The Other Potter: Book 7

(Brackets (don't) rock)

Hey, remember that time Harry taught defence to a bunch of weird teens?

Hey, remember that time when my favourite colours were pink and green?

Hey, remember that month when I only ate boxes of tangerines?

So cheap and Juicy!

Wait, no that’s a song. I didn’t do that.

Anyway, you know Dumbledore’s army? My attempt at teaching people to fight was completely botched. It was a shemozzle. Ruby sat there positively laughing as I went around mending peoples burns because I accidentally taught them how to light hair on fire. It’s hard to learn without wands, okay.

“What spell are you using?” asked little Jane, who was following me.

“I invented it.” I said proudly. “You point with your wand and say ‘helio’ and it heals.”

“Can I try?” she asked, and at that precise moment, someone set my leg hair on fire. I knew I should have shaved.

“Sure,” I said, wincing at the terrible burns on my leg. “Want to use my wand?”

“Nah, it’s okay.” Jane smiled. I gulped as she said: “Helio Maxima.”

“I swear that wasn’t the spell,” I muttered, but my leg was healed.

“Janey, I think you just healed everyone.” Ruby observed, as everyone’s burns were gone.

“Yay!” Jane yelled. “I’m clever!”

“You’re beating me, and I’ve been practicing for six years.” I smiled.

I was actually so impressed that it made my (Insert crude (nipples) word here) hurt.

“Is there a witchy job for healing?”

“Yup, it’s called being a healer.”

“Yay!” she yelled again.

“Miss Potter.” Called another voice and I winced, turning.

“It’s just Willow.”

“Okay, just Willow, I think I killed Ellie.” She gestured to her friend lying motionless on the floor.

Ruby and I bolted over, but Ellie had just been stunned. I restored her, because I’m awesome, not as awesome as Jane, but close (not really (yes really (stop using brackets))) (okay).

“Where did you learn that?” I asked, impressed.

“You mentioned it while you were speaking before, so I tried it.” She shrugged.

It was weird having people actually listen to my opinions.

“You’re having a go at Harry again, aren’t you?” Lucy asked.

“Shut up.” I snapped.

“What’s your name, honey?” I asked the stunner. (See what I did there?) (Seriously stop with the (you can’t tell me what to (I can tell you whatever now stop) do) brackets)

“Weirdly enough, my name is Honey.”

“Really?”

“No, it’s Elana, but your face looked funny.”

“Thanks,” I winked, because I’m socially inept and didn’t know how to respond. “Anyway, I think that’s enough for now, you should all get some rest.” I sounded professional, and as though I knew what I was talking about. “And Rubix Cube, can I have a word?”

Ruby looked at me and raised her eyebrows. “Are you speaking to me?”

“Can you see another Rubix Cube present?” I smiled.

“Yes, actually.” She pointed at an unsolved rubix cube that was on the floor.

“I cannot form a sentence tangible enough to express how irritated I am at that.” I said, and I did some spell that caused the cube to disappear.

“Where’d you send that?”

I just smiled at her and sighed.

[Meanwhile in The Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes]

“George, if you speak about her again, I will get tweezers and pull out your eyelashes.”

“I just want to know if she’s safe, or if she’s alive, or if she misses me like I miss her.”

“George, I’m not kidding. I’ve got the tweezers here.”

“I want a sign Fred, one sign to know if Willow is alive, one sign to know if it’s all going to be okay!”

At that particular moment, a Rubix Cube fell from nowhere, and hit George Weasley in the head.

“I think that’s your sign.” Fred smiled, as George observed the cube.

It had been painted over so it looked completed, and George knew that there was only one person in his life who was the correct combination of laziness and effort to do that.

“I think it is too.” George said, and he smiled for the first time in weeks.

[Aaaaand back to the random castle that Willow’s in (I don’t know why I made it a castle anyway) {maybe I could make up some bullshit about it} (continue with the story Fox) (I call myself Fox when I’m annoyed)]

“Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about wands. It’s easier to learn magic with a wand, so did you want to join me, or?” I asked Ruby.

“I can’t leave the kids.”

“Come on, It’ll only be about an hour.”

“I can’t Willow.”

“Why not!”

“Because if I leave this place, they can track me down and kill me, and I don’t want to die yet.”

“But you can’t come with me Ruby!” I shouted.

“What?” she said, apparently confused by my volte-face (Apparently that means change of heart. (who’da thunk) (Just stop))

“I know you want to come with me, but it’s safer for me to go on my own.” I said, and I sighed. “I’m sorry Ruby, but that’s just how it is.”

She paused for a long moment and stared at me.

“You have an insane kind of elegance to you.” she remarked.

“Thank you.” I said, wondering if it was a compliment or not.

“So, you’re not going to ask about why people try to kill me?”

“Nah, it’s your business. But you have to know that you can’t run forever Ruby, you’ll have to face it eventually.” I shut my eyes for a moment and exhaled. “I think I’ll call it a night.”

***

I’m addicted to the sadness. I’m addicted too feeling helpless and like nothing and nobody. But I’m learning. I’m learning it all depends on the situation. I was nobody around Harry and Ron and Hermione. They already had the brains, the guts and the glory, they didn’t need a Willow. But being here with these girls, it’s different. I feel like I’m valued and I’m worth something, and I like it, but at the same time, I want to lock myself away and cry.

They look up to me, and I feel like I’m a disappointment. I’m addicted to the sadness. I’m scared that if I let it all go there will be nothing left of me. I’m a paper person in a world of real people and I don’t know who I am.

I told Ruby that I was afraid of endings, and I don’t entirely know what I meant. I’ve assumed for a while that it was the end of my life. I had this feeling in my gut ever since August left me. I’ve felt as though I was going to end, just as he had. But perhaps it’s just life as I know it ending. Perhaps this feeling of sadness and paper is just my life being rewritten.

Aw, fuck, I have no idea.

The whole thing is – I’m not dying, it’s just life as I knew it. Ain’t that a relief.