Behind the Hatred

Where are you? Where I always am at 8pm on a Wednesday night. And you? You know where I am. Fucking detention. Oh dear. Naughty girl. You utter bastard. Couldn’t you have got me out…

Delilah was dressed within thirty seconds, her blouse half-buttoned and her jeans twisted around her still damp legs, but then she wheeled helplessly around the room, utterly unable to think straight. She snatched up the…

Delilah had been descending for so long when she reached the bottom of the ladder that she had almost forgotten what she was doing, repeating the same numbing motion of hand under hand and foot…

Later, Delilah’s memories of the rest of that terrible day had a montage-like quality, jumping from one scene to the next with no in-between, like a children’s story. She’d stumbled out of the house and…

Severus Snape stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest and watched the headmaster approach across the lawn from the castle gates. Even if there had been any students on the grounds it would have…

There was something peaceful, Delilah thought, about being bound from neck to ankle. Resistance was futile. After the continuous, furious struggle of the last couple of days, it was almost a relief. She floated head-first…