November Snow

n i n e t e e n

The next day, it felt weird to see everything back to normal. No more worries about Sirius, or Pettigrew, just school and homework. And at the mention of homework, the chaotic days had me forgotten all the Potions and Transfiguration essays. I was screwed.

I sat at the very end of the Slytherin table at breakfast, trying to speed-writing the two at-least-twelve-inches-long parchments of essays before I had to go to classes. I looked like a mess, to be honest. My long, dark-colored hair was tied up loosely in a messy ponytail, I had dark eye bags for all those days not being able to sleep because of worrying, my tie was loose, my cloak was out of place, and while I was writing, I kept biting off pieces of toast I kept near my teeth with my lips.

"You look like what they called a lunatic." Juliette said when sat down in front of me, waving at Zabini at the other end of the table.

"Pleasure..." I mumbled, writing the last few sentences of my Transfiguration essay before literally throwing it aside and turning to my Potions homework.

Maybe I would become the old lady with many wrinkles at the age of fifteen, like she said before. But now, that didn't matter. I would have time to care about how I look at the age of fifteen if I survived this morning with Transfiguration and Potions in the waiting line. Sometimes I wondered if Snape was trying to be cruel when he made us do so much homework. Or maybe he wasn't trying. Not cool.

"You should've had them done three nights before, Nov." Juliette said.

"You'll never know..." I scribbled the last few letters "And... Done! Merlin, save my poor hands!"

"I think it should be 'Merlin, save my looks today!'. Girl you look hideously messy." She munched on her toast.

"I don't eat well and sleep well like you, Jules." I cracked my knuckles.

"You made me sound like a pig." She said.

"Exactly." I rolled up my parchments and put them on my books along with my quill.

This morning, Harry was sitting with Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. They looked extremely happy, now that everything was already solved. Though, there was one thing that was sad to all of us. Harry just told me earlier that Professor Lupin was no longer our Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. He had resigned, saying that parents might not want a werewolf to be their children's teacher. Though Hermione did tell us that in the Muggle world, there were teenagers dreaming of dating a werewolf or a vampire. Weird, unless you want to have your head bitten off on a full moon or loosing some blood every night. But I must admit, if any werewolf could be like Professor Lupin, this world would be much a better place.

The post would be coming in any second, I realized that thanked to the exciting look on Juliette's face. Her mother often sent her a nice letter with some beautiful hand-knitted scarf, sweater or a gorgeous hat she made. These were times I envied her with all the family love.

All the paper-wrapped packages flew through the window and landed in front of the receivers' faces. I looked over to the Gryffindor table, seeing them surrounding Harry with his long package. He unwrapped the paper, I caught the glimpse of a broomstick inside. Then, he picked something up, his face brightened up and he turned around, looking at me, his hand waving it. A hippogriff's feather.

A barn owl dropped a package in front of me, knocking my cranberry pie off the plate, much to both my surprise and dismay. I looked at Juliette who was just as eye-widened as I was. I slowly unwrapped the paper, revealing a small bottle of treating ointment, a piece of paper folded in four, a silver ring with the carved letter A on it and a hippogriff feather. I unfolded the piece of paper and read the carefully written letter.

That ring was your mother's. She gave it to me as a gift before I had to go to that place. It's yours now.

I know how much you hate going to the hospital wing. Your fear for those kinds of places is one thing I will never forget. Use the ointment, or else your ankle is going to get even more swollen. And stop being so reckless, you scare me doing so.

He didn't sign his letter, but I knew only Sirius Black would write to me like this. I silently laughed at the words as I closed the piece of paper and picked up the ring, shoving the ointment bottle into my pocket. The ring was intricately made, a curvy A carved to the front. On the inside was a small carved sentence:

Family, friends and dignity.

My mother used to say those three were the things coming first in our list of priorities. I could still remember those nights my mother told me how brave her father was going against the Death Eaters before being killed by Voldemort himself.

"A for Avery?" Juliette asked.

"Yeah." I said "It belonged to my mother."

"It's beautiful." She said.

"It is." I smiled.

I left her at the breakfast table with her tea obsession and walked to Transfiguration earlier than everyone. As I stood outside, I met Malfoy walking down the hallway all by himself. He sent a smirk my way and I gladly returned one.

"I guess it's one of those rare days you look awful." He said.

"Don't worry, Malfoy, I will continue to look fabulous tomorrow." I flicked my hair playfully.

"Right." He said, looking around then back at me "Hey, look, I'm sorry for whatever I did that made you angry that day."

"Woah woah hold on." I acted dramatically "Did you, Draco Malfoy, just say sorry? Now that's new. Is the sky going to fall today?"

"I really hate being in your company." He said.

"I hate being in yours as well." I smirked as he walked past me.

Few minutes later, I was tackled by none other than the Weasley twins. George wrapped his arm around my shoulders and Fred messed with my already-messy hair.

"We still have some Filibuster fireworks." Fred said.

"And ton-tongue toffee." George said.

"Want to prank Malfoy again?" They asked in union.

"No, not him today." I said "How about Crabbe and Goyle? They are perfect subjects for the toffee."

"Great. After lunch?" Fred asked.

"Totally." I laughed.

What can I say? It was nice this way.