୨୧━━━♞ # ! CH. THREE THE SCARS ( ꜰɪꜰᴛʜ ʏᴇᴀʀ ) — October
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THE CATCHY TUNE OF LEE SEUNG CHUL's "GIRLS' GENERATION" PLAYED AT LOW VOLUME.
Although muggle devices were otherwise looked down upon at Hogwarts (something about magical inadequacy), Juno wouldn't dare part from her portable cassette player. It was old, a hand me down of her father, but she cherished it regardless, especially in situations like these (when she just wanted to think and feel some short-lived peace of mind).
There were still a few hours till sunset, and the beginning of autumn ushered in a cool evening where the sky hung ominously between shades of blue and grey. The Clock Tower Courtyard was always empty around this time of day, and it served the perfect opportunity to slip away for a few moments.
As the chorus swelled over her headphones, Juno took the time to curiously examine the back of her hand while the courtyard's chill nipped at her freshly ripped skin.
I must not tell lies.
It was almost masochistic of her, but she couldn't help flexing her hand to watch specks of red bubble from the words. Detention with Umbridge was torturous and difficult (the Rage threatening to bubble over at any moment), but no matter, it was better her than her brother.
October was always difficult for Achilles.
He'd gotten into a fight ("If you're going to whisper loud enough for me to hear, you might as well just say it to my face, you meandering oafs!"), and although, he was usually the calmer of the two, they still shared the same blood, the same anger.
"I heard you took the fall for your brother."
Juno didn't have to look up to know it was Ron. The two had fallen into a strange lull since the beginning of the term, toeing the line between like and dislike (at least, from her end, it's what she told herself).
"I've no clue what you mean. I'm the one who hexed Adrian Pucey," she said without a beat of hesitation. "Sent him straight to the Infirmary with more boils on his face than skin for saying vile things about my family. Madam Pomfrey, bless the woman, has her hands full right now because of me."
"Isn't he a Seventh Year?"
"Right, Ron, because my track record has clearly shown that age is the limiting factor in who my victims are."
The tape had finished, the last song stopped, leaving nothing but static in her ears.
When Juno's eyes finally flitted to Ron, she saw his cheeks had darkened with embarrassment, his freckles blending into his skin. Flashes of what happened in Third Year had no doubt come to mind, and Juno could likely decipher the line of thought connecting in his head.
