A/N if nobody else has told you today - I love you.
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Her palm was empty. She stared at it blankly; as if by looking long enough her necklace would reappear.

And then she snapped; suddenly awake.

A wicked lick of frost carved it's way down her spine, painting her grey with dread, the horrid feeling settled over her like a mist, sticky and thick against her skin.

The man behind the stall yelled at her, crying out that she'd tricked him and his greedy fingers stretched towards her, as if to try grab back the goods he'd given her. So instead Seven did what she did best; she ran.

She bolted between the narrow stalls, shoving past people and patrons as her eyes caught sight of something that caused the connection to click in her mind. Her sudden flight had spooked someone in the crowd, who in turn began to barrel down the narrow street ahead of her.

And in their hand she caught a glint of emerald light.

Maybe the necklace had been more magic than Seven had ever initially known, or maybe it was just that something entirely primal had taken over her, but she locked onto the hooded figure as a horribly hot fury overcame her. She let it fuel her, and her fingers curled around her wand, tearing it from her side and sending a vile shade of violet after the silhouette.

They did not turn as they blocked her attack, and in turn throwing an explosion of amber back her way. The spell missed, instead colliding with the beam of one of the wooden stalls. Fire exploded, the force of it throwing people to the ground and engulfing the stall, sending people clambering and screaming like insects from a lit match. Seven stumbled, but didn't fall, slowed by the effort it took to avoid the fallen bodies that scattered across the street like some sort of macabre mannequins.

  Dodging the downed had cost her a few precious seconds, allowing the figure to slip from the market and into the maze of winding backstreets. But Seven did not stop, following the direction she knew them to have taken.

  A curve of crimson light almost knocked her sideways as she rounded a corner, but she threw herself to the floor just in time to avoid the curse.

  The hooded figure stood with their back against the brick wall, a dead-end. A wicked smile danced across Seven's tongue as she called, "It's over. Give it back and I might let you keep your tongue."

  She stepped closer, wand raised, and the figure kept their wand raised too, pointed at her face. A horrid feeling pressed at the back of her mind, something was off. Though their face was covered by the hood, shrouded in a thick cloak of darkness, Seven could've sworn there was something familiar about the figure.
  Maybe it was the way they held their wand, or the faintest whisper of pale hair that had managed to come free —

  "Wait! — Stop!"

  But it was too late. They had already disappeared with a loud crack by the time Seven's freezing spell could slam against the bare bricks. Apparation, a skill few and far between in this age.
  A skill many people, including Seven herself, would kill for. After the war, after Voldemort had taken over and divided the land, one of the many ways he controlled the population was by placing anti-apparation spells on all the districts. The only people still able to apparate were either Sins or one of the few rebels strong enough and smart enough to surpass the enchantment.

  "Fuck!" She shouted, even more frustrated at the sound of her own cry being echoed back at her. " — Fuck!" She kicked the brick wall, part of her hoping it would fall away and reveal some great secret, much like the wall she'd fallen into back in Lust. But much to her dismay it stayed sturdy and steady.

  "Seven!"

  She span round, wand raised and ready.

  "Woah — woah it's only me!" Bill panted, his face bright red from running. "The market's a total mess back there, you went completely overboard."

  "It wasn't me, it was..." she turned back to stare at the wall as if by some miracle the hooded figure may have reappeared.

  Bill's breaths were short and shallow as leaned against the wall for support, "Yeah, yeah, hooded thief — I saw, but still," His soft brows knit together, "Why go after him?"

  "Because he stole my necklace you idiot — why else do you think?" Seven glared, the answer seeming entirely obvious but Bill only frowned further, speaking slowly, "Yes, but, you were selling it anyways — in fact you'd already sold it, if anyone it should've been that old man chasing after them. We'd already got the galleons, so why would you care?" Then he mumbled, "Seems like a waste of energy if you ask me..."

  Seven opened her mouth, ready to argue but faltered. The realisation settled on her tongue like a bitter taste, one so thick that when she tried to swallow it down, it coated her throat and made her hoarse. She didn't know... Bill was entirely right, why had she ran after the thief without hesitation or thought of her own self-preservation?

  She told herself it was because it was one of the few objects that had managed to ignite a memory within her, though deep down, she knew the connection was greater than that, she just didn't yet know how.

  That same thought weighed upon her for hours after, even as Bill remarked that Navy's den was near and they passed the sign for Archer's street. It wasn't until Bill stopped dead that Seven looked up. "What's wrong?"

  "Something's wrong..."

  And coming to her senses Seven felt it too. Maybe it was the stale scent of the air, and the eery lack of a breeze that had alerted Bill to the change. Or maybe it was the sudden silence. No birds. No wind. Nothing. Not even the far off whirring and clanking of factory machinery that was inescapable in Sloth, no matter where you went.

  This was the kind of quiet that ate up noise like a starved creature, the kind that echoed in Seven's ears like static and pressed on her chest, making it hard to breathe. The kind of silence that was deafening... "Do you hear that?" She whispered, as if afraid to shatter the soundless blanket that enveloped them. Her eyes darted about the ugly grey street, no different than any other in Sloth, yet still something was certainly not right here.

  "No." Bill breathed. And that was the point exactly. They both realised it as the same time, the enchantment placed on the air around them, a deafening spell just like the one Seven and Draco had used on Gluttony's room in Lust, but they only realised the danger that came with it a moment too late.

  It was true what they said; silence was deadly.

  "Run!" Seven tried to yell before the quiet overcame her too, reaching aside to grab Bill's arm but he had already fallen to the floor, his legs bound by a curse. He cried out to her, she could see it as his lips moved, forming around the words, except no sound came from them.

  Seven turned in horror to run, knowing that their deafness was not an accident but an attack, but instead as she turned she only found darkness as a bag was roughly thrown over her head and arms wrapped around her waist.

  She hasn't heard their attackers coming, — didn't even realise they were right behind them until it was already too late. In an instant her wand was wrenched from her palm, and she could feel herself being dragged back despite her thrashing like a wounded animal.

  These were not Crawlers. And though the realisation should've eased her raging fear, it did not. If anything it only made her feel more afraid.

  She felt powerless, kicking and screaming only for her throat to close up around the sound, swallowing the wretched sound.

  Rough hands found her neck, pressing into all the places that caused her lungs to fail and her head to grow heavy. Her fighting slowly slowed, until eventually, she stopped entirely; as she fell into the welcoming arms of unconsciousness.

***
Bro can Seven catch a break pls
— also me : lol no <3