Hogwarts' Shinobi

Chapter 47

I'm really sorry for not updating sooner!

The day Sakura's promise was put to the test was a terrible one. The sky itself rumbling in anxiety, the threat of rain unnerving. She knew the moment she woke up that morning that she'd regret this day, and yet she forced herself up anyway. Only now does she wish she didn't.

Everything that she did today felt wrong like she was cursed with misfortune. She could barely make it five steps before something bad befell her. Whether that was a misaimed prank or an uneven cobblestone, it was something she couldn't not notice.

At around noon, she stopped leaving the hospital wing altogether, locking herself in her room and sealing the door shut behind her. Her hand shaking with fear as she carved seals into the wood, small splinters cutting into her skin.

After sealing the door, she moved to the windows, each one being sealed firmly shut. Nothing could get in, and nobody could get out. Not even her.

She wobbled her way over to the large wardrobe in her room. After clambering inside, she settled herself on a heap of red clothes. She reached out to close the doors shut behind her before bringing shaking hands towards her body, whimpering quietly to herself as tears stained her face.

With deep breaths, she began running her way through the series of tasks she'd so frequently told patients to do.

Five things I can see, the door of the wardrobe, the tops I'm sitting on, my trousers, the pile of hangers, my socks.

Four things I can hear, the rain outside, the wind hitting my windows, the voices in the hospital wing, the rustling of my clothes when I move.

Three things I can feel, my feet in my socks, the headband in my hair, the hairband around my wrist.

Two things I can smell, the rain outside, the sweat on my dirty clothes.

One thing I can taste, the pumpkin soup I had for lunch.

With a shuddering breath, she leaned back, her head hitting the back of the wardrobe with a thunk. Her eyes fluttering shut as her heart rate slowed down gradually, her hands still quivering slightly.

A yawn escaping her throat causing her to bunch herself closer together before shutting her eyes. Calming down from the stress and fear that previously drove her body, she drifted off away from the world and into unconsciousness.

==

When she reawoke, it was due to a loud crash of lightning, the sound jerking her awake and causing her to jump to her feet. Her head slamming into the bar at the top of the wardrobe causing her head to throb with pain.

Her limbs ached from being curled up so tightly, her back sore from being in such an awkward position for so long. Pushing the door open, she stepped out of the wardrobe, eyes looking around the room skittishly as she shuffled towards her window.

Green eyes stared in terror out the window, something calling out for her to do so. How she wished she didn't. A human-sized shape of grey plummeted past her window, the long white hair that came with it painfully familiar.

A small shriek of shock making its way out her throat as she jumped back away from the window. The hand covering her mouth dampening as tears seeped through the cracks between her fingers. 

Body shaking in fear, she instinctively prepared to flicker down to him, the only thing stopping her was her promise to him. The knowledge that if she went now, she'd either break that promise or break her heart further being the only thing that tethered her to the room.

Back pressed against the far wall of her room as she cried herself to sleep. Her attempt of comfort being that this was what he wanted. That even if she brought him back from the curse miraculously, he'd been in pain and on the run-stopping her from going down.

==

Green eyes reopened only an hour or two later, the puffy redness caused by tears making the green glow more. With a deep breath, she stalked over to her wardrobe, shoving her belongings into the bag as best she could.

For the first time in a long time, she was scared for her future. It was one thing to be a spy when she had Dumbledore to vouch for her, but now he couldn't. 

Not that that was her worst fear, her worst fear was the dark side actually winning, and she wasn't quite ready to see the world fall to his feet just yet.

Moving to the door, she carefully scratched one of the seals, stopping them from being able to activate. The last thing she did before she left was grab one of the scrolls on her desk, picking up a feathered quill she scratched out one word. 

A tear falling on the parchment before she spiked her chakra and disappeared, where to, even she didn't know. All she had was an address and a photo from Dumbledore to go on.

==

Draco walked slowly to the Slytherin common room, the memory of Dumbledore's face clearly in his mind. His wand hand shook slightly, his left hand moving to grab his wrist in an attempt to hold it still.

The blonde boy came to a stop just outside the entrance of the Slytherin common room. The wall before him had never seemed so cold as it did right now. When he went to say the password, however, no words came out.

Instead, he found himself turning on his heel, subconsciously choosing to seek out the comfort of his pink-haired friend instead. He wanted to see her smile, to hear her tell him it was all going to be okay.

He knew his decision was unable to be undone, he knew that it was probably the wrong one. That everyone would hate him for it, but as long as she forgave him, he would take their hatred. His pace got subconsciously faster, his stride lengthening until soon he was running down the corridor.

He slammed the door to her room open, his breaths ragged as he took in the empty room. Silver eyes widening as they took notice of the scratched glass, the feeling of splinters under his hand as he pushed the door shut. He recognised those patterns, he'd asked Sakura what they were last year.

The only question was, why did she seal herself in her room? He shifted to look out the window, his eyes shutting quickly as he stumbled backwards. The sight of Dumbledore's body forcing him to accept the sickening truth. One he really didn't want to believe.

He slammed into the desk behind him, his right hand having reached out to catch himself. The feeling beneath it, however, was not wooden as he'd expected. The parchment beneath it sliding across the desk as pressure was applied. Lifting his hand, his eyes filled with tears as he read the word scrawled onto the paper in unnervingly familiar handwriting.

Sorry.