In the Shadow of Serpents

Olivia Middleton's POV

I run out of Dumbledore's office, my mind spinning, my chest tight with emotions I can't process. I'm barely aware of my surroundings when I bump into someone, and before I know it, I'm on the ground, my back hitting the cold stone. I look up, my vision blurry from tears, and see Chris and Rafael standing over me. I don't think, I just act. I throw myself at Chris, burying my face in his chest and sobbing like a child.

They're both frozen at first, unsure of what to do. I don't even know why I'm crying—maybe it's the letter, maybe it's the overwhelming sense of betrayal, but I can't stop the tears. Chris gently wraps his arms around me, and for a moment, I feel safe, even though everything feels wrong.

He doesn't say anything, just pulls me to my feet and guides me toward the Slytherin common room. I can feel Rafael trailing behind us, but I'm too lost in my own thoughts to care about anything else. The portrait doesn't let us in at first, but after a few heartfelt pleas from Chris, it finally opens. I'm still in his arms, my body shaking, my eyes squeezed shut. He carefully sets me down on a comfortable leather couch, and I finally open my eyes, staring blankly at the room around me.

None of it matters. The walls, the house, the colors—they're all meaningless right now. The only thing that matters is the letter.

"Darling, please, what's wrong?" Chris asks softly, cupping my face in his hands. He wipes the tears from my cheeks, and I can see Rafael standing in the background, watching me with silent concern. "You weren't in the Great Hall today... Are you skipping meals?"

I shake my head, unable to speak, the lump in my throat preventing me from saying a single word. Chris can feel my pain, I know he can. I trust him. I pull the letter from my robes and hand it to him without a word.

They both read it in silence. I don't look at them, don't dare to see what they're thinking of me. When I finally manage to lift my head, Chris is already pulling me into another tight hug. I can feel his tears soak into my shoulder, and the warmth of his embrace somehow makes everything feel a little less heavy. He's like a brother to me, maybe even more than that. When he pulls back, Rafael steps in, wrapping his arms around me too. I let them, letting myself be held, not caring that they're seeing me at my weakest.

I barely register the sound of footsteps until Malfoy's voice cuts through the room. "What's a Ravenclaw doing here?"

I turn, and there he is, standing at the top of the stairs. As soon as Draco sees me, his eyes widen, and he stops dead in his tracks. I know what he sees—someone who looks like a mess. My eyes are red, my face blotchy, my body trembling from exhaustion and hunger. He doesn't say anything more, just takes a step back and slams his bedroom door shut.

Is he disgusted by me? Is this what I've become in his eyes?

Chris's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. "I'm so sorry, Livvy. You shouldn't have had to go through that. I really wish you were my sister. I wish I could have taken care of you like the big brother you always deserved."

His words make me break down again. I can't help it. "You are," I whisper through my sobs, and Chris pulls me into another hug.

After a moment, he pulls back and speaks again. "Do you want to stay here? You can take my dorm if you—"

"No, I'll go back to mine. Hermione will be worried." I cut him off quickly, not wanting to stay. "Okay, then I'll walk with you." Chris reaches for my hand, but I stop him. "No, it's fine. You're already here. Rafael can walk me," I say, turning him down gently. Rafael has been quiet the whole time, not saying a word, but I feel his presence.

He finally speaks, his voice soft and calm. "If you want, I can walk you back."

I nod, silently. "Thanks."

And with that, we leave the Slytherin common room, the weight of the world still pressing down on my chest.

Rafael takes my hand in his, his fingers intertwining with mine, and for a brief moment, I don't pull away. I don't mind it. I know he likes me, but right now, I'm too broken to process it. I'm barely holding it together, let alone walking in a straight line. My body feels weak, like I can't do anything without falling apart. I don't want to be alone, but at the same time, I do.

We walk in silence, the kind that feels heavy, pressing down on me. Every step feels like it takes all my strength. Eventually, we reach Gryffindor Tower. Rafael breaks the silence, his voice soft but firm.

"You know, I'm always here for you. No matter what happens, you can always come to me."

I don't answer, but I don't have to. I throw myself into his arms, and he wraps them around my back, rubbing it up and down, as if trying to calm the storm inside me. It doesn't work. The tears are already coming, falling without control, but his embrace is comforting. In that moment, I feel like maybe all my fears and pain are miles away. No one can touch me here, and for a second, I let myself believe that.

