(Y/N) would rather be in the bed Severus' had in his chambers with him in it but that was too much to ask from him. It's not that he didn't want that but someone could easily catch them or figure out that she was staying with him. That would not look good for his reputation and for hers too. She sighed and rolled over on her side after endlessly staring at the ceiling, noticing every little detail and line. Trying to sleep was out of the question because (Y/N) was trying for almost three hours! She didn't fall asleep quickly under other circumstances either but this was longer than usual.

Her eyes met the bright light from her digital clock. 4 in the night and (Y/N) was starving. She couldn't blame anyone but herself, she picked at her food the entire time in the Great Hall. In a sort of trance, still thinking about what kind of things could go wrong, she slipped out of her bed and made her way out of her dorm.

The craving for food grew with the second. (Y/N) was going to the kitchen to get some cereal with milk. She hoped on her life that she wouldn't encounter a perfect or even worse, one of the professors that were on night duty. The stomach attached to her body growled, the one sound she hated. It reminded her of the times at home when she was a child and her father refused to give her something to eat. (Y/N) was too young to make her own food or to even secretly grab something out of one of the cabinets that were out of her reach.

If she did manage to get something, (Y/N)s dad always caught her with his smart tactics which only lead to harsher punishments so she learned to be a good girl and listen to the abusive man called her father.

The worst part about the cycle she was stuck in at home is that (Y/N)'s mother never did anything about it and just watched as her only daughter got beaten. Sometimes the words and beatings became too much to handle and (Y/N) would express her own anger in different ways such as hurting herself, mostly cutting with something sharp that was the closest object laying around.

The first time she did it was when her father broke the mirror in their bathroom after (Y/N) burnt the dinner she made. He left her on the bathroom floor crying with little pieces of mirror around her. Her hands were sweaty with the thought of even thinking about doing such a thing to herself and after a few minutes of struggling to hold herself back, she picked it up anyways. The memories were a bit blurry but the feelings (Y/N) had that day remained. She still knew exactly how she felt when her hands grabbed a piece of sharp mirror in her hands while it came closer to her skin with shaking hands. The vision was blurred through the tears that rolled down her face.

The glass made a smooth line of red blood, dripping down her arm. It burned, she had to admit. But it wasn't the kind that (Y/N) disliked. No, it was the kind that she loved to feel. Her surroundings were completely gone and the only thing (Y/N) focused on was the liquid that dripped off her arm on the bathroom tiles. Her feelings were gone and didn't come back until the stinging and dripping was over and when she opened her eyes again, (Y/N) was back in the world she despised.

Her thought got interrupted when she heard footsteps from behind her. Her heart was pounding against her chest with the feeling it was almost exploding. Her stomach turned in a knot and she froze.

(Y/N) waited in her freezing stand for someone to call her name and deduct house points or even detention. But it stayed silent. (Y/N) turned her head to see who was the one walking in these late hours but she saw no one. Maybe she was just a lucky bastard and the person who almost caught her, didn't notice her in the dark and went the other way.

Just when she was about to walk the way to the kitchen once again, her surroundings went black.