christmas break at the Parkinson manor, everything had seemed as it were before. But, it didn't take long for Maeve to begin to see the differences.
The first few months of term hadn't been especially sunny, but the faces of her peers had darkened in their time away from Hogwarts. Maeve had spent her holidays complaining about Pansy and Blaise's disgusting relationship while some families had been fearing for their lives.
Maeve stopped in the middle of the busy hallway, stepping aside as she felt every internal organ constricting painfully with guilt. When she lifted her head, she caught sight of a trio walking down the hallway with pale, grief-stricken faces. Longbottom, Weasley, and Anthony.
There was no Luna.
In a moment of panic, Maeve thought back through the past few days, wracking her mind for glimpses of the strange Ravenclaw.
Her heart stuttered to a stop, but her feet moved of their own accord as her focus split between not wanting the particular brand of horrible detention Amycus Carrow bestowed, and the blonde-haired Ravenclaw who was only a year younger than her and gone within the space of two weeks.
Throughout Amycus Carrow's in-depth explanation of Fiendfyre and it's many uses, Maeve found herself staring at a point just above the Carrow's head. She turned the page in her textbook when prompted, glanced at the chalkboard when told, and stared blankly at the page when they were told to read themselves the difficult casting process. She was thinking about Lovegood, a witch she barely knew and would barely consider more than an acquaintance, and how deeply Luna's disappearance bothered her.
Maeve's thoughts drifted to the previous school year and the unwitting hand she'd had in the death of Albus Dumbledore. She thought of her parents and their allegiance to the Dark Lord. She wondered if, like with Dumbledore, she shared blame for anything that happened to Luna.
With every day that passed, it felt as though her parents and their choices fell back onto Maeve. She felt stifled by every expectation placed upon her. Even thinking about anything other than the nothingness of the present made Maeve's guts tighten and throat constrict.
"Rivers, Oliver," Amycus' voice broke Maeve from her spiral, but she felt her breathing shallow as she caught sight of his excited expression. He rolled up the parchment he'd read the name from and smiled expectantly at the Hufflepuff boy who was practically quivering in his seat. When Oliver didn't make a move to stand, Amycus' eyes slanted to slits and he yelled, "up, boy!"
There was a sharp knock on the door, before the second of the pair arrived in the classroom, dragging a first-year Gryffindor boy by the back of his robes. Alecto was an immovable force as the young wizard kicked and swore at her. She came to a stop beside her brother, before tossing the first year to the side like a sack of potatoes and training her wand on him.
