Author’s note: I would like to stress out that this is based on my dream. It’s not accurately it but, I just thought it’d be better off if it was a ‘writer’s potential’. My dreams usually tend to unveil as the time grows but it seems that this one wasn’t as informative as I hope it would be when I woke up. So, I grasped on to the plot on how my dream flowed and twist it up with my visions and imagination. I will not follow the structure of the books; so, I can do whatever I wish to do with this story. Hey, that’s just me.
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“Hufflepuff!” announced the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts proudly. It was old, worn out but still full of wisdom and enthusiasm. Well, at least I think it has. First year of Hogwarts. I know I’m a true-blood. My parents gave me away to my aunt and uncle to raise. They were ordinary people. I’m quite a fond of my cousins, aunt and uncle. There was a reason they sent me to my uncle and aunt; they had important doings when I was just about four years old. I couldn’t recall of their looks, voice or touch. But, I know I loved them.
My trip to Hogwarts was absolutely magical (I know, I know, it truly was. No pun intended). My grandmother, whom is the greatest witch in my book from my mother’s side, brought me to Diagon Alley to buy my school supplies. I picked out a barn owl from Eeylops Owl Emporium & Magical Menagerie. It was so fun! I gave her a nice pewter dome-shaped cage for her. It seems like she’s all snug and happy in her new cage! My grandmother suggested that I should name her Athena.
“Athena is the wisest, most intelligent yet most beautiful Goddess figure of the Greek gods. I would scratch out Aphrodite: she isn’t much of a wise Goddess. Your little barn owl is wise, intelligent and still beautiful, isn’t she, dear?”
“Grandma, are you saying I should name her Athena?”
“Sure! If it’s too grown-up for her, you and call her Thena.”
We strolled down the bumpy stone streets of Diagon Alley, happily carrying my bags, suitcases and backpack. My owl hooted at the sight of many wizards, witches and warlocks lingering around the busy streets. I saw kids around my age with a guardian or parent walking around to the same stores I did.
Next stop was Potage’s Cauldron Shop—to get my cauldron. My grandmother recommended me to have a copper size 2 cauldron. It’s lighter and faster to brew with. It was costly though. I’m glad my grandmother lives in Hogsmeade; she was the one who fetched me from the Hogwarts Express at 9 ¾ at the King’s Cross Station. She was a tall but plump, wrinkly-faced and grey haired woman. Her eyes sparkle most of the time; especially when she smiles or is in deep thought.
I got all my essentials for my academics at Flourish & Blotts. I checked out some books; surprisingly there was a section filled with myths and studies about muggles and their world. Funny, I thought I was one for almost my whole childhood. Thank goodness for my parents—not that I don’t like being a muggle. All the magic stories my kindergarten teacher used to tell my class about was all true and now they will never know about the Wizarding world’s existence.
After that, we went to the Apothecary to get some ingredients for my potion’s class. I’m super stoked to meet students at Hogwarts like me! My grandmother told me grand tales about the castle and its founders. Whichever House I get sorted in, I don’t care, at least I’m surrounded by good people; I’m satisfied with that. Lastly, we headed down to Diagon Alley’s South Side to get my wand at Ollivander’s. I really love my wand. It’s 12 ½ inches, the core is from dragon and it is made from alder. Ollivander told me that it is a super swishy wand and I was lucky enough that the wand picked me. I was totally enchanted.
I was in the Great Hall with thousands of others. On a high platform was a panel of great professors. A man with a long beard almost down to his abdomen, small framed circular glasses with a purple robe and pointy hat to match was sitting on the highest chair in between all of the other professors. He welcomed us—first years—with arms open greatly. His old and wilted voice gave me an impression that I belonged here; and nowhere else in this retched world of ours. His name was the Great Professor Albus Dumbledore. The others were: Professor McGonagall, Professor Quirrel, Professor Slughorn, Professor Plank, Professor Flitwick, Professor Snape, Professor Trelawney, and Professor Sprout. A tall and big giant with fuzzy, tangled hair sat at the end of the panel. I believe he is known by the name Hagrid. Those were some of the professors I know. I kinda think Professor Flitwick’s cute because of his cute size. He seems nice too! A couple of girls whispered behind my back about an absent professor. She apparently teaches us how to fly on our broomsticks later this year: Professor Hooch or Madam Hooch (whichever is fine).
