𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧.

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CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN

the art of being okay



OVER THE NEXT few days, Betty avoided as many Gryffindors as she could, hoping that round glasses wouldn't be glinting under their uniforms. In doing so, Peter, Sirius and Remus were also avoided. She hurried from her classes to the Great Hall and the Hufflepuff common room, no longer stopping to talk with people in the halls and forgetting about parties that she'd been invited to. Her books piled up as she made a home for herself on the couches, buried in ink and parchment, as she had been for the past six years. The moon grew as the time ticked on, her papers were scratched out and her friends shot her worried looks.

After a long and vague chat with Freddie Abbott, she'd gotten him to switch rounds with her so, with any luck, she could avoid James entirely.

Aisling started to join her at the couches, her nose in a book, as she ignored people saying that Peter was asking for her at the door to the common room. Betty took no notice as her head swirled with the chemistry of potion making.

Day by day, Aisling sat by the fire, clutching the same letter, whose paper was starting to weather despite it being new. She stumbled through her work, only getting half the answers right, but moving through it as her thoughts distracted her.

"Could you . . . um help me with this?" Aisling asked as she bit the inside of her cheek. Betty nodded and leaned forward, reading through the instructions that Aisling had been given. Her eyes darted along the words.

"Well, it's simple, you just—"

"I just . . . don't get it." Defeat laced Aisling's voice. "I've tried and . . ."

Betty's eyebrows crinkled as she looked up. Her body filled with molten lava as her gut screamed at her. "What's going on?"

"That's the point!" Aisling huffed. "I don't get a bloody word of what this is saying—" She launched a smile onto her face that glittered and gleamed with all of the sparkle of the usual Aisling Khan.

"No not that," Betty shook her head, tilting it slightly. "What's going on with you? You're off."

Aisling paused as her glitter started to fall. "You could always see right through me couldn't you?" Betty furrowed her eyebrows as her eyes locked onto Aisling. She didn't say anything, letting the space gape, awaiting for Aisling's response. "I really don't need to bother you with it. I'll just talk to Philippa or Peter. I know you've been focused on school and marks and everything—"

"School's . . . the most important thing." There was uncertainty in the undertones of her voice. As if Betty almost didn't believe herself anymore. Even though it was a phrase that was familiar to her tongue, it wasn't said with the same fire or authority as it had in the past. Her voice wavered and she almost couldn't complete it.

LONG STORY SHORT, james potterWhere stories live. Discover now