That night, Clementine and Isabelle stayed up until they were the only ones left in the common room. Anthony had left much earlier, raising a brow as the two girls claimed they were staying up late to 'study'.

It was very unlike either of them. In Isabelle's case, she was simply lucky because she was so smart that she did not need to study as hard as other students. Isabelle rarely stayed up late, and when she did it was certainly not for 'studying'.

Clementine barely studied as it was.

She was a straight 'A' (for average) student and she was more than okay with that. If she was to stay up late, then it would be because she was working on a painting or sketch, or she was enthralled with a book.

Seeing as neither was the case, Anthony was reasonably suspicious when he left the two alone. But he was far too tired to investigate further than a few questions. Even though he suspected they were up to something, it was the first week back and Anthony did not feel like getting wrapped up in their schemes.

"And you swear that you made this properly?" Clementine questioned as she held up one of the three vials that Isabelle had gifted her.

"It's totally fine..." Isabelle waved her off. "But you don't have to take it if you don't trust it—"

"—No, no, I definitely want it... I just want to make sure we're not about to accidentally poison ourselves..." She pursed her lips at the end. "Anthony would kill us!"

Isabelle chuckled at that. "At least we'll go out together!"

"That's not reassuring—" Clementine started only for Isabelle to pop the cork off one of her vials.

"Well then, bottoms up!"

Unsurely, Clementine popped the cork off her own vial, both girls clinking the little glass filled with a questionable purple (and slightly sparkly) substance.

As she brought the vile to her lips, she held her breath while chugging the potion. She expected that it would taste like most potions in the sense that it would be horrible; however, she was pleasantly surprised.

It was bubbly and tasted like what she imagined sunshine and rainbows to taste like. It caused her lips to curve up against her will as she drank.

Despite Isabelle's lack of a careful hand when she made the potion—she indeed brewed it perfectly. More than perfect, she would guess, as the potion immediately was effective in causing a lightness to sweep through her body.

In seconds, both girls had finished the vials, slamming it on the ground.

They were sat on the ground, on top of a soft rug at the foot of a long couch and just in front of one of the fireplaces. Snow could be seen falling through the night just outside the windows. While the brunt of the snowstorm was now finished—the white powder continued to fall delicately from the heavens.

Dopey grins lit up their faces, Clementine staring around the room in amazement. The Goldstein girl had always been able to appreciate the beauty and creativity of the Ravenclaw common room, but now there was something in her that seemed to be more awed about it than ever.

She fell over, landing on her back and staring at the ceiling that reflected the galaxy.

"Rowena created an infinity ceiling for us to appreciate and sleep under every single night. Can you believe that, Izzy? An Infinity ceiling! It's spectacular—do you think the other common rooms have ceilings like this? Perhaps we should go on a tour through the other common rooms, just to prove that ours is the best! It's so beautiful in here—I must draw it! At once..." Clementine's words started slurring as she babbled, the girl reaching into her backpack that was sitting on the couch for her sketchbook and colored quills.

Isabelle watched her friend with her own lazy grin, nodding along to every word she said.

"Yes, bestie—you draw the infinity ceiling that Rowena blessed us with..." She sighed as she fell back against the rug, crossing her legs and placing her arms behind her head as she stared at the roof which reflected a million stars.

Everything around her seemed to be spinning, as though everything was alive. It moved too slowly and too fast all at once. With every blink, her eyes felt heavier.

But despite it all, there was an odd peace that seemed to submerge her entirely. A pleasure that bounced around her mind and forced any lingering stress out of her bones. It was all simply... good... easy... relaxing... euphoric.

At that moment, Isabelle Lockley understood just why this was such a risky potion... the threat of becoming addicted to the feelings that it causes was high.

Isabelle breathed deeply, she forced her mind to focus as she remembered just why she had brewed and taken this potion. As euphoric and relaxed as this was, she could not let this moment go to waste.

It was time to try her hand at meditation, and if that was successful then it would lead to astral projection.

She had no idea what she was supposed to feel like before her soul separated itself from her body, but she prayed that she would know when the feeling was upon her

With that thought, Isabelle breathed deeply—thoughts going to the crackling fireplace as she attempted to breathe in time with the fire. She heard Clementine as her quill rapidly scratched on paper, felt the soft fur of the rug below her, and embraced the magic of the castle as she became one with it.

Her heart slowed—she mentally counted the beats per minute.

As her thoughts drifted to the numbers, her consciousness ascended until she suddenly opened her eyes and stood up.

Immediately, Isabelle noticed that she felt completely sobered up. No longer was she giggly or highly relaxed.

The next thing she noticed was how everything around had an odd tint to it, almost as though fading. Clementine was still sitting on the couch giggling and sketching the ceiling of a million stars.

At first, Isabelle thought that this was yet another failed attempt at both meditation and astral projection. Until she turned around and saw her physical body lying on the floor, eyes closed and breathing deeply.

She nearly had a heart attack.

"Merlin's balls!" She cried out in shock, jumping away from her physical body which seemed to twitch with her irritation.

Isabelle felt her soul almost get pulled back into her body from her sudden shock; however, she was quick to relax. She repeated calming mantras that she had learned in one of her grimoires.

