Scars 🗝 Fred Weasley

18. Return

Dear me,                                                                                  January 4th, 1999

Well still can't believe it's 1999. I've already mentioned that haven't I?

Anyway, we are getting the shop back on its feet renovation is finally almost over then we will be reopening!

And let me tell you Rita Skeeta Will not be invited she published another article of conspiracy shit about Constance yesterday the twat should be fired.

I checked if Constance was okay and she said she just burnt the newspapers.

Oh yes and she's finally replying to my letters, hopefully that's a step in the right direction.

Next I have to. a) convince her she isn't putting me in danger b) convince her she isn't bad for me and c) convince her that she deserves everything, and we aren't different.

That's a lot to Swallow.

No pun intended. Wait you don't know her last name. wait of course you do your fucking me!

I'm ending this one here.

-

Classes commenced the next day, everything felt like a blur. Everyone would be arriving soon.

Normally she would be unfazed about this, it was just time it flows along. But she was freaking out inside her head. All the little versions of her where running and screaming inside her skull.

How where people going to react?

Would they stare?

Would they pity her?

Would they be mad?

is Ginny still mad?

Since the articles in the daily prophet where out everyone knew she had been tortured, how she would react she didn't know and she was just freaking out, practically shitting bricks.

"calm down Constance" Hermione hummed as she placed her hand over Constance's fidgeting ones.

"you'll be fine, if anyone attacks you, we'll snap their neck" Nott shrugged.

But it didn't help. Not one bit. Oh god what was she going to do? No, the question was what where they going to do?

She reminded herself to calm down and that her prior self wouldn't freak out like this. She took a rather large breath then pulled out her sketch book and sketched.

It helps her release stress, most of the time.

She settled on something comforting to draw. Medusa. It probably didn't seem like something comforting, but it was too her. It was the first painting she feel in love with when she was six years old, they were walking along an art gallery and she stopped in her tracks and stared up at this beautiful woman with snake hair.

In years to follow she did research on her then eventually started drawing and painting her, that painting was what made her discover her passion and it was comforting to think back to then. Much simpler times.

Then the common room door flung open and her eyes snapped away from the sketch book, he heart rate increasing.

"Pucey!"

Suddenly her fear started to replace itself with amusement she couldn't help but snort. What was his last name? she had heard it wrong right?

Blaise and Draco both stood up and patted the guy on the back.