Before we could start feasting, there were four very long benches with tables and on them were food that I can’t even start naming! Floating sticks of candles shone the Great Hall with greatness and pride. The Great Hall has no ceiling; it gave off a great aura to the Great Hall. I stood by a girl I met on the train; and we shared our jellybeans, cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs.
Professor McGonagall was holding a long scroll of the names of all the first years. We were lined up in two neat columns just in front of a small platform just a few feet away from the panel of professors. On the platform was Professor McGonagall, a tall stool and the famous Sorting Hat.
Professor McGonagall gracefully called out the surnames then last names of first-years. Mine was up. All eyes were on me. Professor Dumbledore gave me a grin as he lowered his glasses. My knees were trembling; I tried to stop my hands shaking by curling them up and holding them by my side. My build was heating up underneath my sweater and shirt. My skirt wasn’t helping with my trembling knees. Right then I swore I was going to be petrified.
I sat cautiously on the tall stool while Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on me. My lips were pursed hard, my fingers played with my skirt’s pleats and my legs swung back and forth.
“You’re nervous, aren’t you, honey?” the Sorting Hat spoke slyly.
“A little.”
“Oh heavens! I’m on your head! ‘Ey, listen ‘eryone! She’s nervous!”
The Great Hall shook with laughter, except for me, I tried to smile but I ended up smiling and laughing sheepishly as if I intended to be nervous.
“Silence, silence now!” Professor McGonagall yelled, “Let the sorting—begin!”
The Great Hall was filled with stillness. Everyone at the benches and the batch of first-years were attentive. Why, I couldn’t see much, the Sorting Hat covered most of my view.
“Hmm, this one’s a tough one, ‘ey.” I felt his velvety fabric move on my head. I figure he was scrunching his eyes and trying to think of the best House to put me in.
“Oh, I hope it’s some House good,” I thought and prayed hard.
“I know you want somewhere good, dearie, just wait for a minute,” the Sorting Hat spoke again. He was less rough this time.
A moment of silence broke out. I gulped so many times; I lost count. Can it read my mind? What if I don’t like the House I’ve been put in? His decision is final, I know, that’s what Professor McGonagall explained. Right, keep calm.
“Ravenclaw!” the Sorting Hat announced loud and proud.
The bench on my left side rejoiced. Hats were thrown in the air, students jumped on their seats. They were screaming, yelling, celebrating. Sparks came out of the ends of various wands owned by the big group of students in Ravenclaw.
“Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you’ve a ready mind, where those of wit and learning will always find their kind,” the Sorting Hat sang loudly. It was almost like dropping rocks on top of my my head.
Professor McGonagall then gracefully took off the hat from my head and I drifted off to the Ravenclaw table—where I was greeted and welcomed like royalty and became a fond of the fourth years. They braided my hair, smiled at me a lot and asked me witty questions involving the courses I’ll be taking soon. I was loved with such great awe from everyone; I’ve never felt so compassionate before. I met a fellow fourth-year named Luna. Luna’s an odd character—maybe that’s why she got sorted into Ravenclaw. I can’t imagine her being sorted into any other House, honestly. She has a dreamy voice; very dreamy in fact. It makes me feel like I was meant to be in Ravenclaw, I guess? Well, I don’t know the traits to be a Ravenclaw but I’m pretty happy with what I am sorted in. The Sorting Hat did a pretty good job. I have a feeling I’m really gonna like it here.