When I finally break the hug, he takes my hands in his and brings them to his lips, kissing them gently. A small, involuntary smile tugs at my lips. I hate myself for it, but it's there, and I can't help it.

"You can always count on me," he says, and then walks me up the stairs to my gate. I whisper the password and head inside.

I'm relieved when the common room is empty—everyone else is already at curfew. I don't want to face Hermione right now. If she sees me like this, I know she'll bombard me with questions I'm not ready to answer. But when I get to the dorm, to my surprise, she's already asleep. I'm sure she's exhausted from trying to keep me distracted, from keeping up the charade that everything is fine when it's clearly not. She probably spent the whole day with Malfoy's situation, trying to make me laugh, to lighten the mood.

I don't have the energy to get out of bed. I haven't eaten in days, haven't been to any classes. My hand is still aching, the dull throb constant in the background of everything. I can't sleep, either. My eyes feel like they weigh a ton, dark circles beneath them like bruises. But it's the emotional pain that cuts the deepest. My heart feels hollow, like there's nothing left inside me but emptiness. I can't think straight.

I missed the Quidditch match. Harry and Malfoy were both hurt. Hermione told me about it, but it didn't matter. None of it did. She knows about the letter now, and she was heartbroken too. It wasn't just the truth about my parents that broke her. It was the abuse—the part I hadn't told anyone, the part I kept buried.

A few days later, Harry comes to my dorm. I'm sitting on the bed with Hermione, who's trying her best to be cheerful. "Harry, you can't be here," Mione says, her voice shaky. I know what she's really worried about—how I'll look. How I'll seem. But Harry's not scared of my anger like the others are.

"It's alright, Dumbledore told me to keep an eye on her," Harry says, but I cut him off before he can finish. "Did he? Did he really?" I ask, my voice sharp, laced with bitterness. "Mione, can I talk to her? Alone?" Harry asks. She looks at me, and I nod silently. She gets up, giving us space, and closes the door behind her.

"Liv, listen," Harry says as he sits next to me on the bed. "I'm sorry for what happened. You don't deserve any of this."

His hands find mine, and for a moment, I don't pull away. I can't bring myself to. I've always known Harry cared about me, in his own way. I've felt it, too. There's this quiet connection between us, something that's always been there, even if neither of us ever really acted on it.

"You can count on me," he says, his voice soft but steady. "I'm always here. And as long as I'm here, nothing can hurt you." He kisses my forehead, and I feel a tightness in my chest, like my heart is breaking all over again.

"Look," he says, standing up. "You need to get up. We're going to dinner. You need to eat. I've seen Hermione bring food up from The Great Hall, and you haven't touched it." He's right. I haven't eaten anything. I feel dizzy, weak, but I don't want to admit it.

"And you need a shower," he adds, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. "You reek."

I give him a half-hearted punch on the shoulder, but when I stand, he's already walking out. I take a deep breath, wipe the tears from my eyes, and follow. Maybe I'll make it through the night. Maybe.

I clean up, taking a hot, soothing shower to relax myself. When I step out, I feel a little more at ease. Afterward, I make my way down to The Great Hall. As soon as I reach the gate, Chris spots me and pulls me into his arms, twirling me around like I'm a weightless feather. I chuckle a little, my heart light for a moment. When he lets me down, he kisses my cheek softly.

"I'm so happy you came," he says, his voice full of warmth. "Now eat up, darling. I won't keep you long." With that, he walks over to the Slytherin table, settling in as if he belongs there—he really shouldn't be in Slytherin.

I head over to the Gryffindor table, where my inner circle is. The twins, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny know a bit about what's happened to me. They're the only ones who truly know. Everyone hugs me lightly, each of them offering silent comfort.

"Liv, love, you know..." George begins, his voice soft and concerned. "Mom wouldn't mind having you over for the breaks and holidays. You can live with us. She loves you; you know that," Fred adds, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

I shake my head, unable to accept. "No, no, you guys. I wouldn't want to be a burden. I'll stay here with Rafael, that's fine."

I can feel their disappointment, but I stand my ground. Hermione had offered to let me stay with her too, as had Chris, but I said no to both of them as well. I don't want to stay at Hogwarts. I want to talk to Dumbledore after dinner, get some answers.

To my surprise, there's been talk of a dueling club being formed, something to help us defend ourselves now that the Chamber's been opened. And of course, it's taught by two of my least favorite people—Snape and Lockhart. Hermione practically drags me into the club, determined that I'll join.

