MAUVE VIOTTO is in her sixth year at Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a widely-loved Ravenclaw. She is a protector of those she cares about, and treats most people with relative kindness despite her sassy attitude. She's a free-spirit...
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An odd feeling blossoms in my chest when I walk into the Great Hall and find vacancy in Mauve's regular spot. It seems something of disappointment, though I'm unsure as to why I feel that way. My eyes dart around the large room, down the long Ravenclaw table in search for the blonde-haired girl. I spy Lovegood at the table, along with Chang and other people I can't be bothered to know the names of, but no Mauve.
As I take a seat, I glance at the other tables, wondering if she decided to sit with either Damaris or Einar, but both neither are accompanied by her. I frown, reaching for an apple as I realize she's not here. Her absence had filled me with disappointment, yet I try to shake off the feeling.
"Why are you so grouchy today?" Theo laughs, reaching for an orange. I grimace at the choice of fruit, wondering how he could choose that repulsive thing instead of an apple.
I roll my eyes, "I'm not."
"He is, but he always is anyway." Blaise cuts in with a small laugh. I wonder whether Lovegood knows where she is, but I obviously would not approach her either way. Still, it doesn't hurt to think about it.
She's probably asleep still, I think to myself. With that thought in my head, I glance again at the fruit bowl, a singular red apple is left in the bottom of the bowl. I see a hand stretching out towards it and before it can take it, I reach out to grab it.
"What the hell?" Some younger Slytherin git exclaims, snapping their head up to meet mine. With just a simple glare, they shut their mouth and move down the table.
Theo laughs, "bro, did you even need that apple?" He points to the red one in my other hand.
I scoff, rolling my eyes. "I wouldn't have taken it if I didn't need it."
Blaise raises a brow, his eyes flickering between my left and right hand. "You already have an apple though — and it's red, you hate red apples." He points out with a curious expression.
I huff in annoyance, "well that's not your business, is it?"
This shuts them up, but they continue to send me suspicious looks. We head to class after breakfast, and I can hardly pay any attention with the sight of the Golden Trio at the front — probably causing trouble and getting away with it like they always do. The class would always leave me in a sour mood.
And it didn't help that now, I would also notice Dean Thomas sitting on the other row of desks. Just one look at him and a scowl would tug on my lips. I can't even face the front of the classroom without wanting to throw my hardcover book at their heads.
I feel my phone buzz in the pocket of my pants and discreetly slip it out to check it— even though I'm almost entirely sure its from the group chat Mauve had made weeks ago. I furrow my eyebrows at the message from Damaris: has anyone seen mauve?
