When they touched down, Simma clambered down from Goody's back.
First, he looked at himself as he heaved a sigh. He felt heavy, so heavy, as though he carried the weight of the world.
First, there was his curse, which he had no idea how to amend, no clue how to seek redemption for what he had broken. Second, his parents' death, he somehow knew the murderer was still alive and might even be nearby, close enough to be watching him.
And that same person seemed to want him dead. The masks he had seen on their faces matched the one Draco had worn when he attacked him during the Wood Hint Tournament.
"It can't be Draco. No, it can't be him. Maybe he was manipulated… or poisoned to kill me."
He heaved another sigh. He had failed to kill and take vengeance for Sonja.
And now… now…
He wasn't leveling up.
"What is wrong? I should be leveling up!"
He shook himself, flexing and stretching his body, but nothing happened. Then, closing his eyes, he tapped gently into his core sigil.
