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first, renovations

Potter:
"WHAT
THE
FUCK?"

I am standing - as the only person in the whole classroom. Embarrassment waves over me. Twenty eye pairs pinned onto me.

"POTTER," Snape jumps up and rushes to my desk.

"Hold your wicked tongue!" His voice sounds explosive and his furious eyes pierce through me. It's dead silent. "You don't get special treatment because you're the Chosen One."

I didn't mean it like that.

He chuckles drily and looks over to the Slytherin table. "Our beloved Potter expects us to carry him on our hands. Can you believe that?" The room fills with nasty laughters. My gaze searches and finds Malfoy who's - to my surprise - not laughing. He seems worried. The others at his table are though. Anger rises within me.

"That's not why I spoke up." I hold my head up. Although I feel like running away.

"Why should we, all of us,..." My eyes wander around the room and catch someone's gaze occasionally. "...sleep together in the Great Hall? Why are you doing the renovations right now? Couldn't have you done during the holidays?" I recognize some approving nods. The laughters die.

"Potter, I didn't decide that. You can argue with Dumbledore." Snape turns his back to me. „Until you bravely fought for our freedom to sleep in our dorms, we are going to do as Dumbledore & I say." Stating this sarcastic he makes his way to his seat. I sit down rolling my eyes.

Shit. Now we really gotta sleep in the Great Hall - all Houses together.

Hermione rubs my back encouraging. I smile at her wearily. I'm tired of his endless games. Luckily, the bell rings and releases us from the torturing lesson.

We walk to our rooms to pack our things. I sigh.

„It's not gonna be that bad." Hermione tries to comfort me. „We'll only have to sleep there + we can pick the most private place there is." I nod but it doesn't prevent my mind from spiraling. I hate sleeping with other people in the room especially with strangers. Sometimes, when my nightmares & panic attacks come over me, I scream and cry in my sleep. And I'm quite frankly ashamed by that. I haven't even told anyone about it - simply because I don't want to talk about the reasons behind it. It's too much of a contrast to the image of a hero that everyone sees instead of me. I nervously bite my nails and open my door to start packing. I don't own much so I'm done quickly.