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"How early did you come?" I sat next to my cousin. The potions classroom smelled oddly pleasant when I walked through the door, but I suspect it was coming from the large cauldron on the table at the front of the classroom.
Amortentia.
He gave me a tired look back, "A few minutes ago to take our seats." He paused, returning his gaze to the quill in his hand, "Looks like we're making a potion today. Amortentia perhaps." His eyes darted around the nearly empty classroom before looking back at me. "What the hell were you doing with Barty this morning?"
I rolled my eyes before settling back in my chair.
Why are only my relatives this weird?
"I already told you about my plan, Reg. You know I hate repeating myself." I rubbed my eyes and was greeted by an anxious sigh from my right.
"You're heartless, and as much as I like to see people suffer, Barty isn't one of those people I wish harm on. And I don't plan on comforting him when he learns the truth."
"Then don't."
My eyes fell on a group of Hufflepuffs entering the classroom and taking their seats. I looked away when someone tapped me on the shoulder, almost making me jump out of my skin.
"Hey, do you mind if I sit at your table?" It was Alex with his sickly kind smile.
Several people in the room held their breath. Regulus gave him a stinky eye before going back to his book and I didn't know what to say.
"Yes." If he already wants his life to be miserable, I won't stand in his way.
The bell rang for class to start, and at the same moment I saw Slughorn's stomach come in before him. He stopped at the front of the classroom before greeting the students with his cheery attitude like it wasn't 9am.
I stopped listening when he started talking about love instead of love potion. The two are very different - one exists and the other does not. Nevertheless, I believe that there is a certain system of positive and negative emotions condensed into one simple word - love.
My attention was drawn to the sudden opening of the door followed by a fit of laughter from some of the Slytherins as Bartemius tripped, entering the classroom.
He gave the professor a sheepish smile, "I'm sorry for the delay, professor." His eyes scanned the classroom before landing on mine, but his attention was drawn back by Slughorn's horrifying words.
"Great!" He clapped his hands. "I was just wondering who our guinea pig would be. Would you mind, Mr. Crouch Jr., smelling this potion and telling us what you smell?"
This should be interesting.
Bartemius snorted arrogantly and as the Slytherins cheered him on, he walked over to the cauldron with his ego having a tea party with Merlin in the clouds.
My eyes followed his every move and as he leaned over the cauldron, I watched realization hit him in the face.
"Tell us what you smell?" Slughorn pushed.
"Cigarettes, Hogwarts library and lavender. The smell is quite strong, don't skimp on the ingredients I see."
Oh, fool.
Slughorn laughed heartily before telling Bartemius to go take his seat.
"I can't wait for all the drama after the Gryffindor match against Slytherin in May." Reg snorted and I couldn't keep the grin off my face as Alex looked between the two of us.
"You smell like everything that boy implied. You already knew he liked you?" Alex's ignorance sounds almost innocent.
"It's hard not to notice."
•
What's the point of books? Are they there just so that writers can write out their thoughts, turning them into beautiful, unusual words just so that the reader can read it in a few hours and forget everything they've read?
Forgetting is a tragedy. However, I don't bother to write down everything I think about. Why? Because I don't know how to put it all into words. I think far beyond my limits, as if I have a mind that is the limit of my thoughts.
I can't prevent tragedies. I love them. I love tragedies. There is something strangely pleasant about misery and such a rush of emotions that the suffering is almost beautiful.
And what would be a tragedy but turning towards the Hufflepuff dormitories instead of Slytherin.
Alex told me to wait for him. I refused. I think he knows where the dormitories and the common room are, he doesn't need me as a guide.
Maybe he wants a friend, but Hogwarts is full of nice people, he should look beyond me.
I was thinking of a plan to get Bartemius away from me before next year - our final.
I need to remove him from my path that he lights up with his smile and eyes so green it hurts to look at them. He is dark, but he shines with light. How is that possible?
What I do know is that once I hurt him enough to leave me alone, I will be able to complete my task and secretly destroy Voldemort. Once the attention isn't on me.
•
"Oi, love!" Attention is on me again. The entire hall looks between the Slytherin table with Bartemius standing on top of it, and the Hufflepuff table where I sit like a normal student.
It's Wednesday, which means he's once again declaring his love in dramatic fashion. I thought we were over this since holding hands yesterday, but I knew I was wrong when I found flowers outside my bedroom this morning.
Even James Potter gave up on winning over Lily Evans last year. Maybe because he finally realized that Lily doesn't like boys, but a girl from Hufflepuff - Mary McDonald. Still, Gryffindor was still impressed every time Bartemius did something he didn't, even though James hated Slytherin.
I didn't listen to what he was saying, but I can feel the looks of anticipation, as if it's the first time he's doing this again.
I didn't wait for Bartemius to speak again before I left the Hall. I felt the disappointment in the air, the heartbreak could be heard far from where the silly goose stood.
This was not part of my plan. Of course, I expected this in a way, which means that now I have to take everything into my own hands and chase Bartemius away as soon as possible.
