Defining Secrets // Ron Weasley

Chapter Twenty Four: Bright Colours and A Comfortable Rush

Elise's POV:

The walk to class was quiet. I'm not sure I liked that.

The usual craziness had lulled since the ball, despite Christmas holidays starting this weekend. So I didn't trust the almost empty atmosphere. Until I looked down at my watch and realised I was late. Crap.

Another thing I hated more than unpredictability was being late. I didn't particularly like being stared at when I entered in after everybody else. Especially when it came with a snarky remark from a classmate, or even the Professor - it depended on whether I had Potions or not.

Although I found Snape tolerated me better than he did any other Ravenclaw. Even he had never questioned my ability at Potions. But that didn't mean he was lenient.

Racing around a corner, I pulled out my class schedule from my pocket. My eyes scanned the paper. My mind went - crap, again.

By the time I made it to the door I was panting. One hand gripped the wall while the other clutched the forming stitch in my stomach. Maybe if I was more athletic then I wouldn't have too much trouble. But that would mean actually having to exercise.

I swung the door open, prepared to pamper Professor Snape's with an apology and make a b line for my desk. But I seemed to forget how many people's eyes could easily make me freeze.

The words died on my lips before I could so much as inhale. Snape stared expectantly at me, eyebrow raised and boney finger tapping against his wand.

"No babbling explanation this time, Miss Hazelwood?"

A couple snickers from Slytherins, pitiful looks from others. They knew about the ball, I realised. I had to lean against the wall for a second to stomach it.

They knew... all of it.

My eyes scanned across the crowd in hopes that I was wrong. Perhaps that they knew nothing. But at a time I needed to be comforted, my eyes found somebody else. I didn't want anybody's eyes watching me - especially not hers.

Hermione didn't gawk at me like everybody else, but the look was almost the same. Saddened eyes, awkward shifting and maybe some fiddling.

"Elise Hazelwood! Do you have nothing to say for yourself?" Snape's angry snap deafened the haze around me.

I was suddenly very aware of the fact that I had been standing there without a word while everybody just looked at me.

Today, I decided to be brave. But I'd been brave. Every single day. I had to be. And now that it was all gone, I didn't have a shred of ability left in me.

I ran from the room.

It was all crumbling around me, myself included. And I was too wrapped up in keeping steady to care about Snape's orders that rang from behind me.

Everything was back on an axis – my head spinning and my stomach clenching. Everytime I looked at Hermione, I felt sick. Stricken with tears and painful memories. It drew me back to a place in time I didn't want to see again. But did my brain listen?

I didn't have time to laugh at the absurdity until I saw a reflection stare back at me. I had passed a glass window on my race down the hallway. There was nothing else behind it. Nothing but myself.