Why? The Plot...

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Ashlyn was sitting in the all too familiar chair with a desk in front of her. The silver instruments glittered eerily in the candlelight. Did this office always look so unnerving? 

She sighed. What good was anything going to do? In the end, she would just remain a stupid fan...

"Miss Clarke, I assume that wand isn't yours," Dumbledore spoke.

"No, sir" Ashlyn answered. "It is Draco Malfoy's. He was loitering around in the forest. I send him away. I don't think he knew it was me. And I don't think he saw what had happened. But then again, I think. And that never goes well. I mean, I thought Crouch was safe and alive and breathing. But look where that ended. So most likely Malfoy would have seen everything and now the whole school is going to know. And of course, it would only be a matter of seconds before Malfoy's father finds out and then the board and Wizengamot will find out and I'll get expelled and my wand will be snapped in two. Snap!" 

Dumbledore just looked at her with his bright twinkling blue eyes. And somehow, she didn't like it.

Ashlyn sighed again and told him everything that happened.

Finally, Dumbledore spoke.

"Ashlyn, it is not your fault,"

"...Is there anything else you want to ask, sir?" she said

After a small pause, he said, "Yes. How far have you come with the portkey?"

"No progress, sir. And anyway, I don't think I'll need it to make one any longer," Ashlyn said dully.

"I see,"

"Anything else, sir?"

"No,"

"Then I'll take my leave. Good night,"

And with that, she left.


She wandered the castle aimlessly, still clutching Malfoy's wand tightly in her hand, her knuckles whitening, nails digging into her palm. 

She went all the down to the kitchens. Food should cheer her up. But she couldn't enter. She stood there in front of the portrait. Cheer her up? Why? Why should she be happy? 

It was her fault after all.

So she went all the way up to the Gryffindor tower.  She could tell the Golden Trio. They might be able to help her. But what would she tell them? She stood in front of the Portrait hole but didn't utter the password. Would she tell them that they were just characters of a novel she liked? And that is the only reason she was ever friendly with them? Honestly, did anyone even know her? Everything she had done so far was because she knew how the story goes. If Harry hadn't been the protagonist if Ron and Hermione hadn't been his best friends if the Weasley's weren't like Harry's family if the Golden Trio wasn't the Golden Trio if it wasn't like the book she liked, would she ever have looked twice at them? She knew the answer, and it was no. She wouldn't have ever cared if they lived or died or...or anything. Many people die each day. They would just be a part of that number. She just cared because they were her favourite characters. How selfish...she was so selfish. 

It was her fault after all.

And so she went to the seventh floor and walked thrice across the blank stretch of wall. A door didn't appear. Well, of course, it wouldn't. Not when she was not thinking of a specific instruction. But somehow it seemed that even the castle was mocking her. Did she even deserve to stand in it? No, of course not. How stupid of her. 

It was all her fault after all.

So then she went to the owlery. Maybe she could spend some time with Dawn. But why should she? Or rather why should Dawn spend time with her? The only reason she had bought Dawn was because her favourite novel's character had got an owl, and they seemed pretty cool and useful. If the story had a different turn, she would have probably behaved differently too. She was such a fake.

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