If This Isn't Love (Fred Weasley Sequel)

Chapter 20 | Not Myself Today

Friday, October 20

I don't do so well in Transfiguration this morning.

I think some other students notice, too. Usually, I only have little trouble keeping up, but today, I can't even turn this fat pig into a goblet.

What am I doing wrong?

"Remember, (L/N). Swish and flick. Not the other way around," McGonagall says.

"I am swishing and flicking!" I protest, doing exactly as she says but with a little more force. The pig squeals and its head is replaced with the head of a cup. So gross.

I hear the Ravenclaws and a couple of Gryffindors snigger into their hand, but are silenced with a stern glare from McGonagall. Sometimes I'm glad this woman is so austere.

"You have to say the words correctly. Vera Verte," she says, flicking her wand correctly. The pig is successfully conjured into a goblet. A full goblet.

"I'll give you until tomorrow to learn how to change an animal into a cup," she says. The way she oversimplifies it makes me seem really dumb.

"Yes, ma'am." We're dismissed.

I try not to look at anyone else, and I ignore Alicia Spinnet's call. She rushes up to me. "If you need help I can-"

"I don't need help," I snap.

She blinks, hurt.

I sigh. "Sorry. Sometimes I'm too proud for my own good."

"It's okay," she says. "Though I don't see how pride can be such a good trait for someone who already acts more like a Slytherin than a Gryffindor."

She leaves my side and I stop walking to stare after her. Am I that Slytherin-ish? That my own House members are starting to despise me?

I have no idea. I think she is just upset I didn't want her help.

Can't I just have one day where I don't act like myself? It's just a small break, and I wish people would stop worrying. Sure, I'm not good at Transfiguration and I'm swell at Potions, but does that make me a Slytherin?

This House prejudice is getting worse than I thought.

How can I act like a Slytherin when I don't even like any of them? Snape is literally the only Slytherin that I will hang around with. Even Draco's starting to get on my nerves, although we were semi-okay last year.

It gets worse in Charms. Not only do I have trouble conjuring the right spell, the Slytherins laugh at me more for it.

I'm glad the Gryffindors are sticking out for me in this class, though.

After Charms, the only class left I have is with Gryffindors. That's why I'm tolerating History of Magic this year.

Fred apologizes for yelling at me and I do as well. I tell him I didn't mean to take it out on him, and he understands. I'm glad that's over with.

I still don't feel 100% today. Am I sick? I could be. I'm not abnormally cold or hot, so I don't suspect I have a fever. Maybe those symptoms will come later.

I go to the dungeons to talk to Snape. Maybe it's because I feel like he'll understand me. That comment Alicia made is really getting to me.

~~~~
I accidentally end up staying for over 2 hours.

I didn't mean to. He asked me to help him sort out Potions, and I gladly agreed, and then he went back out to help a student. That's when I really felt blissful.

It's so nice, being in here in this potions storage room.

Eventually, he tells me to leave, and I do. I have yet to eat dinner. When the twins ask where I've been, I say, "Oh, you know. Around the school."

I don't want to lie but I also don't want them to know I've been with Snape. They would never let me forget about it.

They leave the Great Hall early, and I'm one of the last few students left, along with Michael Corner, who's in D.A. He throws up a finger-gun and leaves.

I also leave soon after that. The hallways are pretty quiet.

I catch a glimpse of Daphne, and we lock eyes. I expect her to say something, but she turns away and walks down the opposite hallway. I shrug it off. She's probably too scared to confront me.

That night, I don't sleep well.

"Dear," Umbridge starts from beside my desk. "You're not finished. Write more."

I obey, too scared to disagree.

Why does this make her angrier? She starts to shout at me for not writing fast enough, and even though this isn't detention and I'm not even using her pen, the words cut into my skin.

I can't even read the words, they seem to change every time I try. I start to scream as the words cut away pieces of skin after skin and blood pours out. Class is never this brutal.

I wake up very early. Is it 12? 3? I can't tell.

I go back to sleep as fast as I can.

~~~~
Published 5-12-20

As much as I hate Umbridge, I absolutely adore the actress.

She's just- I don't know. I love her so much.

Anyone else agree?