Sectumsempra

"Sectumsempra!" The villainous cackle Echoes through my head as the spell hits me. Even though I braced, I couldn't have prepared for this. As the spell strikes me dead center in the head, every cell of my body called out in pain.

My face ripping open is the last distinguishable feeling that takes place before the very essence of my being cries out. Wet heat paint's my body as the familiar iron taste coats my mouth. One of my last screams vomits out of my mouth along with blood.

The nightmare slashes me awake as I snap up, clutching the scar slashed diagonally across my face; The one scar I can never hide. Panting heavily from both the pain of my scars and the shock of the nightmare, I fish around my nightstand. Grabbing my pocket watch from the nightstand, my breathing struggles to become normal as I look at the time.

My grogginess slows the process of reading the watch hands as I sit up onto the side of the bed. 4:17, f u c king perfect. Looking back at my pillow, I shake the idea of going back to sleep from my mind. How could anyone go back after a nightmare like that?

The ever-present pain of the Sectumsempra spell layers my body as I neatly make my bed, smoothing the comforter, the eagle on it soaring through the blank blue. More out of habit than actual need, I slide open the curtains of the window; standing opposite to where I was sitting. The low-hanging moon shines silver light as I look down on the courtyard below.

Slight anger stings in my eyes as I glare at the window next to the armchair, in the corner. I'm in the middle of the Ravenclaw Labrinth, surrounded by bookshelves. How is there a window here and why can I see out of it? The annoyance subsiding, I grab my uniform from the dresser to the left and tug my wand holster off the newel post of the bed.

Passing one of the few bookshelves on the upper area, I take a short breath of relief. It took so long to unpack everything! I remember debating on showing Penelope the Silver Shield dorm on the second day to help put all my books onto the bookshelf.

Crossing the room, I enter the blue and white, surprise, themed personal bathroom. Water pelted the scars like ice daggers. It's just one of those days. The pain lengthened the shower, for every brush of my loofah against my skin, every soap bubble that ran down my leg, even scrubbing my scalp brought phantom pain; the kind of pain only achieved through magic.

My mind begins to fixate on my reflection after leaving the shower and wrapping me with a towel. The scar given by the mysterious spell slashes cleanly from my cheek to my temple, cutting across my nose. Closing one eye, the abrupt gap of the two parts gets filled.

Try as I might, I can't seem to find anything on the spell she used. It's not in the Standard Book of Spells Grade one, two, or three. The defense for it isn't in any DADA book I've read. Just what caused you? My curiosity about the spell overpowered the voices in the back of my head telling me how much of a freak I am.

Changed into my uniform and mask in hand, I spin down the spiral staircase and open the barn doors to the study. Just because I can jump the railing of my lofted room and land without a sound or scratch doesn't mean I would. At times it's nice to take the scenic route.

Taking a seat, I take the charms homework out of the sack I've been using as a school bag and put it on the desk attached to the bookshelves. Revising the homework due next week, my mind begins to wander.

Thanks to the fix Dumbledore gave me, classes have been going well. It's frustrating being so close to perfectly casting a spell only to have to stop because I have another class and I need to save some for it.

Both History of Magic and, although I've only had the class once, Astronomy has been my two easiest classes. I'm surprised people can fall asleep when Professor Binns is lecturing.

Charms class has been going well. So far all we've been doing are readings and wand-waving exercises, but it's only been a week so far so that's to be expected. It took Professor Flitwick a little bit of time to control the class due to his squeaky voice but after his demonstrations, people have been too impressed to chatter; Unlike Professor Quirrell, who still takes a solid minute to quiet the class.

DADA hasn't been going as well. Don't get me wrong, The material has been interesting and engaging. It's just that the magic Professor Quirrell generates has a weird effect on me. At times, it makes me groggy and feeling weak or makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I start breaking into a sweat. Should I ask Madam Pomfrey about it during my next daily checkup?

Unlike DADA, in Transfiguration, we've actually left the book. Although we still spend some time in class perfecting the match to needle, AKA my biggest magic drain, we've been spending more and more time learning the Transfiguration alphabet and practicing transformation formulas.

Even though Transfiguration has been a massive magic drain, it's better than doing nothing at all like in Herbology. I've mostly been in the book or watching my partner during practical portions; thank Merlin for my vampire eyesight, without it I don't think I could see the plants because of how far my partner sits away from me. Professor Ballester has tried to get him to sit closer but hey, what can you do? Potions has been-

A tap at my window derails my train of thought as I push away from my desk and climb the stairs, eyebrows furrowed. My confusion is answered as I look to see an owl sitting on the windowsill.

That window definitely isn't normal for I can't feel the owl, not its blood, not its magic, nothing. And I would normally be able to feel that stuff from this distance.

Opening the window, the aforementioned feelings hit me as it glides in and perches on the railing with a piece of parchment in its mouth. This must be the bravest owl in the Owlery, I think in shock as it rubs its head on my hand after I grab the parchment.

Affectionately scratching it back, I turn to unravel the parchment after mouthing a thank you.

Dear Catlyn Ollivander,

Come to my office once you get this, the password is Blood-flavoured lollipops. And because I know this is where your mind will immediately go, no, you're not in trouble. I just have a few final things to help with your condition.

Delightfully, Dumbledore.