NOTES: I didn’t even notice but this one is almost as long as the last chapter but I hope you still like it... we’re getting more and more Dramione as the chapters go on.
Next update is on November 30th.
PREVIEW:
“I heard” Draco said “that the Weasel-by had gone to the Auror training college. Off to be a knight in second-hand armour.”
Her lips twitched and he noticed how soft they looked. They weren’t large and puffy or covered in makeup like some of the other girls in the Gryffindor seemed to wear them. They were small and pink but he could see the corner where she been chewing on them was slightly swollen and red. Draco unconsciously licked his own lips.
Looking back at her eyes he could see she was still waiting for his answer and as he whispered softly to the witch
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I’ve only got 3200 words to go to win NaNo, and I’m doing my best to get there. Today was a good day, managing 2200 words after work. We’re into the meaty
And now the part we’ve all been waiting for/dreading/expecting.
YOU KNOW WHERE THIS IS GOING. Consider yourselves warned.
“Bethany!”
I looked around as I ran, trying to find the source of my name. Blake was nearby, half hidden in the entrance to a mall. I headed in his direction.
The tension he’d been holding in his stance faded momentarily. “Thank god you got away.”
He’d cleaned the blood off his face but there were still specks of it here and there, the wound itself already red and swollen. I went to touch it but he pulled away.
“We need to get you out of here,” he told me as we headed further into the mall. His head darted left and right, and his movements were frantic. I’d seen him be tough, in control and awkward, but nothing had prepared me for seeing him scared.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “What the hell happened?”
He glanced around and shoved a fire escape open. I followed him through.
“I believe you, right. On everything.” His hands covered his face for a moment and he groaned, coming to a halt in the car park outside. “Magic is fucking real. I saw it...I saw it happen.”
“It’s a bit of a shock, I know-”
He cut me off. “[REDACTED] And she got hit by lightning too, out of nowhere. It’s the only reason I even got away from her, cause she definitely wanted me dead.”
“What did she say,” I asked. “Right before she was hit.”
Blake glanced at me, face momentarily blank. “Uh… something about not wanting to kill me. Then boom.”
We were still moving fast, heading down towards the docklands.
“Where are we going,” I demanded. This was all well and good now, but I needed to hide, get somewhere safe and secure before midnight. Marcus and Imogen’s place has seemed safe enough, but if they were the ones after me then I would have been trapped. “I need to get somewhere safe!”
I followed Blake down the side of a building and he stopped, grabbing me by the shoulders. "We’ll run away,” he said. “We'll just... go somewhere, disappear. I can protect you. I'm good at hiding." He was practically begging.
“What about your boss? What he’s got on you?”
Blake glanced over his shoulder, checking our surroundings. “We can deal with that later. Let’s just get you out of here before it’s too late.”
Something inside was warning me to run. I pushed the feeling down and searched his face, trying to work out if he was being genuine. “Ok.”
He smiled. “Come on then.”
Maybe Marcus had been successful at getting into my head and I was just being paranoid, but his smile seemed different this time compared to the others. I hesitated.
“Bethany?” he asked, smile faltering.
My heart started pounding when I realised the truth: his smile hadn’t reached his eyes.
I forced myself to smile back at him and took his hand in my own, hoping my voice wouldn’t betray my nerves. “Lead the way.”
He went to take me further down the alley then stopped, his arm and mine stretched to their limit. “Why aren’t you coming with?” He had a look of confusion and concern, which only made things worse.
My hand fell from his and I stepped back, needing to get away from him.
The concern wasn’t leaving his face, only now that I was looking properly I could see it wasn’t genuine. “Be-“
I turned and ran before he had a chance to say my name.
"I have your friends."
The four words he yelled after me were enough to stop me in my tracks. He'd told me my friends had escaped, they were safe...
No, that was wrong. I grabbed hold of the wall for support, no longer trusting my legs to hold me up. He'd said he'd lost them in the city loop. He'd never said they'd gotten away.
When I turned back around he was still standing where I’d left him, hands in his pockets and that pathetic attempt at concern on his face.
Heart in my throat I forced myself to speak. "You've had them this whole time?"
He actually looked insulted.
"No, we left them alone until today. I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this, but... " he rubbed his face. "You need to come with me or they're dead."
“I don’t believe you.”
He pulled out his phone and sent off a quick message. “Answer your phone.”
It was ringing when I pulled it out of my pocket. I answered the video call, Faith’s face filling the screen.
My world shrunk to the size of the screen. To the mascara running down her cheeks and the gun barrel being pushed into her neck.
The camera panned across to Smitty, who was tied to a chair next to Faith. Then the call ended.
I staggered to the side, gasping for air and struggling to stand until I hit the brick wall. This was too much, too real. It was happening.
“Breathe.” Blake was in front of me, a small frown on his face, holding me by the arms and stopping me from falling completely.
I shrugged his hands off me and slapped him, feeling the burn on my palm.
“I deserve that,” he mumbled, covering the red mark I’d left behind with his hand. “They’ll be fine if you come with me. Once transport comes to pick you up they’ll be let go, safe and unharmed.”
“And I’ll be on my way to my death.” It came out as a whisper, barely pushing past the lump in my chest.