“Wait until you see our common room,” said a Chinese looking girl known with the name Cho. Her voice, also, was quite dreamy.
“Slytherin!” another round of applause exploded. A boy just about my height, black hair, glimmers in his eyes. He wore a smirk; undressing the Great Hall with his eyes. Then it came to me. It was weird. I thought there was something. It was…captivating.
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“I’m Prefect Robert Hillard. I’m delighted to welcome all of you to the Ravenclaw house! Pick up your speed now.” Robert, the well known Ravenclaw House Prefect led us up the stairs. I will add that they’re not just stairs, the ones in the middle move from time to time; if we’re lucky enough, it won’t move while it is still connected to the next fleet of stairs. It’s a complicated thing. Many portraits, which astonishingly move a lot and some have attitudes, hung onto the walls of the humungous place. I don’t know what to call it. Hey, I’m new here.
Batches of the other three Houses were scattered around in double files, like us, following their respectful House Prefects. I saw the Slytherin House first; Hufflepuff House and I seem to be missing the Gryffindor House. Huh, maybe their common room are in a different wing of the castle. Rather, we seem to be going in a totally different wing. And so I have been told that the Slytherin House’s common room and dormitory are located around the dungeon? Must be musty and wet all the time perhaps. I hope they exterminated all the pests down there. Would be very horrible indeed to stay down there especially around a thousand year old dungeon, yes?
“All of you first-years should know that our emblem is the eagle. It soars where others cannot climb. Well, at least that’s what Rowena says—the founder of Ravenclaw. Without wishing to boast, this is the House where the cleverest witches and wizards live. Like Lockhart?”
“You mean the Gilderoy Lockhart?” a brunette girl in the crowd asked.
“Yep,” his accent flailed in the air. “The famous writer of Hogsmeade.”
We kept our pace quick and steady. Echoing footsteps padded on the almost-porcelain floors from the Great Stairs. I swear, everything about Hogwarts here is great.
“Moving on. Our founder, Rowena Ravenclaw prized learning. Unlike the other houses, who all have concealed entrances to their common rooms, we don’t need one. The door to our common room lies at the top of a tall, winding staircase which is right here.” Robert stopped. Steady rhythm halted.
He continued, “It has no handle, but an enchanted bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. This is the knocker, guys.”
Robert pulled out a rag and then wiped the prized knocker. The door was just an ordinary kind. But, don’t be fooled my appearances. That’s what Robert said.
“When you rap on the door,” he rapped on the door, the knocker gave a series of thumps, and “this knocker here will ask you a question.”
“Which came first, the phoenix, or the flame?” a grand, wise, old voice asked. A voice that echoed the place. Wasn’t too loud of a voice to be heard by anyone except for us. The Great Stairs was quiet once again; everyone was in their respective common rooms. I didn’t hear a single peep from inside; not even from the portraits.
“Does anyone know the answer?”
Short, stubby first-years were around me—exchanged glances and shrugs. I was in the centre of the crowd and was not bothered. I couldn’t figure it out myself. I remember this question except instead of a phoenix and the flame; it was a chicken and the egg. My aunt plays trick questions on me. There was no logical answer of proof of that question. Neither the chicken or the egg came first.
A faithful first-year gave it a shot, “The flame?”
“Whoops, sorry, buddy, not the answer.”
Robert was leaning on the door, holding the knocker in his fingers. “Anyone else? Last try! Come on, you guys are in Ravenclaw! You’re not sorted here for nothing, you know.” he taunted all of us—in a nice way of course.
I shyly raised my hand in the air slowly. The kids gasped at my courage and bravery to answer the most complicated (plus impossible) question in the entire universe; and heck, I felt I was in the centre of the universe completely.
“The little missy over there,” he pointed to me.
“You can’t answer that,” I shook my head.
“Why, yes, you can. The knocker doesn’t feat unreasonably.”
