Louanne Delacour

Chapter 14- The Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

November 7th, 1993

"Where to start..." I muttered just loud enough for Seamus to hear me.

"How about we sit down?" He suggested. I nodded and brushed past him to sit on the floor directly in front of the fire. With only a hint of confusion, the boy took a seat next to me.

An awkward silence stretched out again. I didn't know what to say, and I couldn't even imagine what he was thinking. Did he think I was a monster? Just like everybody else did? What if Dumbledore expelled me? I don't think I could hold myself together again. When I came home last Summer, Gabrielle had to bring me my meals because I wouldn't come out of my room, and even at one point, slept in my room because of my nightmares. What if my mother didn't want to see me again? She seemed pretty upset every time this happened at home. Could I get kicked out of the house? Would I ever have friends? What if-

"That was pretty wicked."

What?

Seamus must have seen my face, because he quickly added, "You could probably scare everybody in school into doing whatever you want. They'd be stupid to cross you after today."

That was enough to get a small smile out of me. "Yeah... I guess."

"Why did you hide it?" He asked. He looked serious enough, even if I thought it was a ridiculous question to ask.

"Last year kids made fun of me for it," I put it simply. Obviously, that was not the answer he was looking for. "There aren't many Veelas in North or South America, so when word got out what I looked like when I got angry, anybody and everybody I called my friends sort of left."

His expression softened, and we both turned back to the fire. "Does it only happen when you're mad?"

That was tricky. Though I hadn't turned in so long, I still controlled it. Considering the Dementors barely made me mad at all.

When I was seven, I transformed for the first time. Fleur took something of mine--- I can't remember what--- and I spat a fireball from my beak at her. It scared everybody in the room. Terrified, she had dropped the object of my anger and ran behind our parents.

They didn't seem very surprised, albeit a little confused. My grandmother was a full-blood Veela, but my mother wasn't, and my sisters and I even less so. Only full Veelas were supposed to be able to turn into a harpy-ish thing, but here I was. Eventually, we riddled it down to really strange genetics.

As I grew up, it made our mother so angry I was scared she would spit fire too. Of course, she never did, but I was told to learn how to control it, or I'd be taken to a doctor to get rid of it. And despite the obvious repercussions of keeping it, it was a part of me. So every day, I would lock myself in my room for hours trying to turn into it again. I had to be angry at first, but it soon came easily to me. But at times, I sort of wish I had gotten rid of it.

"No. That just helps. Sometimes when I'm alone, it turns into a hobby. The flying part anyway. I really like flying," I explained.

"Did you tell anyone else about it?"

"Draco. He and my family are the only ones who knew until today."

Seamus nodded in understanding.

People started to file into the common room. Looking at my watch, it read 11:30. "Do you still want to know the whole story?" I asked him.

"If you're willing to tell me," he said. Since I was already spilling my guts and in a vulnerable state, I nodded.

But before I said anything else, Hermione, Ron, and Harry crossed over to us. They still held a tenseness in the air about them, and I didn't care to keep the talking to a minimum. So nobody said anything. We just stared at the fireplace until Fred and George barged in with Oliver.