BETWEEN REVENGE AND LOVE

44

Monday, 07/10/1995

"First and foremost I shall demand you all to shut your mouths-,"  

In here it is raucous, yes the whole classroom is buzzing with voices and more voices engaged in their usual vociferous babble. My gaze roams the classroom, then drops to my feet. The sight of the ink-spattered hem of my robe elicits a sigh from me. Thank you, Glen Sherman. 

Glen managed to knock, not only his quill but his inkpot too, down to the floor a whopping four times since he sat down right across the aisle from me and is busy muttering desperate hushed attempts to clean up the disaster. he must have been perpetually ill, or at least not doing much of his homework on the cleaning charms, back when we were studying them, because no matter how often he utters his spells and swishes his wand, the ink puddle, and splashes stay right where they are. 

Averting my gaze from the black-haired boy, I return to the two small objects sitting on my table in front of me. A silvery goblet and a matching decanter, Originally intended for us to perform a Switching Spell on. The croaking of two toads somewhere in the back of the classroom confirms somebody already made other, rather unauthorized, use of them.

"Now everyone, quiet!" McGonagall calls out once again, for the approximately twentieth time now, why, I don't know, but this time it's actually kind of working. 

But to concentrate is nonetheless not feasible, no matter how deafening or dead-silent it would be. My thoughts are louder than all my classmates combined. And it's safe to say, they are not concerning Spells at the moment.  

"Silence!" Anew McGonagall's voice cuts through the now semi-silent room. Semi-silent in: Glen stopped his spell muttering and most people their conversations, but the toads are croaking undisturbed just like a bunch of people who cannot seem to keep their mouths shut. "Switching Spells," she snarls, displeased with her unconsidered expansions. And I zone out. Immediately. Deliberately. 

To get me to actively engage in her lesson she'd first had to find me a cell in my body that's got any capacity to spare for it. Four words: Monday, third period, transfiguration, the Hufflepuffs. 

Why can leached students never be reason enough to cancel a class? For me, it is plenty. Actually, there couldn't be a more legitimate reason. 

Let it be my problem if I don't follow along, my stupidity, my loss. My fault. Or if you'd like to, let it be Pansy's fault. She's got me exhausted, my every thought, my brains wrapped around her. Still my head whirls from our argument, because of the awful things she said. 

"Did you ever notice how arrogant that prat Diggory is?" 

It's the first thing Draco asks me after finally, much tardily, dashing into his seat next to me. His eyes are fixed on me as he slaps his book onto the table. 

"What?" Confused, busy letting go of Pansy and re-grasping the reality called Transfiguration, I shake my head at him. "Are we jealous?" I smirk, knowing very well it's going to upset him. We're fighting. He just doesn't know it yet. 

I decided I'm fighting everyone today. As some sort of coping mechanism. I am so mad, so mad at myself. Unhappy, with all the hatred and guilt I am feeling. I need to somehow get it all out of me. Well, at least half of it.

"What do you mean?" Profound annoyance paints itself across his sharp features. I have come to know his facial expressions, his now reproachful narrowed brows, his puckered mouth. There is nothing about his face that feels unfamiliar. "Jealous? Of Diggory? Are you alright?" 

"He's not arrogant," I shake my head, letting my eyes search the room for Cedric, "he's confident." 

"Arrogant."