#ravenjake

[slyamelie-blog]

☣┊Last Chances. (A+J) ;

    I’m not dying in here--          Move, this is your last warning! 

Some of them had lined themselves up like a barricade to prevent anyone from leaving, a few had hidden themselves in the corners, and the rest were shouting angrily and demanding they be let go. 

Amélie had her arms wrapped around her waist as she watched, holding her breath.

Arguments amongst Slytherins were not uncommon, but she’d never seen some of her peers this frantic before. The yelling had quickly dissolved into shoving as the group moved towards the exit, fingers curling around wands and fists balling. The situation was escalating and Amélie was at a complete loss over what to do. She couldn’t find Zico, she couldn’t contact Hyungwon. All that she knew was that she didn’t want to die in here-- she didn’t want anyone to have to die. 

A body skittered across the floor and as soon as Amélie recognised her as the fifth year she’d been tutoring, she rushed over to the angry mass and tried to push her way to the prefect. But she was too late, they were already blinded by the fear. Lights flashed from the corner of her eyes. Somehow she got caught in the crossfire and something hit her head, hard. Her knees buckled and everything went dark. 

It was a faint scream that awoke her. She groaned as she heaved herself up from the cold tiles and clutched at her head, waiting for her vision to clear. The common room was almost deserted, save for a defeated few who had gathered together in the center. They looked towards Amélie, even stretched out a hand, but she glared at them pitifully before stumbling out of the common room, leaning against the dungeon walls for support. 

[slyamelie-blog]

┊Innocence under Moonlight; (A+J) ;

↺ FLASHBACK . . .

Small feet travelled far in the midnight hours. 

Sleep had evaded the girl once again (she could still hear her parent’s bitter exchange from downstairs, even with her pillow over her head) and instead of tossing and turning in her bed, she had crept out the window and onto the streets. With a destination in mind, she didn’t dawdle, although she didn’t quite know the way. Instead, she let her instincts guide her and kept to the shadows; a peculiar path for a nine year old girl to take, but she wasn't afraid. In fact, she was more concerned about being rescued by police and taken back to her loud, dysfunctional ‘home’ than a criminal leaping out from the dark. 

She could easily outwit a lowly thug-- but upsetting a muggle cop would only end poorly for the daughter of two pureblooded wizards.

Her slippers shuffled quietly across the cement as she continued on her way. Soon enough, a shadowy structure came into view. It looked like a twisted tree. The long and spiralled branches coiled from the ground to high up in the air. But as she drew closer, it became clearer, and she quickly realised it was what she had been searching for. The playground-- a place she had passed several times. A place she knew the muggle children enjoyed. A place, she too, had always wanted to enjoy. 

Her smile pushed on pale cheeks.

But she discovered something unexpected as she walked onto the squishy grass. Someone was there, with their back turned towards her. The dark night had kept them hidden from a distance but as she walked closer, it looked like a boy. Her hand reached out of the pocket of her soft gown and tapped on the boy’s shoulder.

     “Hey--”