Chapter 10

                                    

                                          
The library was the one place Bella could go where the chaos of Hogwarts seemed a little less overwhelming. She could breathe in the silence, the comforting scent of old parchment and ink, the low murmur of students whispering over their books. Here, in the midst of all the whispers about Sirius Black and the Dementors, Bella could pretend for just a moment that everything was normal.
But it wasn't. Not really.
Bella sat at a corner table, flipping through a thick book on hexes. The words blurred before her eyes, not from fatigue but from the constant weight of the thoughts swirling in her head. The black dog had been everywhere lately, always in the shadows, waiting, watching. She had seen it again this morning, near the Whomping Willow, its eyes gleaming as it stared at her. But no one else seemed to see it. Not Cedric. Not Remus. Not even Fred and George, who had been teasing her earlier about the "ghost dog" that only she could spot.
Her hands gripped the edge of the book, her knuckles pale as she tried to focus. Cedric sat across from her, scribbling notes, occasionally glancing at her with a furrowed brow. He had been trying to get her to talk, to open up, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't really listening.
Finally, Cedric spoke, breaking the silence. "You sure you're okay? You've been off all week."
His voice was gentle, but Bella could hear the concern wrapped up in his words. But was it real? Did he actually care, or was he just trying to play the role of the good friend, the nice guy who never questioned anything?
"I'm fine," she muttered, staring down at the pages in front of her. The text on hexes was particularly useless right now, her brain too clouded to concentrate. "I just have a lot on my mind."
Cedric raised an eyebrow. "About Sirius Black?"
Bella glanced up, catching his eyes for the briefest second before looking away. He had a way of making her feel like he could see right through her, but not in a good way — more like he could read her thoughts and dismiss them just as easily.
"What else would I be thinking about?" she said, her voice clipped.
He sighed, setting his quill down, his eyes softening with something like empathy. But there was a tension in his shoulders that suggested he was trying not to push too hard. "You've been on edge about it for a while. We all have. But... Bella, I know this is hard for you, but you have to understand — it's possible that this... dog thing you keep seeing, it might just be—"
"Just be what?" Bella interrupted sharply, her words biting more than she intended. Her hand slammed down on the table, making the book tremble. "Just in my head?"
Cedric blinked, startled by her outburst. "Bella, I didn't mean—"
"Yes, you did." Her voice trembled with frustration, and her eyes flashed with anger. "I've seen it, Cedric! The dog. It's real. It's been following me. It watches me when I go outside. I'm not imagining it."
He held up his hands in a placating gesture, a slight frown creasing his forehead. "I believe you, I do. I just—" He paused, looking for the right words. "It's just... with everything going on — the rumors, the stress of the Dementors, and what happened last year with your dad — maybe it's easy for things to get a little... confused?"
Bella's heart thudded in her chest. He didn't say it outright, but it was clear what he meant: he thought she was losing her grip. Losing touch with reality.
Her fingers curled into fists, her frustration spiking. "So you're saying I'm crazy? That I'm imagining the dog that everyone else seems to ignore? That I'm just some sad girl grieving for her dad and making up ghosts to cope with it?" Her voice was low but sharp, her chest tightening.
Cedric winced. "No! No, I didn't mean that. I just meant... I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want you to be distracted by things that might not be real. We can't afford to be distracted right now."
"I'm not distracted!" she hissed, her voice a little louder than she intended. The library around them seemed to shrink, the quiet hum of other students dimming as she and Cedric's conversation turned more heated.
He opened his mouth to respond, but Bella held up a hand, cutting him off. "I just want to know the truth. I can't pretend everything is fine when there's something wrong. I don't care if I sound crazy, Cedric. I'm tired of pretending."
There was a silence then, thick and uncomfortable, stretching between them. Cedric's expression had softened, the fight leaving his eyes as he looked at her, unsure of how to fix the rift between them. He reached across the table, placing his hand gently on top of hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a gesture that was supposed to be comforting.
"I didn't mean to upset you," he said quietly, his voice low. "I just... care about you."
Bella swallowed, staring down at his hand. The warmth of his touch made her heart twist, but the anger was still bubbling inside her, the sting of being doubted too fresh to let go. She pulled her hand away from his, the cool air in the library suddenly feeling sharp and uncomfortable.
"Maybe it's not about what you think," she muttered, her voice small now, her anger ebbing into something more vulnerable. "Maybe I just want someone to believe me."
Cedric stared at her for a long moment, a furrow of concern knitting his brow. "I do believe you, Bella. But—"
"But you don't. Not really," she whispered, her voice breaking just a little. She hated how weak it sounded. "If you did, you wouldn't keep brushing it off."
He opened his mouth to argue but stopped, clearly torn between wanting to comfort her and knowing that whatever he said might make things worse. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"I'm sorry," he said at last, his voice soft. "I should've just listened. I didn't mean to make you feel like you're imagining things. I know it's hard. I just... I don't want to see you hurt."
Bella met his gaze, feeling a wave of frustration and confusion. She wanted to be angry at him. She did. But as much as it stung, she also knew he was only trying to protect her in his own way. The problem was, she didn't need protecting from her own thoughts. She needed answers.
There was a long, heavy pause, filled with unspoken words, as she tried to calm the storm inside her. Her eyes flickered toward the window, but the sight of the grey sky and the snow drifting down only deepened her sense of isolation.
Finally, Cedric spoke again, softer this time. "If you see it again — the dog — you'll let me know, won't you?"
Bella nodded, but her voice was tight when she answered. "I don't need to tell you everything, Cedric. I'm not a child."
He winced at the tone of her words, but the hurt in his eyes made her instantly regret her sharpness. She wasn't angry at him, really. She was angry at everything that had happened — at the fact that her father was still out there, and that no one seemed to understand what she was going through.
As the silence stretched, Cedric leaned back, running a hand through his hair, looking guilty. "I just don't want to lose you to all of this," he murmured, almost to himself.
But the words hit Bella in a way she hadn't expected. She felt lost. And maybe, just maybe, Cedric was right — maybe all of this was starting to tear her apart. She didn't want to think about that now. She couldn't.
They both sat there, the conversation suspended between them like an invisible wall.