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I expected a lot from those lessons with the Carrow's, but the one thing I did not expect was dreading the moment they would end.

On the other hand, Wren couldn't wait; She was visibly looking forward to it, probably preparing the questions she would bombard me with as soon as we brought a considerable amount of distance between us and the classroom.

Her gaze kept flickering over to me, her leg bouncing in anticipation, waiting for the sound of the bell to echo through the hallways; signalling the end of the lesson.

I was just glad Draco couldn't pester me about who I cruciated, and when I did and why I did. For now, at least, I just had to deal with Wren.

Though, that also meant I had to talk about it twice in the time span of probably a few days; which wasn't necessarily my definition of fun, either.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by the loud gong of the bell, suddenly more eager than ever to get out of here. Everyone else was, too, though for very different reasons.

Mostly because of the fact a death eater was teaching this class, as well as the one before.

Arguably, Muggle studies with Alecto Carrow was worse than Dark Arts with her twin brother. The woman spewing nonsense for exactly ninety minutes straight.

It was even worse to see half the class agreeing with her bullshit.

I sat closer to the door than Wren did and therefore, was out faster, too. Unfortunately, my head-start did not grant me as much time as I had anticipated, and she caught up with me mere seconds after I stepped out of the door.

And while my pace picked up, and my steps got wider, so did hers.

"Is there something you'd like to share, Y/n?" She asked innocently, eyeing me before she looked straight ahead again like I was.

I sighed loudly, side-eyeing Wren; with a casual expression on her face, she walked beside me as her gaze flickered through the hallways, and along the empty walls, like it was her first time walking through them.

I didn't blame her; it all seemed different now without the paintings that used to decorate the hallways, without the candles flying above our heads in the great hall.

Which is precisely why I was headed outside; where not a lot had changed, honestly. The shore of the Black Lake still looked exactly the same. They couldn't smudge it with their traces of dark magic, couldn't bend nature to somehow serve their dark purposes.

It was still just as beautiful as before, the leaves on the trees starting to change into beautiful reds and browns, the sunlight glistening in the water. It seemed like an entirely different world, far from what was happening inside those halls only minutes away.

It was only a temporary relief, but it was something, at least.

Only once we had gotten outside, I looked at my best friend beside me again, swallowing thickly at the thought of the following conversation.

"I'm not quite sure what you want me to say, you know. Carrow made it quite obvious," I began, and she diverted her gaze off the grass to look at me with an eyebrow quirked.

"Well, there are a few questions popping up in my head," She retorted, sarcasm lacing her voice. "Ones like who, when, and why on earth did you never tell me?"

I scoffed, shaking my head slightly at the questions as I thought about how to tackle this best; what the best way to approach it was.

But then I thought, why bother? I wasn't quite sure why I was so set on concealing the fact that I cruciated Bellatrix LeStrange, of all people. The one witch that deserved it over all others.

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