BREAK FROM TORONTO, HARRY POTTER.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: "I DON'T WANT THEM!"

cw // use of medication, behavior disorder, borderline meltdown

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE.

     "No Quidditch practice," said Angelina in hollow tones when Harry, Aveline, Ron, and Hermione entered the common room that night after dinner.

     "But I kept my temper!" said Harry, horrified. "I didn't say anything to her, Angelina, I swear, I —"

     "I know, I know," Angelina cut in miserably. "She just said she needed a bit of time to consider."

     "Consider what?" Ron asked angrily. "She's given the Slytherins permission, why not us?"

     "I don't know!" Angelina groaned and sulked off to the sixth year girls dormitories.

     Aveline glanced at her watch. "Uh, I'm— I'm gonna head up early," she said.

     "Why? Is everything okay?" Hermione asked as Ron and Harry looked at Aveline, concerned.

     "What? Yeah! No, yeah!" Aveline nodded hastily, looking at her friends, "I just— I have something I need to do before it gets too late and I'm too tired."

     "Are you sure everything's okay?" Harry questioned.

     "Yeah, it's fine," Aveline smiled. She kissed Harry's cheek before going up to the dormitories. She let Lala out the cage and crawled into bed before pulling out papers and a pen.

     She stared at the paper.

     What do I write in a letter to my aunt that I didn't know existed until about 4 months ago?

     I really do not know.

     Lame.

     Aveline clicked her pen a few times causing Lala to perk up, searching for the source of the sound.

Dear Lucille

     Aveline crossed it out and balled up the paper, tossing it onto the floor.

Dear Aunt

     Aveline balled up the paper again and tossed it to join the other paper.

     This process continued for 5 minutes with over 25 papers balled up on the floor before Aveline settled on one.

Aunt Lucille,

     Okay, what now?

     Just write.

     Write what?!

     Whatever comes to mind.

     Aveline sighed heavily, flipping her pen between her fingers. Lala had settled herself beside Aveline after the 7th piece of paper almost hit her in the face.

I wasn't aware that Blaise talked about me. That's nice to hear.

     OHHHH MY GOD. YOU'RE SO AUTISTIC. STOP.

     I'M TRYING. STOP, YOU'RE MAKING ME HATE MYSELF.

     GOOD.

     Aveline groaned quietly, but kept writing anyway.