Secrets Only Trouble Knows - George Weasley

24 - Fools In the Rain

A month passed without having found any answers to what Harry had experienced during his detention with Professor Lockheart.

It was weird to have heard a creepy voice with no identifiable source, and it was especially unnerving that whatever it was had been talking about killing, so I'd tried to mull over the topic in my head as often as I could— both for my own curiosity and to ease Harry's worries. However, in the meantime, Harry appeared fine after that night. He hadn't brought the matter up again and because of that, I assumed he hadn't experienced anything else out of the ordinary, seeing as he would have told me otherwise.

So, as the days went on, I determined it must've just been a one-off sort of thing. It was likely Harry had merely just overheard one of Hogwarts' countless ghosts roaming around the castle, muttering nonsense about their past life. That was the most logical assumption, and for my sanity, I chose to go with it. I had plenty of other things to concern myself with than something that thankfully seemed to have solved itself already.

For instance, now that October had approached, the coursework for fourth year had picked up significantly. The magic we were learning was more complex than ever before, and performing it was even more difficult. The excuse was that professors were looking to prepare us for our O.W.L. examinations next year that very much determined what career we were able to pursue in our future. While I appreciated their motives, it was still a lot to keep up with, even for me. My classmates and I were being assigned something new every night. Professor Snape especially gave us papers every single chance he got. If one Gryffindor so much as breathed wrong in class (and Fred and George Weasley apparently breathed wrong a lot), he had a prompt for a tedious paper up his sleeve that he'd drop on us without hesitation.

Nevertheless, I was really enjoying my fourth year so far, even with the heavier workload.
For starters, I hadn't experienced a single unusual nightmare like I had whilst at Adrian's manor. Secondly, I felt more happy with my current group of friends than ever before. George and I were having a blast together and I'd even become super close with his sister Ginny. She was such a lively person and fit in perfectly with the girl gang. Callie, Flora, Isla, and Hermione all loved her to death. She was certainly a Weasley— she was bright and fiery and knew all too well how to pull her weight, especially around her brothers. It was so much fun watching her with them. They wouldn't admit it out loud, but I was pretty sure they were glad she was finally at school with us, just like I was.

I also made sure not to forget to take a step back every now and then when things got difficult so I wouldn't slip into the unhealthy habits of last spring. I did this mainly by indulging in some time spent with just myself, usually in the form of long walks around the castle to clear my head. When it was raining, I explored inside, trekking all over the various floors. When it wasn't, I usually pattered along the edge of the Black Lake.

But it had been raining a lot recently. When October had arrived, a damp chill had spread over the castle and grounds. It would storm and thunder around the clock for days on end, making the lake swell with extra water and the lawns a muddy mess. Though the professors hated it, us students couldn't help but track dirt and puddles of water into the castle with us everywhere we went.

For many the bad weather was quite unfavorable, especially my Gryffindor boys who played on the Quidditch team. They were constantly out braving the horrible cold, rain, and swamps of mud due to Oliver Wood's frequent practices. He was serious about getting his team whipped into shape for the season, so this meant he demanded his players to train hard whenever they weren't asleep or in class. He was obsessed with the idea of winning the Cup this year, and if Gryffindor didn't, I was fairly certain he would actually combust. He lived and breathed for the sport and took it more seriously than anyone I'd ever met. It was his pride and joy and sole purpose in life, it seemed. I was worried for the health and safety of the boys if they didn't claim victory.