How Not To Fall For A Dragon
Chapter 72 72- Do Not Walk Into The Room Alone
LEXI
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After breakfast, Blake walks me to my potions class, and I am absolutely dreading it. The feeling starts well before we reach the corridor. It sits heavy in my chest, a dull pressure that tightens with every step closer. Potions might actually be the worst part of my day now. Not because of the subject itself, because honestly, it should be fascinating. It’s structured. Logical. Hands–on. Everything I usually enjoy. But the room attached to it feels hostile in a way I can’t ignore. I’m sure Blake has noticed that I don’t enjoy the class. I’m quieter on the way there. Less talkative. My hand tightens around his arm without me really meaning to. But he also knows my opinions about cutting classes, so he hasn’t tried to convince me to skip it. Not even once. Although… If he knew why I hated it so much, I suspect he’d try a lot harder. That’s exactly why I haven’t told him. I don’t want him to know how miserable everyone is making me. I don’t want him to hear about the looks, the notes, the bumps that are just a little too deliberate to be accidents. Because he’d blame himself. And it isn’t his fault. They don’t hate me because of who he is. They hate me because of who I am, someone who refused to hate him for no good reason. Someone who didn’t flinch. Someone who didn’t play along. I don’t regret that choice. Not even for a second. That doesn’t mean I enjoy the consequences. When we reach the classroom, Blake hesitates. I can tell he doesn’t want to leave. He lingers for half a heartbeat too long before turning away, glancing back once as he heads off toward his own class. I watch him go. And then I don’t move. I stand there in the hallway, bag hanging from my shoulder, staring at the classroom door like it might bite me. I’m not quite ready to go in yet. I just need a moment to breathe without eyes on me. The door swings open a little wider. Slow, careful and inviting. The Academy. When I still don’t move, it swings open and closed a few times, gentle but persistent, like it’s nudging me forward. Encouraging. I sigh, rubbing a hand
over my face.
“I know. Just… Give me a minute. I don’t want to go in and deal with everyone yet. I’ll go in just before it starts.” I murmur quietly. I keep my voice low, barely above a whisper, glancing down the hallway in case anyone is listening. A picture on the nearby wall tilts
slightly. Just enough to notice. I blink at it. The angle is wrong now, like someone cocked their head in confusion. And for a strange
moment, I get the very real impression that the Academy is trying to understand me. I think the Academy is… Puzzled.
“You’ve seen them, I’m sure…” I continue softly, words spilling out now that I’ve started.
“The writing on my desk. People bumping into me. Messing with my notes. Posting mean things on the SCRI app.” I swallow and it feels
weirdly loud.
“People are harassing me. I’d rather not give them more time to do it.” I finish. The picture snaps back into place. Perfectly straight. A window down the hall rattles sharply, hard enough to make me flinch. The sound is angry. Protective. Not subtle at all.
“Thanks, I’m pretty mad at them too.” I say quietly, a small, surprised smile tugging at my mouth despite everything. It occurs to me then that maybe the Academy is only just realising what’s happening. Even though it’s sentient, it doesn’t think like a person. It probably doesn’t understand social cruelty, or how slow, deliberate, and quiet it can be. Maybe it needed it explained. That’s… Interesting. I glance down at my phone. Only a couple of minutes until class starts. I really should go in. I let out another heavy sigh and step toward the door. It swings shut directly in my face. I stop short.
“Uh… I need to go to class.” I point out, staring at it. I grab the handle and tug. It doesn’t budge. Another student walks past, shooting me a dirty look before shoving the door open and slipping inside. The moment they’re through, the door swings shut again with a decisive click, and this time, it refuses to move at all. I tug again. Nothing.
“You can’t just keep me out of class.” I insist, frustration creeping into my voice now.
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Chapter 72 72- Do Not Walk Into The Room Alone
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“That won’t fix the problem.” I argue. The door remains solid. Unyielding. Like it’s made a decision. I drop my hand and stare at it, heart
thudding a little faster. Okay. Clearly… I need a better plan.
