/𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒\ [𝒔. 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌]

𝟑.𝟡.𝟣

"I lean to you, numb as a fossil. tell me I'm here." ~ Sylvia Plath

~march 1974~

It was rare that Artemis didn't pay attention in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Usually, it was her favorite. She'd sit perfectly attentive, taking in every word Professor Bones was saying and writing careful notes. Today, however, the blank page of her notebook stayed blank. Her quill lay untouched on her desk and Artemis didn't seem to take in a word Bones was saying about werewolves. Under her desk, one of her hands was clutching a crumpled piece of paper and the other was digging its nails deep into her leg.

She'd gotten the letter at breakfast and luckily had had the sense to leave the Great Hall to read it. Uncle Gregory's words made her grind her teeth and fidget with discomfort and frustration. It was like he wrote merely to taunt her.

"The monthly transformation of a werewolf was extremely painful if untreated and is usually preceded and succeeded by a few days of pallor and ill health," Bones was saying, his eyes scanning his class and landing on Artemis, who was staring down at her desk with blank eyes. "The werewolf could display irritation towards friends... despondency towards things they may usually care about... and may become hostile towards those who are close to them in that time of each month."

The words kept replaying in Artemis's head. "Your mum asked if we could send a letter for her, but we didn't want a muggle tampering with our owl. Never know what their sort is going to do." and "We heard Percy's finally doing the right thing and making connections with the right people. At least one of you isn't a disgusting mudblood. Shame he wasn't the one to stay with us," were just a few highlights from a horrible, stomach-twisting letter that made Artemis want to punch a wall.

"Alright, well, we only have a few minutes left," Bones said with a sigh, still watching Artemis closely. "Write me an essay on the traits of lycanthropy for Monday and have a nice weekend everyone." The bell rang. "Miss Blake, a word?"

Artemis snapped to attention. She hadn't heard a word Professor Bones had said until just then. "Ahhh, sure," she said, and met him at his desk.

When she got there, Bones propped his elbows on the table and gave her a quizzical stare. "Are you alright?" he asked at last.

Artemis was taken aback. "Yeah, I- ah- I'm okay."

"You seemed upset about something all class and I didn't see you take any notes."

"Oh, I'll read the textbook this weekend and I can borrow Lily's notes," Artemis apologized quickly. "Sorry, I just... stayed up too late last night. I'm really tired."

Bones sat back in his seat, unsure whether to believe her or not. "Alright then," he said slowly. "But if there's ever anything you need to talk about, you can come to me."

Artemis almost broke down crying right there. She knew she could never actually go to her professor with her problems, but the fact that he cared enough to tell her that made all of the emotions she'd been pushing down all day surface. She swallowed hard and nodded. "Thanks, Professor."