Chapter 22

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I'm going to start updating more often now, but I don't have that much written out, so some of the chapters may be a bit shorter than the others :D

OKAY BUT CAN YOU BELIEVE AURORA IS BACK ON LEGACIES AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

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Hope's Pov

"Hope, just talk to us!" Hermione pleads.

Ignoring her, I continue to march down the stairs. Hermione, Harry, and Ron all chase after me, but I maintain such a fast pace that they have to run to catch up with me.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" Ron demands, blocking my path.

"Oh, shut up, Ron," I spit at him. "We all know you couldn't be happier that both Malfoy and I each got fifty points knocked out of Slytherin, with a detention each to boot for this ridiculous-"

"This wasn't 'ridiculous', Hope! You could have seriously hurt Zacharias!" Harry interrupts me.

"I would have, too, had you three idiots not stepped in!" I shout.

"Will you get a grip on yourself?" Ron shouts at me. "Hope, you're a decent person, with a decent personality! I've known you my whole life, and I know that you would never- This isn't you!"

"You have no goddamn clue as to who I am, Ron!" I say. "You don't know me, none of you do! Now leave me alone!"

I push past them and run through the halls, blinking away the tears that have appeared in my eyes. In half an hour, I've somehow isolated myself from my three best friends, along with the teacher whom I believe truly understood me.

'They don't know,' I think to myself. 'They don't know what I have to go through every day. No one does.'

"Weasley," a voice says.

I turn around, prepared to punch whoever has the nerve to come up to me right now.

"Oh," I say. "It's you."

Draco smirks. He looks happier than I've ever seen him before.

"You took my advice," he says. "You never take my advice."

"Don't think too much on it, Malfoy. I still hate you," I snap.

"Sure you do," he says. "Where are you doing now?"

"Nowhere in particular, but I'm planning on hexing the first Hufflepuff I see," I reply. "Why? Going to stop me?"

"Not at all. I'm thinking more along the lines of 'spectating'," Draco says.

A smile appears on my lips, but I quickly hide it away with a scowl.

"Just don't get in my way," I mutter.

I march into the Great Hall for dinner. It seems that word of what happened has already traveled quite far, for all eyes turn to me. People begin to whisper among themselves, staring and pointing.

But when I glare at them, them immediately stop talking, and look away.

Satisfied, I walk over to my usual seat at the Slytherin table. Like yesterday morning, Millicent Bullstrode is sitting there, looking quite at home with Pansy and her gang of Slytherin girls.

"Two seconds, Bullstrode, or I turn you into a rat," I breathe into her ear, whilst poking her in the side with the tip of my wand.

Bullstrode scrambles out of my chair, and I swing my leg over and take a seat.

Pansy scowls at me. "What do you want, Weasley?" she spits.

Typical. Acting as if the whole part where she turned the whole school against me never happened.

"I just wanted to raise a toast, Pansy," I smile, reaching for a glass filled with pumpkin juice. "To you and that pretty face of yours. I see Madam Pomfrey healed up the cuts I gave you quite nicely," I nod to her face which is free of any blemishes.

"Pity they didn't scar. I'll have try harder next time," I say. I squeeze the glass using my werewolf strength. It explodes into many pieces, startling everyone around us. Pansy screams and falls off her chair in an attempt to dodge the shards.

The glass has opened up a deep gash on the palm of my hand, but I ignore the pain. Everyone stares when I grab a napkin and wipe up my blood nonchalantly. The cut closes up by itself, thanks to whatever healing powers that come as an added bonus to being this creature that I am.

All eyes are on me as I walk straight out the way I came in. Something in my blood churns, and I realize that what I'm feeling right now is satisfaction. I feel... I feel as though I've finally taken the first step in fulfilling what I was meant to achieve since the day I was born.

"That was quite the show you put on out there," Professor Vaughan's voice speaks.

I whirl around on the spot and face her.

"Come to tell me off?" I say in a harsh voice, not caring whether she's my professor or not.

"I came to congratulate you, actually. You gave that Parkinson girl exactly what she deserved," she smiles.

"What?" I blurt out in surprise.

Professor Vaughan smiles. Her lips are dripping red, redder than the shade of her hair. Maybe her makeup ran? Or perhaps she spilled some of that gooseberry juice we had for lunch earlier today.

"Darling, let me give you some personal advice, based off of the long life that I've lived," she says.

Long life? She hardly looks a day over twenty.

"The world will never accept someone who is extraordinary. They'll call them crazy. Psychotic. A danger to society. People will always whisper things about you behind your back, and you won't be able to change that. But the one thing you can change is what they whisper about," Professor Vaughan says.

She pauses at the confused expression on my face.

"What you do can change 'crazy' to 'powerful'. 'Psychotic' to 'untouchable'. 'A danger to society' to 'the greatest being the world has ever seen'. It's up to you to decide how you tell your own story," Professor Vaughan finishes.

She really must be mental.

"November 22nd. Once the sun sets, take a stroll into the Forbidden Forest. See what you find," Professor Vaughan says. She shoots me a knowing smile, before ducking out of the hall.

I stand there, not knowing what to do or how to react to the little speech she gave me. Her words reverberate in the back of my head...

'What you do can change 'crazy' to 'powerful'. 'Psychotic' to 'untouchable'. 'A danger to society' to 'The greatest being the world has ever seen'. It's up to you to decide how you tell your own story.'

It's up to me to decide how I tell my own story. It's up to me to decide whether I become somebody to laugh at.... Or somebody to fear. 

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