RUN - James Potter

Chapter 11

The days blurred together like paints, some days were bright and colourful and others were a blank canvas. Antonella could not catch a break.

She spent her mornings burning, her face having a pink tinge to it as the sun was biting every inch of her exposed skin. Classes went by normally, all but potions and advanced alchemy, as she was the definition of a Ravenclaw stereotype. She was always studying. 

In potions and advanced alchemy, she made a point to be as far from the flames; James Potter and the burning fire under the caldron. She did not want to be burnt, both from his piercing eyes and the dancing orange wind. Her Potions and Advanced Alchemy professors, Slughorn and Vennings, had no quells with her lack of participation in class. 

Each night was the same: Walk the fifth floor corridors on Monday, Research for Asterin and Matilda on Tuesday, Wednesday night's were for her weekly catch up with Professor McGonagall, Tutor the third years' in charms on Thursday, Friday's she dreaded as she had Slugclub and Sunday's were her prefect duties again. She breathed on Saturdays.

The seasons changed, with it, the sun changed from a boiling ball of fire into something non-existence; a void. Even with the chills of the wind, the howling of the winds and the sloshing of the wet ground when she walked across the lawns... her morning routine did not change.

This is how she found herself in Professor McGonagall's office at around 5pm, sipping on tea whilst talking about what spells she would be teaching tomorrow in Transfiguration. Of course the conversations always slipped into a non-school talk.

"I've heard from Madam Pince that you've been spending an awful amount of time in the potions aisle," She paused to sip from her teacup, "Have you been struggling?"

Antonella shook her head viciously, as if the thought of her struggling...failing in a class was the worst outcome possible. 

Professor McGonagall's eyebrow arched, a dangerous sharp raise. Everything about her transfiguration teacher was perplexing. During the day, she was as sharp as a needle... from her hair, her eyes and her voice. During the night, she was sharper... even with her hair let down in curls, her lips curling into a smile and with a warm cup of tea in her hand.

"Asterin and Matilda have been researching stuff..." Her voice trailed, unsure if she should tell her of their research, "And asked me to research into the potions aspect, as Matilda would never willingly read about potion's." Antonella let out a small gasp, at her own words.

"Yes, I've heard about Miss Hoggs unbelievable skills in Potions... and her hatred of it of course," Professor McGonagall's laugh echoed, "What are you researching if you don'-"

The conversation stop from the sound of a loud bang outside. Staring at the closed door of Professor McGonagall's office, the hues of red and purple was evident... someone was lurking in the corridors and they must have a death wish.

The professor excused herself, hastily. Her walk from out of the office was rushed, her voice loud as she went to find the students responsible for this 'inexcusable' use of magic in the corridors. Antonella stayed seated in her chair, it was always were chair when the lilac purple pillow sat in the cushioned red chair... Gryffindor pride. 

She nibbled on Professor McGonagall's biscuits, an unknown fact about her was her baking skills... she was nearly more skilled than her brother and mother. She most definitely would become a rival if she ever took her baking skills into Diagon Alley. 

Ignoring the yelling, and the clacking of shoe heels as they walked closer to the office door. Antonella admired Professor McGonagall's office, red and gold, the Gryffindor aesthetic, but the room was decorated in black and white frames. Inside the frames were duplicates of assessments and tests of students she has taught over the years. When she first asked why she hanged one of her own tests from her first year, a 49%... below the class average, her response was 'It shows the growth in your academics, I rather praise the success of growth than high grades. If you only score a 49%, but tried your best... you deserved to be applauded'.