Harry Potter's Twin Sister

Distress

Spending her entire weekend just working on potions meant that by the time Monday morning and rolled around, her brain was fried. Looking into the mirror before breakfast, she felt waves of despair wash over her. Even after spending hours on testing out her potions and writing down new ideas, she had been unable to make any breakthroughs, and she felt like she was just wasting her time and effort.

She had thought that with her potion making skills, creating new beauty products would be easy as pie, but the entire process took more than just time; Hazel estimated that she would have to spend three weeks minimum on developing just one product. After all, not only did she need to create new formulas, but she had to test out those formulas and then figure out what worked and what didn't. Her method of trial-and-error meant that she had no actual control over her own success, and so she did the one thing that she had been desperately trying to avoid. She talked to her father.

"Why do you want to know about such things?" he had asked in a monotone voice as he graded some sixth-year papers.

"Well, father, I just thought that it would be cool if I could create my own potions, I mean, there's so many things that I would like to do, but there just aren't potions like that available—"

"Like what?"

"Uhh—like...like a potion that makes you fly! I mean, broomsticks are cool and all, but they're also pretty dangerous—"

"Well, then, I suggest that you read Toby Thompson's 'Never Ending Possibilities'."

He refused to elaborate any more, and Hazel became even more demotivated by the thought that she would have to study yet another book. Why can't anybody just TELL me what I need to know. Why does it always have to be this big THING that takes up all my time?

She moodily entered the Great Hall for breakfast, and made a beeline for the croissants. Across the room sat Hermione, who didn't look as bothered about their fight as Hazel had hoped. Instead of moping around and snapping at people irritably (like Hazel was), Hermione had her head stuck in a big book. 

Typical.

Hazel's stomach lurched and she felt violently sick for ten seconds straight. Oh, no, she thought,oh, God no, please, lord, please, not today.

But God must have been busy with something else, because Hazels's prayers went unheard. She made her way to the bathroom as fast as she could without looking like a lunatic, and, just her luck, Angelo was making his way to her. On the one day when she looked like absolute shit and felt like it too, this beautiful boy decided to approach her. Well, sorry Angelo, but she had more important things to do.

She managed to duck behind a group of excited third-years and sneak into the girl's bathroom that was just down the hallway. There was only one other person in there.

"Hi, Luna" said a distressed Hazel.

"Hello, Hazel" said Luna. "You don't look so good. Are you on your period?"

"Spot on."

"Oh, dear, do you need some tampons?" asked Luna, pulling out a handful from her bag.

"Oh my god, thank you," groaned Hazel as she rushed to grab one, locking herself in one of the stalls.

"I'm going to leave now" said Luna in an airy voice from the other side of the stall door.

Hazel could hear the Ravenclaw singing to herself softly as she traipsed back to the corridor, and Hazel was glad to have a few seconds to herself. Struggling with the tampons, she cursed herself out for not asking Luna for pads instead.