The Mudblood

Chapter 59 : Year 4

"So you don't have detention with Malfoy, then?" Ginny Weasley prompted from the other side of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. After that horrible session of D.A.D.A yesterday, I'd skipped Herbology completely and went back to the Slytherin dungeons to curl up in my bed and sleep. I didn't wake up until this morning, and even then I hadn't talked to any of my roommates.

"Nope," I replied simply, my eyes on the letter I was writing. I'd just finished writing one to Garren, and I was currently wrapping up the final sentence of Evan's. Next I'd move onto Lyle's, which was usually the longest.

"But you do have detention with Umbridge," Ginny clarified, her eyes on me.

"Yup," I replied dryly, tapping my quill impatiently on the table. I couldn't decide whether to end this note with an "I love you" or "Stop dating that ho Astoria."

"Good morning, Lainey," Hermione greeted stiffly as she took a seat next to Ginny.

I barely looked up at her I replied with a dull, "Hey."

"Where's Ron and Harry?" Ginny asked as I finally decided just to sign my name on Evan's letter without any last remarks.

"Working on homework, I assume," Hermione replied breezily. "I told Harry that you'll be in detention with him tonight, Lainey. Seemed to lift his spirits a smidge... He does have detention all week, though... I do wish you two wouldn't get in so much trouble."

"You started that fight in class yesterday," I grumbled. "I only finished it."

Hermione sighed, eyeing me sympathetically. "What did Malfoy try to give you detention for? Being Muggle-born?"

I rolled my eyes bitterly. "Basically. I tried to attack him on the train because he was being a little git—the usual. Umbridge got me out of that one, though. S'pose she can't be any worse than Malfoy, can she?"

Hermione bit her lip with uncertainty. "I wouldn't be so sure, Lainey."

I let out a breath, picking up a new piece of parchment to start Lyle's letter. "Whatever, I can handle myself..." I muttered before I began to scribble:

Lyle, I hope things are well at the apartment. Madam Malkin should have sent my final payment to you guys, though you might need to have Remus go to Gringotts and convert it to Muggle money for you. I'm not sure that Madam Malkin is bright enough to have done that herself. Hope you're enjoying school. Evan told me you finally destroyed his putrid pickle jar. Nice one.
I'm at Hogwarts now, as you wanted. Nothing much to report here, though I have received two detentions already. Shouldn't surprise you, I suppose.
School's a lemon, life's a lemon.
Love you,
Lainey

I looked up from my letter to see that Fred Weasley was now seated to my right, peering over my shoulder. Startled, I jumped to the side, slamming into Seamus Finnigan. 

"Don't do that," he snapped. "You shouldn't even be sitting here—I don't want to get on Umbridge's bad side by being seen near you—" 

"Oh hush up, Seamus," Ginny injected harshly. "Not everyone wants to smarm up to that old toad like you." 

Grumbling, Seamus turned back to the conversation he was having with Dean Thomas, who was giving Ginny an amused smile. 

"What does, 'School's a lemon, life's a lemon' mean?" Fred questioned, reading over my letter to Lyle. 

I shrugged, glancing down at the obscure line I'd written. "Who knows? I'm sure you could find some philosophical meaning behind it." 

Fred's eyebrows crept upward as he eyed me skeptically. "Think it's time for you to see a therapist, Fitz."