To Be So Lonely

13

"Is it true she hasn't spoken to anyone since?"

"Yeah," one of the Slytherin third years said before twirling a knot of red spaghetti on his fork and spoon. "Even past her birthday."

"Didn't even go to the Quidditch match no matter how much Davis insisted."

"What does Nott say?" Another asked as he drank his pumpkin juice.

The boy speaking shrugged and let out an incoherent sound.

"I don't think she's said much to either. She's mostly been keeping to herself," Blaise whispered as the four Slytherin boys kept a close eye on the dark-haired girl that was quietly eating just a couple of seats away from them.

"Do you think she's-" Crabbe began his voice on edge.
"Plotting something?" Goyle finished for him. "She hasn't been taking any clients either."

"I'm sure that must be especially hard on you," Malfoy sneered at his goons nastily. To this day he wasn't really sure if either of them actually knew how to read or write. He did know that the two had been almost singlehandedly funding Nel's underground empire of illicit homework and class notes.
At this point she must've amassed at least a small fortune; he couldn't help but wonder just what she was possibly saving it for. She certainly hadn't splurged on that fancy quill back at Hogsmeade.

They all once again turned to look at her in an indiscrete fashion. Nel could feel their eyes on her. This irritated her to no end. She fought the urge to tell them to take a picture or go flog themselves. It was then that their gazes shifted when they saw no other than Harry Potter turning around from the Gryffindor table. They all shot daggers at him.

"Hey," Harry greeted. She raised her head and looked at him with a dead expression on her face before taking a bite from a bread roll.

The humiliation from last week's incident wasn't what was keeping Elowen in an emotionally shut down mode. There were more than a handful of problems in Nel Saintday's hands at the moment that had seniority over whatever bullying the other Slytherins had done to her. She still couldn't summon a Patronus or even think of one particularly joyous memory to use with the charm. The many Dementors in the area were beginning to become a problem once knocking her out on way to Herbology class. Not to mention Professor Snape's "emotional control lessons" we're going terrible.

Also, what did he know about controlling his emotions to begin with? As far as anybody knew Professor Snape was a heartless, fowl nosed, prick.

Worst of all was that she still didn't know who had dropped her off at the abbey. She doubted if Malfoy had even known from the start. She felt foolish for even thinking he could've been a friend to her. She tried not to remember how nice he had been that day at Hogsmeade or how lovely his music was. Just like her Patronus, this memory had been corrupted too, it wasn't real.

It wasn't him.

"Did you hear that Professor Lupin is back?" Harry asked attempting to start a conversation. She said nothing in return and stared at him with a blank expression.

"I'll see you tonight then?" He asked. She was quiet for a moment before speaking. "Harry," her voice was hoarse at first. "What if I can't summon a Patronus?" Her eyes filled with pain as she asked the question which had been burdening her.

The Slytherin boys kept a close eye in the Gryffindor as he turned and instead took a seat before her in the Slytherin table.

Draco couldn't help but glare daggers at Harry.

Saint Potter.

So perfect.

So opportunistic.