Fiebre | Severus Snape

tres - primer día (rewritten)

chapter three - first day

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The following day Alba was sat at the Slytherin table during breakfast. She felt significantly lighter after giving herself permission last night to silently break down and journal her sensibilities. It was the way she managed to recharge, deeming her sufficient energy to rise and put on her act once more. She had to handle her sorrow one day at a time.

This morning she wasn't entirely lonely. She had been accompanied by Draco and secured a seat next to him at their house table, though currently was away at the restroom, leaving Alba alone in their spot.

She took the time to examine her new wizarding robes, which had green accents referring to the house she belonged to. The Slytherin house patch replaced the Hogwarts one from yesterday, topped off with a green and silver tie. A part of her was relieved she was required to wear a uniform and robe, meaning less brainpower would be involved in terms of dressing up for the day. She wouldn't have to wear exorbitantly overpriced clothes all hours of the day like she initially devised.

The expensive, well-made fabrics of her high-end attire hauled with her to Hogwarts wasn't her idea of comfortable. Different materials and textiles of the articles of clothing bothered her—overstimulated her at times— from how foreign they felt. She had been surrounded by luxury her entire life, but rejected wearing any part of it for this reason.

Not only did it seem too formal for everyday wear, but irritating, how clothes so costly managed to feel utterly rigid and tense. It was no secret to her that the highly marketed apparel was all about the brand and extensive price tag, not comfort. The fabrics, silks, wool, restricted movements in one way or another due to their fragility.

Alba found it idiotic to wear such garments for the sake of appearing and feeling superior, something she came to despise as she matured into her teens. Sacrificing comfort for the benefit of an exclusive status was not on her radar. They performed no better than a basic shirt you would purchase at a department store.

But here she was eating her own words, embodying the precise idea of what she wanted to separate herself from.

All her life she had everything she could've wanted. Pampering, being rewarded, gifted what she desired. She had even attended an extensive private school up until the age of eleven, where she then began her homeschooling for wizardry.

Halting her communal academics isolated her in a way she didn't expect. It tore her from the reality of everyday people. She spent the majority of the days in her house so used to the extravagance of the life she lived, that when she went outside into the real world, it was much more inviting than her lavish lifestyle.

She craved the normalcy of everyday people. Regular day activities seemed more enticing. From that realization, she didn't want to be seen as a stuck up, privileged person of means. She wanted to remain humble and low.

It's the reason she began to sneak into the clubs and dancehalls her father owned, at the age of fifteen. It combined her love of music with the communal, ordinary experiences of humans. She wanted to immerse herself to be able to read the room, connect and relate with common folk.

She felt like a hypocrite at the moment, but it was for the sake of her sanity.

Though she wore her school robes, her accessories, shoes and hair remained well put and displayed to exhibit a real, but exaggerated version of her high class status.

Alba's mid-length chocolate brown hair was down, styled straight. The sleekness of her hair prominently pointed out the subtle caramel highlights. To compliment her school house colors, a light grey Prada headband was placed on the top of her head, the large triangle designer logo located in the middle of the accessory. The headband was strategically placed in the middle of the top of her head to showcase the side-parted face framing strands, complimenting her round face.