“No, I mean, you can’t answer the question. There is no start for the cycle.”
“You know what kid,” he approached me, crouched down on his toes, “I like you already. You’re bloody brilliant.” He gave me a pat on the head like as if I was his younger sister.
“The circle has no beginning.”
The door unfolded itself slowly. Inside was a dark empty spiral fleet of stairs. A fleet of stairs that I know I will fall on (hopefully not). My suitcases, bags and backpack were my weights.
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Third year flew by so quickly. The Summers I spent together at my grandmother’s cottages; rearing the owls, toads and the cats of hers. We churned our own butter to sell at The Leaky Cauldron. A bar that is famous for their butter beer. I’m gonna say it out and not regret it: best beverage ever. I loved the soapiness of the drink. I became close friends with some of my fellow Ravenclaws especially Luna and Cho. I think they’re nice people. I’m quite a fond of Ravenclaw. The four-poster beds are covered in sky blue silk eiderdowns. I love the sound of the wind whistling around the windows; it’s so relaxing at night to hear. I love the view in the day: the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch pitch and the Herbology gardens. At night, the view of the sky from the Ravenclaw Tower is absolutely breath-taking. There’s no need to go all the way up to the Astronomy Tower at all. I share a bedroom with two girls; a redhead and brunette (mostly the Ravenclaws here are made up of brunettes): Priscilla and Amelia. Nice girls. During Christmas, I stay for a wee bit in Hogwarts to celebrate with my Ravenclaws. Professor Filtwick would bake divine assorted cupcakes, place them on a grand chestnut table and make them do a little dance. They literally dance in my mouth.
I took Charms over the three years; top student—not just because Professor Filtwick is the head of Ravenclaw; it’s because he is a marvellous professor. He makes things so clearly. I remember my first Charm; Wingardium Leviosa. I use that spell to pass around plates of food in the Great Hall when we’re feasting, especially doing Halloween—the plates grow twice as heavy. Anyways, I also took Astronomy. It’s pretty fascinating. The Slytherin kid (yeah, the kid who gave an intriguing glance at me during the sorting) has been…Creepy. A little. I don’t know how to explain it—it’s just creepy (not rudely creepy though. Just creepy).
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“Are you coming?” Priscilla tugged on my sweater.
“Oh, y-yeah. Give me a sec,” I slammed shut my journal. I’m in my fourth year. That means someone has to take the name in the Goblet of Fire. I don’t know who but…I wouldn’t care. I mean, I’m not eligible. Oh and whoever guessed, the Slytherin kid who’s freaking me out got into the Slytherin Quidditch Team. I attend the games, of course to support the Ravenclaw team. Some days when I prefer to study at the Quidditch field, I can find the Sytherin Team practising. Slytherin kid would be in the middle of flying, fly by me, give a wave and smile then crash into one of them pillars. Poor guy. I would just occasionally take notice and do what is polite: wave and smile back. I think the Slytherins are not bad but I guess the Slytherin kid minus down the awkward tension.
I grasped onto my books for Transfiguration class with Professor McGonagall. Have I mentioned that the Slytherin kid takes all the classes I took too? It’s funny.
“So, Yule Ball after the Triwizard Tournament. Plans?”
“No plans. Gonna play chess with some of the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team guys.”
“Really? Not going to the Yule Ball? But everyone’s going!”
“Too lazy,” I responded with a witty snort.
“Why not the Slytherin kid you’ve been talking a heap lately?”
“No way!” I pushed her out of line. “Never.”
“You know, never is ever with an ‘n’ in front of it.”
“Oh shut up,” I mocked her.
Transfiguration started off a little…Crazy. Didn’t know Professor McGonagall was some tabby cat or something. We learned how to transform goblets into cute and fat birds. I was fluent with my wand; so, there wasn’t so much hurdles to struggle to jump over. I remember Robert saying, “Ravenclaws learn quickly.” Or maybe I’m just good pals with my wand (vice versa).
Then we headed onto Potion class. Where it is Professor Snape’s sanctuary of…I don’t know. Professor Snape’s scary. He gives you dirty looks as if he is about to behead some fluffy rabbit. Slytherin kid was sitting a few tables away from me, just across the aisle. While I was paying close attention to Professor Snape’s insipid ramblings about the potion ingredients, something light and pointy edged poked my hair.
It was a folded up paper, rather tiny. Hm. I picked it up from the floor without making such an eye-catcher for Professor Snape. Thank goodness the room is super gloomy.
“Would you go to the Yule Ball with me?”
I turned my back for a minute to see who sent it. And just a few tables away was the smiling Slytherin kid waving at me. I figure it’s him. I folded back the tiny piece of paper, following its creases.
After class, I tried to avoid the Slytherin kid. I was way freaked out. Besides, I’m swamped with homework. And I haven’t finished up my book: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland. My due date is next week. I hate upsetting the librarian; mostly, I hate the librarian getting upset.
“Hey!” a friendly tap on my shoulder came out of thin air. Oh please, don’t be the Slytherin kid, please, please, please, please.
I turned around with a slightly uneasy smile, eyes shut tightly, “Hey!” After that, I flipped my eyes open. It’s him. No. Why me.
“Did you get my note?”
He’s taller than I expected he would be. Huh. Funny. He has pretty eyes. Okay, that’s a pretty normal thing to say. I like his smile. Not so bad. I like his voice.
“Yeah!” I scooped it out from the pages of my Transfiguration notebook pages. I analyzed his attire as I showed him the little folded up piece of paper. Slytherin emblem on the robe underneath was a dress shirt and a silver and green striped tie. His hair looks attractive.
“So? Would you?” he craned his head closer to me. Have I always been this short?
“Umm…”
“Oh! That’s okay, you can take your time!” his eyes burned with colour.
I stood there humming my ‘umm’-s. He was watching me humming pathetically.
“You need any help with those books?” he lazily swung his arm as he pointed to the books I was carrying in my arms.
“Uh…No, I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow or tonight for dinner or something. Bye.” I turned, walked away and blended into the crowd walking down the stairs.
Well, he’s a nice guy. What am I gonna do? I’ve never been asked out, dated or anything like that. That’s it, I’m going to shower and finish up my homework and book at the Quidditch Pitch. Hopefully it’ll soothe down my traumatic thoughts.
“Quidditch Pitch again?” Padma Patil asked whilst she was painting her nails.
“Yeah, need to get my mind off of things.” I rushed out the door without even saying goodbye.
I’m pretty sure no one is using the Quidditch Pitch today. It’s a Wednesday, let’s hope it’s still open. I jogged all the way to the Quidditch Pitch from the Hogwarts grounds. Did I mention how much I love the outdoors? The cool feel of the grass, though it was starting to snow a wee bit. I like a dash of snowflakes all tangled up in my hair and resting on my shoulders—I really don’t mind them.
As I walked on in, apparently, the Slytherin Quidditch Team was flying around with their fancy broomsticks. Looks like they want to do some wrapping up for this season’s training. I can understand. Then around the goal baskets, just right in front of me, it was the Slytherin kid. Oh shoot, I need to be invisible. I managed to sneak myself around the benches without being noticed. I hid behind the boards of the first row of benches; the one at the nearest exit.
I laid out the sheets of homework I have from Transfiguration, Charms and Potion on the bench. My quill hoped out from my notebook and a bottle of ink to make my quill run.
“Alright,” I whispered to myself, “Let’s get cracking.”
“HEY!”
I screamed loudly with my hands covering my face. My breathing went uneasy, my heart pounded so loud; I swore my pulse was about to burst out from my wrist.
“Sorry! Are you alright?”
My eyes peeked from the spaces between my fingers. Black swishy looking hair, glittering eyes and swoon-worthy smile.
