𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒕 ➵ schlattbur

VII / occhiolism

occhiolism

n.

 the awareness of your small perspective in the grand vastness of the universe

(A/N THANK YOU ALL FOR THE SUPPORT!!!!!!!!! I REALLY APPRECIATE ALL THE COMMENTS AND VOTES AND IT MAKES ME REALLY HAPPY YOU GUYS ENJOY MY BOOK :D ps to the one person who keeps making deez nuts jokes you have a special place in my heart and in hell /j)

wilbur

//

click, clack.

front, back, front, back, front, back, front, back.

the sound of his shoes filled the wall, the constant reminder that he was late. mcgonagall didn't really care about late students, but wilbur wasn't in the mood for another talking to, especially after the blame going straight to jonathan. it was kind of crushing honestly, but in the spark of the moment wilbur couldn't really think of anything else. it was stupid really, but god the way he stared— it hurt. and it wasn't anything he should be so upset about, it was flattering honestly but in a half dazed half shocked state all he could stutter out when asked was drugs, and then anxiously look at the door. it's not like some kids here haven't done then at least once. wilbur doubted jonathan did though. he'd have to apologize to jonathan later, if he could muster up the guts to talk to him, that is.

he sighed, readjusting his bag and looking up, heading towards the door for transfiguration. thankfully, it was a more laid back class than usual, but mcgonagall still looked up to stare when he walked in— which made him unbelievably nervous- but then she dismissed it quickly and went back to addressing the class. wilbur took a seat next to niki again, half listening to the older professor.

she'd continued on, saying something about continuing their ongoing project, just to continue the notes. guess it was a good thing to sit next to niki, as they were partners for the project.

niki pulled out a packet of paper, along with a feather and cup— then scribbled some things onto the packet. wilbur stared at her neat handwriting, watching as it slipped around his messy writing, what he wrote nearly unrecognizable compared to hers. it was kind of embarrassing honestly.

"wilbur? you okay?"

"mm, yeah, sorry." he said, readjusting and grabbing his wand. "your, um, handwriting looks nice," he added quietly, taking the feather and adjusting it slightly and staring at it.

niki nodded, telling him to try and replicate the cup as best as he could. it seemed simple enough.

it wasn't.

wilbur stared at the feather, wand in hand and yet somehow, literally nothing happened. he repeated the steps again and....

almost...?

the feather morphed into a strange glass shape, barely making out the cup. then it returned back to being a feather.

niki let out a small giggle, to which wilbur lightly elbowed her, laughing quietly.

it was silent between the pair, but niki piped up after a minute or two.

"oh, by the way, the picnic is tomorrow. can you still make it?"

wilbur blinked, quickly remembering the conversation they had earlier this morning. "yeah, should be," he paused for a second, memory a little hazy. "with tommy, techno and minx right?"

niki nodded. "i think it's good to be adding new people to our friend group."

wilbur smiled lightly. niki was always trying to be inclusive, and he never missed it when she went out of her way to do something. it was a great trait to have, and wilbur admired it greatly.

"i never got to ask, why minx?"

niki went quiet for a second.

"her personality kind of fits with everyone. she's loud and chaotic but she's kind." it seemed like niki would go on, but she didn't.

a comfortable silence surrounded the pair.

the feather returned to its original state, and niki scribbled a few things onto the packet, then took over with the cup, flicking her wand and turning it into a perfect replica of the feather. wilbur stared, a bit embarrassed by how terrible he'd done. he didn't like using his wand at all, especially after the accident, it was just a force of habit. mcgonagall and the other teachers were all perfectly aware of this, and often excused him of using it, which is why he was so fond of potions. he was still given good grades on projects which required them, just for different reasons. it was embarrassing though, having other classmates notice it too. being one of the top students of the grade and having to manage not being able to use a wand that well anymore leads people to assume, uh, things.

although, he was getting a little better, day by day. even if it was forced. wilbur'd been scared about jacobs, hearing things about his brutal teaching methods. he'd picked up the wand the first class he had, feeling the pressure on him specifically. wilbur'd assumed the teachers told him about the accident. wilbur stayed on his good side, always masking it ad rustiness or a small mistake in the spell's pronunciation. at first wilbur didn't think he could get away with it that well, but jacobs eventually just saw it as clumsiness and let on. wilbur tried staying off his bad side, but after today he was sure he'd screwed everything up for jonathan and himself.

it was embarrassing.

at least everyone was understanding about it, the teachers at least. nobody else in the school knew though, thank god. they'd done a good job covering it up, so everything should've been fine. should've. that depends if minx told anyone. only phil knew from wilbur's side, but minx could've literally told everyone with her chatty personality, but wilbur doubted it. she was kind, respected his boundaries.

that's what he liked about her.

that's why he liked niki's explanation about her so much.

mcgonagall cleared her throat, calling out that class was over and to just leave the materials where they were. niki took the paper with her, and wilbur stuffed his wand back into his bag with a shaky hand, getting up to leave but stopping. shaking hand?

he couldn't help but freeze for a second, noticing that he was still scared.

his arm hurt for a second.

breathe, wilbur.

breathe.

--

NO IMPORTANT AUTHORS NOTE TODAY! be sure to drink and eat!!!!!