I stand in the hallway staring at the door for another minute, time ticking by in my head. I’m seriously worried I’m going to be late for
class. Every second that passes makes the knot in my stomach tighten a little more. I don’t want to draw attention to myself by arriving
late on top of everything else. I just need… Something. Anything. There’s a soft thud behind me. I whirl around, heart jumping, and stare.
A textbook. It’s sitting in the middle of the hallway, neatly placed like someone very deliberately set it there and stepped back to admire
their work. It definitely wasn’t there a second ago. I walk over and pick it up. Oh. The book with the repelling spells. I stare down at it,
then glance back at the stubbornly closed classroom door.
“I haven’t really had a chance to try these yet. What if I mess it up?” I point out. The book flips open in my hands. By itself. It opens to a
page that is very obviously highlighted, the spell text neatly marked like someone wanted to make very sure I didn’t miss it. I lean closer,
reading. It looks like some kind of barrier spell. Not invisible exactly, more like a subtle layer. A bouncy one? So if anything hits me… It
hits back. I swallow.
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“This doesn’t exactly look basic…” I mutter. And it’s true. It’s not one of the first spells in the book. It’s detailed. Precise. Careful about
wording and intent. The kind of spell that expects the caster to actually know what they’re doing.
“Well, I guess I can TRY. But if it doesn’t work, I still need to go to class.” I say slowly. No response. Right. Fine. I slide down the wall and
sit on the floor, back pressed against the cool stone so I can rest the book in my lap properly. I take a second just to breathe. Then I read
the instructions carefully. Once. Then again. Slower this time. I still haven’t really been successful at any spells yet. Not fully. Not cleanly.
But… I have been getting closer every time. And right now, I’m pretty motivated. I close my eyes and work my way through the calming exercises Blake taught me, focusing on the steady, solid feel of the Academy wall against my back. The stone is cool and grounding, like it’s anchoring me in place. My breathing evens out. The familiar hum of magic stirs, tentative but responsive. Once I have it under control, I open my eyes and follow the steps. The spell wants me to spread the magic over the area I want the barrier to cover, then push it out just a little, past my skin. I pause, thinking. The book suggests visualisation, so I reach for something that makes sense. A bubble? No, that feels wrong. Too loose and too easily popped. A balloon? Yeah, that works better. Like when you stretch a balloon over something and it clings tightly, shaping itself to whatever it’s covering. I picture my magic inflating outward in a big, soft sphere, then slowly drawing back in until it hugs me exactly where I want it. I focus hard, willing the magic to cooperate. Inflate. Then gently pull it in. I feel a faint resistance, like pushing against something elastic, and then settling. The magic locks into place, quiet and steady, I hold it there as long as I can, then carefully let go. I blink. I have no idea if it worked. Maybe? My skin looks… Different. Just barely. Like there’s the faintest shimmer, something you’d miss if you weren’t looking for it. Okay. Test time. I lift my hand and, very scientifically, try to high- five the wall. My hand bounces back. I didn’t even feel the stone. I stare at my fingers, heart jumping. Then I reach out again, slower this
time, and gently touch the wall. No resistance. No bounce. Just normal contact,
“Oh…” I breathe. I think… I think that means it worked. My first successful spell! A laugh bubbles up before I can stop it, excitement surging through me so fast my chest feels tight. I did it. I actually did it. I can’t wait to tell Blake. I have no idea how I’m going to explain this whole situation, but that’s a problem for later. I glance back down at the book, suddenly nervous again, and skim the section on duration. ‘Depends on how much magic you put into it.‘ That’s… Wildly unhelpful. I have absolutely no idea how to measure that. But I did my best. And right now, that’s going to have to be enough. I get to my feet, dust myself off, and square my shoulders.
“Now can I go to class?” I grumble.
“It’s a miracle Professor Matthews hasn’t shown up yet. I am definitely late.” I add. This time, the door swings open smoothly in front of
- Finally!
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