“Don’t scare me.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he pouted.
“Everyone doesn’t mean to do things sometimes. Forgiven.”
He swooped down next to my shoulder, just almost breathing around my neck and was hoping to catch a glimpse of my work, “Hey, why did you run away earlier today?”
I ran away? More like avoiding. I fail at avoiding, don’t I? Some Ravenclaw I am.
“I-I…I just have a tight schedule to deal with.”
“Is wasting your time on Professor Snape’s work one of them?” he picked up one of my Potion homework sheets and scanned down the page.
“Give that back!” I fussed around—trying to take hold of my homework. He was fast and cunning with his broomstick.
“Ah-ah-ah, not yet. I’m not done!”
I huffed out an irritated sigh. I was very indeed annoyed.
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“Blimey. The Keeper of the Slytherin Quidditch Team asked you to the Yule Ball?!” Amelia was gaping.
“Yeah, the very annoying one.”
“Oooh, you shouldn’t call him annoying. Haven’t you heard what has been going on with him lately?” Padma touched the back of my hand. We were having a nightly conversation in the common room; lying lazily on the fat couches, curling up with the quilts draped over the couches. The fireplace was filled with burning flames of orange, red and yellow. It was a cold night in the Ravenclaw Tower.
“No, I haven’t. I barely know him.”
“Tell her, Padma,” Priscilla encouraged.
“I heard he’s this pentagon.” I was a fond of Padma’s very Indian accent. It’s quirky and very…Comforting—hey, it’s just me.
“What? Pentagon? Isn’t that a five-sided polygon?”
“Yeah, but the term ‘Pentagon’ for him means dating five girls in a week.”
“What?!” I sat up instantly. “I’m one of his Pentagon routines?!”
“Whoa, calm down. No, I don’t think so. He’s a good guy and maybe if you—“
“Give him a chance?! No. I’ll pass. I’ll just say no. No is the answer.” I stood up and walked up to my dormitory.
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“Don’t you think you’re taking this too hard on him? Come on, he’s just a boy!” Amelia and Padma tried snapping me out of this madness that I’m swirling in. We were making our way to Divination class taught by Professor Trelawney. I was about to tell the Slytherin kid I’m not going to the Yule Ball with or without him.
“‘Just a boy’ doesn’t quite fit his agenda.” I raced into the Divination classroom. It was still homeroom, which gives me plenty of time to put some thought into my speeches. Sure, yeah, I like the Slytherin kid but never that way. The room was like a little theatre. The tables were stacked up in a gentle slope. Cushions were our chairs; crystal balls shone and sparkled on their stands. Just on my right, in the corner; crowded around a group of boys in Slytherin uniforms is the stupid Pentagon guy.
I stomped on the hardwood floors—away from Padma and Amelia, “Nooo! Wait, don’t!” they softly screamed in horror.
Approaching close to his mates and him, I stood tall and stiff. My shadow hovered over them. Some of them were hanging by the table, sitting on the floor, leaning on the wall.
“Hey, Ravenclaw!” he looked up at me with shiny perfect rows of teeth. His friends turned around.
“Who’s this?” a blonde boy looked me up and down rudely.
He ignored the blonde boy, like he was mesmerized by my presence, “What’re you doing here?”
“We need to talk for a few seconds.”
“Hey, heyyyyyy, mate, good job. You nailed another one,” the boy next to him punched his arm, all impressed and swollen with pride.
“Yeahh,” the others chorused.
He stood up, and dragged me outside, away from the noisy and arrogant friends of his. His fingers ran frustratingly through his long, tamed spiky hair, “Sorry, my friends. They—“
“The Pentagon?” I cocked my eyebrow at him.
“Sorry.” His hand padded itself on the wall right next to my head, he was basically cornering me.
I decided to go straight to the point instead of nagging on about his forsaken title like I’m his girlfriend or whatever: “I can’t—“
“She can go to the Yule Ball with you!” Padma came out, shouting.