With herself back under control, Isabelle slowly approached her body. There were signs that suggested her physical body was not asleep, but rather in a deep meditation by the stiffness of her limbs and heaviness of her breathing.

Astral projection was strange—to simply be something that was floating around. She certainly did not feel nor look like herself, not in the traditional sense at least.

Her soul looked as it always had, but then again, it was rare that a soul was ever severed from its physical being during its time alive.

Her movement was staggered at best, she moved faster than she thought possible. It took less than a thought before she was suddenly wherever she desired.

She wondered if Dumbledore had ever done anything like this... that was all it took before her being was suddenly in the presence of Dumbledore in his office, lurking over his shoulder. He was writing something on a parchment—an official-looking document for Wizengamot.

His head snapped up, and his blue eyes seemed to pierce straight to her soul (which by all accounts should be invisible and unnoticeable by anyone in the physical realm). Isabelle stayed no longer, not when Fawkes suddenly let out a loud squawk and her thoughts raced to the Potions Master.

She briefly wondered if he had noticed anything amiss from his personal store.

Isabelle's soul was in the Potion's classroom a millisecond later.

Severus Snape was huffing in irritation, he tore through his classroom like a tornado—dark robes whipping behind him with every sharp movement. His lips were pulled into a permanent frown, wand drawn as he flashed it through every cupboard.

Isabelle was not sure how she knew, but she did. She knew that Snape knew—Snape knew that someone had broken into his classroom, that someone had stolen from and brewed a potion illegally.

He was cursing as he tried to find any hint of who had been there, alas, Professor Snape found that he could not. And he did not understand how it was possible for a student to cover their magical traces so well.

And just as Snape turned and faced the direction of Isabelle's being—she was snapped back and away.

Isabelle flew through the lives of other people faster than she could blink. She was suddenly next to Professor Moody, standing behind him as the Professor was hunched over a huge metal trunk.

It was open, and while Isabelle could not see past him to glance at what was inside, she vaguely heard what sounded like talking. She was gone in the next second.

Suddenly, she was in the Slytherin common room.

Draco Malfoy sat by himself on the couch—there was a book open on the table in front of him. However, in his hands was a familiar piece of parchment, the boy rubbing his chin as he read through the contents.

Isabelle was looking over his shoulder, and she realized that he was reading one of the letters she had left him.

She was unable to ponder on it anymore for she was suddenly tugged away from the Slytherin common room and now stood next to Anthony in the Ravenclaw boys' dormitories. He sat on his bed, a dim light coming from his wand as he read through a book.

In the next second, Isabelle was back in the Ravenclaw common room, standing next to Clementine as she frantically drew the charmed ceiling. It was almost finished, a rough sketch of blacks and greys but beautiful nonetheless.

She turned to her physical being which was still lying on the floor, arms and legs crossed as her eyes remained closed and breathing deeply. Isabelle's hair was splayed around her in deep dark curls of raven—and the lightest halo of light seemed to engulf her being.

A sign that while she was physically present, everything that made her up inside was currently gone.

Isabelle could do no more as her soul was suddenly pulled back inside her body.

The girl's eyes snapped open and she jumped up with a gasp. Her breathing was frantic as she looked around, fists clenched by her side as she returned to the land of the living.

She rolled onto her hands and knees, heaving before she proceeded to release the contents of her stomach all over the rug. Clementine side-eyed her friend momentarily as she finished the sketch of the stars.

However, in the next second, the drunken Clementine started to draw Isabelle as she heaved on the floor.

Isabelle could not guess how long she had spent throwing up, her stomach jumping as she finished—rolling onto her side and groaning. Even in her high state, she made sure that she was lying far away from the puddle of vomit.

She was shivering, curling into a ball as she experienced the effects of both the potion and her first time performing astral projection. To have her soul leave her body and be slammed back in for the first time was rarely a pleasant experience for anyone.

Clementine sighed as she lay on the couch, clutching her sketchbook as she closed her eyes. Her breathing deepened as sleep hit her and pulled her under faster than she had ever been able to fall asleep. And it was a sleep of the most peace and lightness she had ever felt, no dreams as the potion worked its magic providing nothing but easy rest.

★✯☆★✯☆★

As Isabelle slept—she dreamed of a wedding.

A wedding where she walked down an aisle of fire in a long white dress, a veil covering her face so she could not see anything. But she could feel the dead flowers in her hands, the way the dead grass crunched under her feet and the fire that warmed her from the sides.

When she made it to the altar, someone pulled the veil up and over her face.

An older but equally as handsome Draco Malfoy stared back at her. His grey eyes were alight, white hair slicked back and blending with his snowy suit. He smiled at her, grasping her hand and bringing it up.

Isabelle stared at him in wonder: her handsome groom who she loved more than anything in this forsaken world.

She winced as he suddenly cut into her index finger with his nail, a small incision that drew red blood to the surface. Her eyebrows furrowed as she stared at her finger, watching as Draco brought it closer to his mouth.

A very old-fashioned and traditional wizarding wedding ceremony.

"May we never part, even after death..." He breathed before finally bringing her bleeding finger into his mouth and swirling his warm tongue around the incision.

And with that, everything around them burst into flames.

𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞,
𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞,
𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫,
𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞...