The Lost Witch | Fred Weasley

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

The next couple of weeks I don't think anyone recognized any difference in me except my closest friends. My sarcasm level per sentence had reached an all-time high. I had perfected the resting bitch face without trying to and I stayed in fox form for as much as possible to avoid getting the pitying looks from people in the halls and giving me a good excuse to avoid watching Fred and Clara be all touchy feely.

Ginny said I had to stop torturing myself, but I refused to show weakness. I never sat with my back to the Ravenclaws. Instead, I faced them and suppressed the hell out of all my feelings. All my happiness, free and lofty attitude was completely fake. In the effort of hiding my sadness and weakness, no other true emotion wanted to come through either.

Fred had started sitting with Clara at meals and in between classes. And they were very into PDA.

I still didn't cry.

I wouldn't.

My insides had turned to stone since Valentine's Day. I just kept going, kept pushing. And worst of all, questioning what the hell had happened.

Safe to say, it had been an emotional roller-coaster, and I'd been holding in the emergency break since I got on.

I kept myself busy in the library the next couple of weeks. Not actual schoolwork because there was really no point in me doing well here. I would never be allowed to become an Auror anyways.

No, I researched the Veil. Turned out to be minimal information about it, but I kept looking. It was like Dumbledore had said, it was a gateway to the other side.

I tried to help Hermione in her research about the Department of Mysteries as well, but that went dry pretty quickly too. Also, I couldn't help too much, or she would work out what was going on. She was too clever for her own good.

"I'm just really worried about her," Amelia told the girls one day at dinner. Ginny was currently cutting up bits of sausage on a plate for me to eat. She stopped her movements for a second and glanced at me before returning to her task.

"Maybe you should talk to her about it," Ginny suggested, putting the plate of food down on the bench seat next to me. Staying in fox form had its perks, but right now I felt incredibly guilty for listening in on their conversation.

"I want to. But she won't let me. I mean, she barely shows up for meals anymore. And we all know how much that girl loves to eat. She's avoiding this at all costs. You've all seen how much she's changed, even if she tries to hide it. It's as if she won't let herself feel."

I felt even more guilty now. I didn't want them to worry about me. I wanted them to just forget that Fred and I had ever existed together. That's what I was trying to do anyways.

That evening, after dinner, we headed to our D.A. meeting. I didn't know how much Fred had shared with his girlfriend, but I was glad he wasn't bringing her to the meetings.

I was in the middle of blocking Lucy's disarming spell when we heard a big crash beside us. We both turned to see Fred lying in front of one of the bookshelves, rubbing his head as books littered around him.

My eyes went wide as I turned to look at Angelina, who had just stunned him back into the shelves. "Uh – Good job Angelina. But maybe wait with the stunning spells until we get the pillows out on the floor," Harry said carefully.

Angelina just smiled at what she had achieved and turned to give me a wink. I smiled and shook my head, before turning back to Lucy, catching George behind her.

He was looking at Angelina with a dumbstruck expression. I cleared my throat to get his attention and he quickly turned to me, a sheepish expression coming over his face.