“She just can’t pick a dress,” Amelia laughed a little. Her hands were flailing due to her anxiety of the moment.
I sighed, rolled my eyes and went straight with the truth, “I can’t—“
“I know somewhere you can pick out a dress,” he offered as his head craned even closer to my face. I could smell him; eggs and bacon and buttered toast with jam. “It’s just around the South Side of Diagon Alley.”
“Umm,” I blinked my eyes rapidly, “I just—“
“No! It’s okay, we’ll take it from there,” Padma held onto his other arm. His eyes surfed to Padma.
“Right—I’ll…Just get going.” She violently dragged Amelia back into the room and left us alone.
He didn’t take his eyes off of the entrance until they got lost for good.
“Look, I know you don’t want to go to the Yule Ball with me just because I’m this ‘Pentagon’ fellow. But, I really—“
“I really don’t—“
“I’m not done yet,” his tone was harsh, unsubtle. I pursed my lips down hard, “Just one night. I’m not that bad.”
“Yes, you are,” I said, almost a snare in my words.
“No, I’m not. Ask all the girls I’ve dated—all the way from Hufflepuff to Gryffindor.”
“Oh, so what number am I? Forty? Or maybe you’ve struck faster; sixty?”
“God, why can’t you just stop being so bloody stubborn?!” he walked around in circles; about to blow his top.
“Why can’t you be bloody decent, you dirty blood wizard, you!” my arms folded up tightly against my chest; I, on the contrary, was about to blow my top first.
“Why can’t you listen for once? Stop believing all this rubbish!”
“Boy, you are definitely having kittens,” I scoffed.
“Oh really? More like you are having an enormous litter of kitten right there!” he winced repeatedly.
“Can you just accept the fact that me, girl number whatever, am not going to the Yule Ball with or without you!” I gave a shifty; he gave one back.
“That’s just sad of you; you don’t even want to attend this once in a lifetime ball—not even with someone! That is just depressing!” he yelled at my face.
Okay, now that just bloody cuts. I’m so shirty right now.
His expression relaxed down into a...Devastated expression. Our noses almost touched; eyes were interlocking through a fine wire. I felt like I was barely breathing. Eventhough the moment brought me back to years of memories right back to the second he walked down from the platform, I was about to break into tears. There was a reason that I don’t go to Balls. It reminded me of my parents a lot. And that was the most painful memory. They used to put on the music in the living room—loud and clear, and then they’d dance with me. I know what I said when I said I love them. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss them. Life gets rough sometimes, you know?
I shoved him away from my path. After that, I ran back into Divination class which was about to start any minute.
“Just so you know, Ravenclaw, I liked you,” I heard his mumble; it felt like it was intentionally for me to hear.
“Hey, we heard the entire ruckus outside, what happened?” Amelia tried to reach out to my pain.
“Nothing. I’m not going—just like I planned.”
“You want to know something about that boy, sweetheart?” Padma gave me a disappointed look.
“What’s the use. I don’t want to talk to him no more,” I blinked away from their eye-contact; across the room was a deeply depressed, dark, gloomy, frustrated Slytherin kid.
“I don’t care. You’re just gonna listen to me anyway—“she paused. I didn’t flinch. “Rumours have been going around lately for a few weeks; just before the announcement of the Champions for the Triwizard Tournament; that guy you just stirred up some useless taradiddle with actually had stopped being the Pentagon just so he can clear up the title and have you all to himself.”
“Lies,” I daggered all my might into the four letters, “Haven’t you been paying any attention? Rumours, Padma, rumours.”
“Yeah, rumours’ sources trace back to the kid himself.”
“You judge too quickly,” Amelia squeaked.
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A/N: Yes, Harry Potter, Granger and Weasley does not exist in this story. So, DAVID BE PIMPIN' IN MY DREAMS.