Lost Memories

vii. comfort food

Over the last few weeks, life at Hogwarts has gotten harder and harder. What started as a wonderful experience was turning into a dreadful time. The classes aren't too bad as Herbology and Arithmancy didn't require much wand work, so I excelled quite well. But Charms and Transfiguration seemed much harder to hide my obvious secret. Thankfully Professors Flitwick and McGonagall were extremely understanding and always found a way to get me out of doing magic. And not to mention Professor Moody's class; always so dark and dreary, I hated that subject.

But people started to notice my lack of magic and created rumours about me. I tried to not allow their petty lies and insults to get to me, but it did. Especially when it caused the entire school population to give me weird looks.

"Look at the Muggleborn; more muggle than a witch, don'cha think?" Pansy laughed, elbowing her friends. Stupid Slytherin.

"We call know you're in love with me, Pansy, no need to be rude to hide it," I rolled my eyes.

Pansy's face reddened at my comment, while people around her snickered. "As if! A mudblood like you, never."

"Whatever you say," I mused and continued walking down the corridor.

"Pull out your wand," she shouted as I walked away. "Pull out your wand and prove you're a witch, duel me."

Fear slowly snaked its way through my mind at her comment, but I shrugged in response, turning to look at her, "I don't need to use magic to fight with you. Put your wand away and we can fight without weapons."

"Weak," Pansy scoffed and her friends laughed alongside her.

"And there's a reason you were put in Slytherin and not Ravenclaw– you're more impulsive than you are smart. Only idiots are that hasty. It doesn't take someone with eyes to see that." Not listening to her response, I turned away and went down the stairs towards the Quidditch Field.

Since it was my last class of the day, I spent my spare period outside enjoying the view. Thankfully, it wasn't raining and I was allowed to lay down on the grass, in the middle of the field. Due to the fact that there was no reason to train for Quidditch— because of the Tournament— no one was on the field. I took advantage of the peace and quiet.

Following my arrival at Hogwarts, there hasn't been a time I've been alone. Whether I was researching about house-elves with Hermione or helping the two boys with their assignments, I was always with them. Although I enjoy my time with the three of them, I didn't feel connected with them. I didn't know whether it was because they'd built their own friendship over the last three years or because I know everything about them, we didn't fully connect. I felt like a fourth wheel, per se.

"Uh, are you okay?" a voice called out.

Propping myself up on my elbows, I looked up to meet the stare of a grey-eyed boy. "Uh, for the most part."

"Hm, what are you doing out here... alone... in the middle of the pitch?" he asked. From the look of his attire, he looked like a Quidditch player. He had a yellow and black checkered uniform on, held a large broom and wooden box.

"Relaxing?" I blurted, more like a question than an answer. "Are you a Quidditch player?"

"What gave it away? The broom or the box?"

"Your funny-looking pants," I hummed.

"Hey! My 'funny-looking pants' are perfectly normal. They're my practice gear," he mimicked me.

"I like you, you're funny."

"Thank you. Your accent is funny," he pointed out.

"Hm, where do you think I'm from?"