PURIFY : Fred Weasley

20: Abandoned

I'm late for lunch. Professor Snape wanted to see me, and apparently, it couldn't wait. All we did was discuss squill bulb, which definitely could have waited. Though my stomach rumbles, I don't imagine that I can bring myself to eat anything.

As I walk in, I pass by Silas. He sits at the very end of the table, alone. His fork scratches across his plate, pushing around food that I doubt he intends to eat. I can't help myself; I sit down in front of him.

His eyelids flutter a few times. "You shouldn't be sitting here. Aren't your precious friends awaiting?"

I blink. Over fighting him, I opt to stand up and walk away. I strut through the hall, not bothering to look back at him until I am seated in the empty spot between Elora and Bronwyn. Across from us are a few other boys.

I sit on my hands, glancing over at Harry Potter. He's looking at me.

"Are you going to eat?" Bronwyn asks.

I take a sip of my water, and then pull some food onto my plate.

Harry Potter is making eye contact with me, and I don't know why. It could be the colour of my robes that shocks him, my family name, or perhaps he is privy to some information from Fred and George. Normally, I can get a good read on people, but not him. He remains an enigma.

Bronwyn snaps her fingers in front of my face, earning some laughter from the table. Adrian Pucey and Cassius Warrington practically snort out of their noses, choking on their drinks.

I'm sort of in a daze, so I have no idea what they could be laughing at other than me. Hopefully, it is something else, but I have no guarantees.

"How's your drink?" Elora asks.

I furrow my brow. "It's water. As good as water gets, I guess. Why do you ask?"

She smirks and looks down in her goblet. "Mine tastes funny."

"Oh hush," Bronwyn shushes Elora. She turns to me, a grin plaster across her face. "Who were you staring at? Was it George Weasley?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm looking at Harry Potter."

An eruption of giggles bursts out at the table. Why did I say that aloud? Adrian and Cassius exchange a look.

"I thought you fancied George, but Harry Potter? Isn't he like, fifteen?" Bronwyn snickers, leaning in close to me.

"I don't know how old he is," I snap back. "And I don't fancy him, or George for that matter."

"Larkin, do you think I'm handsome?" Cassius asks.

I actually try to decipher him. His hair is a good length, and a nice colour of blonde. His physique is pretty good, although it would probably be better if he played Quidditch like Adrian. Honestly, his jaw is a bit too round, and his eyes are a dull grey. "You look nice enough."

They snicker again, and it occurs to me that he asked me an odd question.

"What's going on?" I ask, turning around to face the others.

"Who do you fancy?" Bronwyn presses on.

"Fred Weasley," I say before a hand flinches up to my mouth. Oh Merlin, what am I doing?

Everyone at the table laughs around me.

It occurs to me to smell my drink. I lift it to my nose and waft it in. I smell nothing and taste nothing, but that doesn't mean that nothing has bewitched me.

Merlin.

Veritaserum. Odourless, colourless, tasteless. Less effective when the user is aware that they've been bewitched. There was water in my goblet when I sat down. Elora asked me about it. All of the pieces are falling into place, and oh how I feel like an imbecile.

I stand up, stepping out from inside the table. I grab the water off the table and throw it at Elora.

Elora shrieks out. "What the actually fuck Larkin? What the fuck?"

"You didn't break my Veritaserum, did you? You stole it, you slimy bitch," I say. "You bewitched me."

Then, I turn to Bronwyn, who has a scowl on her face. "And you knew about it, didn't you?"

"Relax, it was just a prank," Bronwyn rolls her eyes. She moves to put a hand on my shoulder, and I rip myself out of her grip. "You're honestly being so uptight."

I pull my wand out of my pocket, and hold it in my hand. The laughter amongst the men at the table cuts out.

"What is going on?" Professor Snape asks from behind me.

I stare forward, not choosing to look back at them.

"Elora spilled her water on herself," Bronwyn bats her eyes. "It was entirely an accident."

I don't argue with her. I know that I'm not going to get out of detention if Professor Snape discovers what really went on, but I still do want the satisfaction of Elora and Bronwyn getting in trouble for the illegal use of a Ministry-regulated potion.

"Why don't you sit down then, Miss Travers," it's not a question. It's an order.

I don't do as he says, instead I move down to the other end of the table. I sit far away from Silas and begin to finish my meal.

Bade Shafiq slides down across from me. He doesn't say anything. Instead, he begins to eat his chicken. I watch as he eats, bite by bite. He feels more like a ghost than a person. I wonder if those around us think that I am eating on my own, or if they know the history between us, or if they even care. I most certainly do.

Eventually, Silas slides up to us. He nods at me, but he too eats in silence. There are a thousand questions that I want to ask him, but none of them do I want to air out in front of Bade. After all, Bade is practically a stranger.

Then again, the longer that I know Silas, the more he too feels like a stranger. No matter.

The lunch period is beginning to end. As Bronwyn and Elora walk by, I don't dare watch. Something collides into my back, and I feel something squish into my hair. I raise my fingers, pulling out a sweet filled with strawberry jam. The jam slowly seeps into my hair.

"I'm so sorry," Bronwyn smiles. "I tripped. Like Elora did earlier. We're just so clumsy."

"You're funny," I roll my eyes.

I pull out my wand, and with a flick of my wrist, she goes flying backwards, flipping once in the air before she lands on her back. A collective gasp and silence fall through the Great Hall, and I know that I've sincerely fucked up.

Silas snatches the wand out of my hand. "You're going to get yourself expelled."

Bronwyn pulls herself off the ground and pulls out her wand. "Engorgio skullus."

I try not to shriek as I feel my head expand. I tip over and hit the ground. My head is too heavy to pull up. It strains my neck. I take out a deep breath, but don't say anything.

A Hufflepuff prefect runs up to me and helps lift my head off from behind me.

Professor Umbridge is already behind us, with her arms crossed. "Enough. Detention, all of you. Miss Browning, if you would help bring Miss Travers to the Hospital Wing, that would be much appreciated."

Bronwyn and Elora wander off, and I am still stuck in the same spot, with a massive head, wondering what in Merlin's name I am going to do for the next eight months that I am trapped here.

~~~~~

Another shorter chapter again. No matter. I really like this one despite its length. Like, it's no masterpiece, but it's excellent enough.

I hope to see you all soon!