𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 | 𝐡. 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝟔𝟖 - 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭

TW - horror elements.
Gird your loins ppl.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤-𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙥𝙞𝙘 𝙤𝙛 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙊𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙖 𝙇𝙚 𝙁𝙖𝙮.

One half of the school remained adamant that she was everything that she presented to the world, a harshly kind and selfless girl who was headstrong and loyal to what she believed in, yet reserved and introverted in private, the girl who would remember people's birthdays to bake them a cake so they felt some semblance of home and would sit and listen to people's qualms and issues without getting bored. Yet there were others who opposed it, preferring to believe the Ministry's cry of wolf, a young yet widely over-ambitious girl who was a disruptive terror and a terrible influence on the children in Hogwarts, they would rather believe she was a spoiled arrogant girl than the too-good-to-be-true legend that she had become.

The Great Hall was still buzzing with gossip even after the three weeks she'd been admitted into the hospital wing. 

"It's sick." said Eleanor at breakfast, poking her eggs, "People were so ready to see her fall, to ruin her reputation, and she's been suffering this entire time, I'm glad Dumbledore managed to get Phee to keep her place, but Umbridge got her way with not allowing Phee to have visitors at all. Not even Uncle Moony... or Harry, or us even... it's barbaric and cruel. All this talk in the newspaper about her being a wild and unruly girl is utter bullshit when her methods are completely barbaric."

"That's not even the worse of it." said Ginny, glancing over to Hermione who was reading a book on law, "People have gotten the word out that she's in the hospital since her injuries were... in a very specific place, people believe it was a cry of attention suicide attempt, people have been sending her letters and howlers to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey's having to burn them all to avoid getting that undiluted Bubotuber pus everywhere."

"Yeah, I remember getting some last year, nasty stuff." said Hermione tearfully, "Someone ransacked Phee's bed last week... McGonagall had to do a full investigation, turns out it was a couple of second years who thought they could get a reaction out of us. It took us ages to fix everything they broke."

"And Harry, having to continue with the D.A. meetings on his own. Phee insisted he go on with them in a letter McGonagall gave him, you can see him being hesitant about it, he looks like a ghost of himself." said Vivian, "Has anyone found out who told Umbridge about her birthday?"

"No, it could've been anyone..." said Ron forlornly, "Harry's at his wit's end trying to figure out who it was, doesn't help that that Romilda woman keeps insisting on helping him find who did it. Not to mention all the people getting into accidents to get a glimpse of her to start spouting nasty lies about her."

"Yeah... we've only got a day left of term, isn't Phee meant to be coming back today?" asked Beatrice, "Harry said she's going to be teaching us how to cast Patronus tonight if she's able"

"Yeah, she's meant to be released today, I asked Madam Pomfrey and she say's her arm looks all nice and healed again and she can use it again, but she's meant to be taking it easy." said Hermione, "Phee doesn't like the word easy."

Then the Great Hall fell silent, as Ophelia stepped into the doorway her arm in a sling, with Harry standing right beside her, his hand in hers as he walked with her to the Gryffindor Table, there were whispers and murmurings the further they got into the hall as some people shouted "Go to Hell!" or "Phony!" at her, Ophelia didn't wince, but Harry certainly did.

But he didn't get a chance, as Vivian stood on the Gryffindor table she had migrated to after the Slytherin table started asking her if they knew if Ophelia's tricks up her sleeve finally cut her.