Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
—
ramadan mubarak!! to those practicing, you may not want to read this chapter.
lowkey a filler? and not my best work? but eh
can we get to 3k comments and 600 votes?
—
The door to my compartment slams open, making me jolt in surprise and nearly drop the book I'm holding. I look up to see who it is, heart pounding.
"When's the last time Blaise spoke to you?"
"The dinner party. Before catching us."
"Damn it."
"You?"
Celeste groans loudly, lightly hitting her head against the doorframe before stepping into the compartment and sliding the door back shut (after making sure her fat grey Chicken is safely inside, of course).
"Same," she spits spitefully, dropping onto the seats across from me, "except I live with him, so not only do I get to deal with his silence, I also get to deal with him glaring holes into my head!"
"Better than living with the Carrows," I deadpan, scanning her and the uniform she's already wearing, and then looking back down to my book.
I can practically hear the scowl on her face melt away into an uncomfortable grimace. "Yeah. Fair enough."
I flash a quick glance at her. She's looking out the window with her arms crossed and a soft pout on her lips.
"Did you need something?" I then ask coolly, flipping a page in the textbook and crossing my ankle over my knee.
"Hm? Oh, no, I just—" I give her a peculiar look when she cuts herself abruptly, watching as she tugs the sleeves of her sweater down and slumps a bit in her seat. "I didn't know where else to sit, if I'm being honest," Celeste murmurs with a slight shrug, her eyes averted. "I don't really talk to anyone but Blaise, Pansy, and Maxon, and the three of them are sitting together. I mean, Maxon is great, but he doesn't balance out Blaise and Pansy," she rambles, hands gesturing vaguely as she speaks. "So then I was looking for somewhere to sit, and I was thinking about sitting with the other girls, but..."
I bite down lightly on the inside of my lip to keep a smile from spreading. She pushes her hair out of her face and turns her chin up haughtily without prying her eyes off the floor. On her lap sits her Chicken, licking lazily at his paw.
"Why are you sitting all alone, anyway? Because of Blaise? Don't you have your Quidditch friends to sit with?"
I don't look away from her as I say, "I do, but I was looking to be alone."