All the colour had drained from his face. “I’m really sorry.”
“I thought you wanted to help me." I started crying, sobs wracking through my body. He’d almost sounded genuine, which made it hurt all the more.
For a moment he looked like he wanted to give me a hug, putting his hand to his forehead and pacing in front of me instead. “I did. I tried. I thought we’d saved you.”
“You could just not take me in. Let my friends go.” I wanted to vomit. He’d threatened this the night I’d met him, I’d known this was possible, only it had never seemed real.
“I can’t. I have to. I-”
“Fuck you and your excuses,” I spat.
How dare he have the nerve to look hurt.
“Fine, whatever.” I waved an arm towards the other end of the alley. “Take me to my death.”
“Don’t be like that.”
‘Don’t be like what,” I snapped. “Sad? Upset? Hurt?” He went to speak only I cut him off. “Are you gonna be the one to do it? If you are, make it quick because I don’t want to spend a moment longer with you than I have to.”
Now he looked like he was going to be sick. It was amazing how good an actor he was and I wondered how I’d never seen it before. Only i knew how; I’d been too distracted by an attractive guy with a stupid smile to listen to what he’d been telling me.
“I’m gonna need your phone.”
I threw it on the ground hear his feet and he stomped on it, shattering the screen.
“Can you wipe your face?” he asked.
“What,” I asked, sniffing. “You don’t want to be seen with a crying chick? Worried people will look at you like you’re a bad guy?”
Despite my protests I did as he asked, not wanting to draw attention to us either. If anyone thought there was something wrong then my friends would die, and I was willing to do whatever it took to avoid that.
We exited the other end of the alley, Blake walking next to me as if we were a couple. He tapped gently on my wrist when we needed to turn, eventually making his way to his car.
I sank into the passenger seat, the tears returning.
Blake started the car, turning his head to the side to look at me. “Seat belt.”
“Fuck you,” I replied.
"Please don't make this harder than it is." He leaned across me and grabbed the seat belt, clicking the tongue into the buckle at my hip.
"You have no right to ask that."
I stared out the window as he drove. I’d thought we’d had something, that he’d actually cared about me, only it had all been an act. It must have been, only what kind of person could fake that so convincingly? I Should have stayed where I was; I’d been safer with Marcus and Imogen.
Only I knew it was possible that wasn’t true either. I’d put too much trust, too much faith in strangers, when what I really should have done was go home to Mum and Dad like i’d promised.
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I cheated & wrote a little tiny bit of the intro to Saorsa before nano starts whoops!
Lachlann had developed three habits with the distinct purpose of pissing off his grandmother. The first was the easiest to explain, but the hardest to justify. He had picked up his first cigarette at seventeen knowing that the smell of it on his clothes was going to make her see red. And he picked up the rest of them because the addiction settled in faster than he expected, and he made little effort to fight it. That said, he didn’t particularly enjoy smoking. The acrid taste held no appeal for him, but it wasn’t something he could just put down.
The second was tarot. It was more of a hand-me-down interest from his absentee mother, but he had managed to make it his own. Her deck of cards, his own flair. He had made it into a career after his grandmother died – Though maybe it wasn’t the tarot that was the career, maybe it was only the lying.
The third, and most inexplicable, was the surfing. He was equally as passionate about it as his grandmother was against it. When he begged for a real board for his sixteenth birthday, she had looked down her nose on him, dropping her crochet on the coffee table. “You’re going to turn out just like your father.”
It was a staggeringly effective insult – always had been – despite the fact that he had never met the man.
So yesterday I was thinking about NaNoWriMo and wondering if I would bother entering this year as I had totally bailed on Camp NaNo twice already. Then, all of a sudden, a character appeared. She waltzed into my brain, put the kettle on and started unpacking. In less than 24 hours she has evolved from a glimmer of an idea into a fully-fledged protagonist... and I have fallen hopelessly in love with her and her autumn aesthetic. Please welcome Evie Sparks. She will be starring in this year’s attempt at NaNoWriMo in an urban fantasy so watch this space!
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So is it common for withdrawal symptoms to start 30 minutes after winning NaNo? Just checking. It’s my first time.
Seriously though. I don’t understand how am I going to go about my life without struggling to meet the day goals, updating the word count tracker for everyone to see and hanging around the forums. HOW.
First day ever of NaNo and I managed to write 1,795 words!?? I’m so thrilled guys!! Here is a little excerpt of what I wrote today. It’s from Chapter 2 of DISStopia:
“Hm, that’s odd.” The saleswoman scans the man’s bracelet again, but the light does not flash green. Instead, it flashes red over and over again, the light steady and rhythmic. The man cannot take his eyes off it.
“Oh shit.” He shakes his head. “Oh shit, no. No! It can’t be!” He pulls the woman forward by the collar of her white button-down shirt, his eyes manic and glaring. “Lady, how much value do I have? What does that computer say?”
“One moment, let me check-“
“NOW!” The man breathes deeply, his previously calm face now a mask of rage and panic.
The woman clicks a few buttons on her monitor. Her hand comes to rest over her painted lips and she looks up at the man with pity.