It's the second day of the club, but the first for some, myself included. Lockhart and Snape are prattling on about spells, none of which are new to me. I've practiced them during my stay. Lockhart eyes me, his overconfident grin too wide.

"Come on, Middleton, let's see how you do," he says, eager for a chance to show off. "Fine then, Malfoy can duel her," Snape says, practically glowing with pride for the Slytherin prince. Little does he know, he's about to watch Malfoy get a taste of his own medicine.

"Good luck, Middleton," Lockhart says, but I don't acknowledge him. I don't even bother with a 'thank you'—it's not needed. Malfoy and I step into the center of the stage, wands at the ready. He's already smirking like he thinks he's got this in the bag.

"Don't worry, Middleton. I'll go easy on you, since you're a girl," he says smugly, and my anger spikes. That's the last straw. "Scared, Malfoy?" I challenge, my smirk matching his. I'm fueled by so much anger right now that if I don't let it out, I'll explode.

We bow, take five steps back, and turn to face each other, following the instructions to disarm, nothing more. Lockhart begins counting down, but before he hits three, Malfoy shoots a spell at me.

"Everte Statum!" he yells, and I see the flash of light aimed right at me. Before the spell can hit, I block it easily with a smirk. "Protego," I say, the shield charm making the spell ricochet. Malfoy's face falls, but Snape looks almost proud of me.

Malfoy isn't done yet. "Ascendio!" he shouts, sending another spell toward me. I'm ready. "Impedimenta!" I cast, freezing him in place, then follow up with an "Expelliarmus!" and his wand flies from his hand. I catch it midair with a "Wingardium Leviosa" and hold it there, grinning with pride.

The entire room erupts into applause, loud and proud. I flick my hair and relish the moment. Then, I hand Malfoy his wand back, releasing him from the spell.

But just when I think it's over, Malfoy shoots another spell, "Serpensortia!" A snake materializes in the middle of the room, hissing and slithering toward us.

"Don't move, Middleton. I'll get rid of it for you!" Snape says, marching forward like he's about to play hero. But before he can do anything, Harry—of all people—starts speaking to the snake in Parseltongue.

I didn't know Harry could do that. The snake pauses, its focus now on a student. I glance around. Harry's trying to calm it, but it doesn't seem to listen.

I don't wait. I speak quickly. "Vipera Evanesca," I say, vanishing the snake before Snape can even draw his wand. The snake disappears into thin air.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and I run out of the room, the chaos of it all settling over me like a storm. Harry doesn't even realize he was speaking Parseltongue, and we all explain what happened. Once we're back in the dorms, we try to relax, but I can't shake the feeling that something bigger is brewing.

The next day at breakfast, everyone is staring at Harry, their eyes full of suspicion. Hermione and Ron exchange apologetic glances, but I'm not worried about that. I sit next to Harry, placing my hand on his arm. I rest my head on his shoulder.

"I know what you said," I murmur. "You were really telling the snake not to attack. Don't worry about what others think. I know you're right." But he doesn't seem convinced. He's still bothered by the looks. He stands up abruptly.

"I'll see you guys in the common room," he says, his voice distant. He walks off, and I just sit there, watching him go.

Later, I'm in the Slytherin common room with Chris. We're talking when Malfoy and his goons walk in. He looks at me, and I roll my eyes. It's been days since the incident with Dumbledore's office, and Malfoy's still giving me those looks. He sits down on the black leather couch with Crabbe and Goyle on the opposite side. They're acting strangely, but I can't hear their conversation.

Chris notices me staring at Malfoy and smirks. "You know..." he starts, and I snap my attention back to him. "What are you smirking at?" I ask. "We all think Malfoy has a crush on you," he says, nodding toward Draco. "Are you kidding me?" I almost laugh in shock. "There's no way! Why would he have a crush on me? I'm a Muggle-born."

"Well, maybe not you, but everyone in my year thinks he's harassing you because he likes you. I've seen him staring at you during meals. When you weren't there, he looked...sad," Chris says, raising an eyebrow.

I cut him off, shaking my head. "He doesn't know that I might not be a Muggle-born, so drop it."

I glance over at Crabbe and Goyle. They look eerily like Harry and Ron, and that thought is enough to make my stomach turn. What are they doing here? What are they involved in?

"Alright, I've got to go. I'll see you in the morning!" I say, hugging Chris and kissing his cheek before rushing out. I'm not sure where I'm going, but I know I have to find answers—answers that don't seem to make sense yet.