ALEXITHYMIA
(n.) the inability to describe one's own emotions.
❝How can you forgive me so quick?❞
❝Cause it's you, Flo. You may be a pain, and a bit of a prat but it's just you, and that's okay❞
A story where the sarcastic Ravenclaw reluctantly fa...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Flo had truely had the worst nights sleep in her life. The guilt inside of the girl was just slowly eating her up, and it had only been a single day since her quarrel with Fred.
The weather was dreary, with rain presumed to be falling upon Hogwarts all week which only seemed to make Florence's mood worse somehow. Her robes were crinkled, and her hair slightly greasy— but all this was nothing compared to the prominent bags underneath the girl's eyes; no one would have guessed they had appeared overnight. Flo's classes passed by quickly which was nothing too strange seeing as the girl did enjoy her time in those, but it was meal times that seemed to drag on the longest.
It was lunch time at Hogwarts and Flo was packing it. Fearing the reaction she would be getting from her friends and the Weasley twins, the girl took a seat next to Hermione who offered Flo a small smile; followed by matching ones from Harry and Ron— but everyone else seated in the immediate area ignored her presence, or at least that is what it looked like they were doing.
Feeling extremely awkward, she took some food from the centre of the table and piled it onto her plate not daring to look across to where she could feel the stares of Fred and George. Instead she tried to focus on the conversations happening around her, but when she realised they were just whispers about the tension coming from the group, Flo became fed up. Guilt crept in and all she could think about was how she'd totally screwed up this time. Sighing lightly, she quickly finished eating her slice of bread in her hand and stood up from the Gryffindor table, shuffling out of the Great Hall towards her common room as quickly as she could, refusing to answer to the feint calls that came from Hermione.
__
As much as the girl was desperate for things to go back to normal, four days had passed of awkward meals and little to no talk— all of which was completely by fault of her own. However it wasn't until the fifth day that Flo had actually spoken to a person during a meal time.
As Flo headed toward the ever so dreadful Great Hall for lunch, she spotted the waving figure of Professor Mcgonagall who beckoned the girl toward her office from down the hallway. The woman had her black robe wrapped tightly around her, the signature hat resting atop her head. Smiling at the older woman, Flo quickly walked over to her and gave her a wider grin, stepping into the warm and comfortable room. There was just something about the woman that was soothing to the girl.
Professor Mcgonagall's office was a beautiful sight for newcomers and regulars alike. It was quite a large room but it was well decorated with the walls a dark brown colour and pictures galore. There were grey drapes around the windows and dark oak furniture all around— even the fireplace was on, which allowed the room to have a rich orange glow throughout. The woman took a seat at her desk as Flo followed suit sitting in one of the three placed at the front, her mind content for the first time in a while. Glancing at the picture frames on the desk Florence noticed a white one which had the moving photo of a younger Mcgonagall and eleven-year-old Flo; something which the older woman cherished deeply- even if she never mentioned it to anyone.
