This Can Never Be Real || George Weasley

Twenty one

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐫𝐬

I woke up I the sound of shuffling around my dorm, and I saw Isa, Alicia, Katie, and Angelina sleepily pulling their robes on.

Climbing out of bed, I shuffle over to my trunk and pulled out my robes, putting them on with a yawn.

"We better go down for breakfast so we have enough time to get our schedules," Isa said, dragging me out of the room by the hand.

Feed and George were talking in the common room, seeming to be waiting for us.

"We're going to be late," I mumbled, stopping to tie my shoe.

George ruffles my giant as we walked by. "Hello miss 'we're going to be late.' When did being late ever bother you, Zell?"

When we entered the Great Hall, the first thing we saw was Draco Malfoy entertaining his goons and reenacting fainting, and there was a roar of laughter.

"Hey Potter!" Shrieked Pansy Parkinson. "Potter! The dementors are coming, Potter! And they're out to get your daddy, Black! He'll be as dead as your mother soon enough! Wooooo!"

She cackled and I dropped into the seat next to Mazzy, who scoffed. "Don't listen to them. They're not worth it."

I sighed. "I know, but it still hurts. Those gits..."

"New schedules!" Katie chirped, handing us our schedules. "What's wrong, Zell?"

"Malfoy?" Harry Said, sitting down on my other side and glaring daggers at the Slytherins.

"Ah," Wood said. "Wasn't so cocky last night when he came running into our compartment. Nearly wet himself."

"You didn't faint though, did you?" Harry asked in a low voice.

"Forget it, Harry," George said calmly. "Dad had to go to Azkaban one time, remember Fred? And he said it was the worst places he'd ever been; he came back all weak and shaking... they suck the happiness out of that place, the dementors. Most prisoners go mad in there."

"Anyway," Mazzy piped up. "We'll see how happy Malfoy looks after our first Quidditch match," Fred nodded. "Gryffindor versus Slytherin, first game of the season, remember?"

"Yeah, but since Flint's still here and most of the team were in their seventh year, they'll have new players. Can't wait to see who..." I mumbled. "I'd love to see the look of Wyatt's face when I beat him. Oh my... and his sister can rub it in for me."

"I think I'll try out for Chaser," Mazzy said. "I mean, you'll need one since Alicia is dropping out to focus on her studies."

Wood smiled. "I think you'd be great. Make sure to be there for tryouts."

I gathered my things to go to Potions with Isa, the twins, Lee, and Mazzy. We walked into potions with Snape in his usual foul mood.

"Before we start today's lesson," he said, "I think it is appropriate to remind you that next year, next June, you will be taking an important examination during which you will prove how much you've learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Foolish, some of you undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your OWL or suffer my displeasure.

"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes to at OWL times. The Draught of Peace. This is a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: if you're too heavy handed with the ingredients, you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep. You will need tk pay close attention to what you are doing."

Isa and Mazzy got to work immediately, and me, the twins, and Lee stared at them indignantly. I looked at the directions and groaned.

"Follow them exactly," Isa said, hurrying over ti the supply cabinet to get ingredients.

After and hour of work, I finally did it, and wiped the sweat from my forehead.

"A light silvery vapor should be rising form your cauldron," Snape said.

Isa's and Mazzy's vapor were past that point, George and I's were coming along, but Fred's and Lee's potion was a strange green.

"I don't think you added the hellebore," Mazzy mumbled, peeking over at their potion.

I snickered and Fred set his head down on the desk.

I exited the class for Herbiligy, and I walked into the greenhouse and let out a small groan. Wyatt was sitting at the table we used to share, talking arrogantly to his friends in front of him.

"please sit in the same seats as last term!" Professor Sprout called to the class.

I sat next to Wyatt, and didn't bother greeting him.

"...the pus, when diluted, can be used as a treatment for persistent acne. Of course, when undiluted, it will cause boils to erupt on the skin upon contact." Professor Sprout said.

I quickly jotted down notes Ona price of parchment, and Wyatt began kicking my chair, and I rubbed my face disbelievingly. I dropped my quilt and looked at him. "Are you just going to keep annoying me for the rest of my life? I broke up with you. I don't want you in my life anymore, remember? Just leave me alone."

"You know," Wyatt turned to look at me, setting his quill down. "You really are just like your father. Craving attention, and always hurting people. You should've died like you fifthly mother in that chamber."

"I'm warning you to shut your mouth right now, Wyatt," I snarled. "I won't hesitate to knock your face in so hard not a word with come out of your trap ever again."

He scoffed. "You Mont do shit, you wanker."

Unaffected by his insult, I rolled up my sleeves and stood up . "No one cares what you think," I snarled. "Your opinions aren't wanted here. Your sister told me herself that you were so ruthless you made your sick mother do everything for you while you sat around and got fat. I have you a warning and you didn't listen, so this is what you get."

I pulled my hand back and slammed my fist into his jaw.

Professor Sprout looked over in commotion as Wyatt's blood dripped from his nose and mouth, and I stood over him, smirking slightly at the sight of him in such pain.

"What is going on back here?!" She yelled, looking at Wyatt, who was now clutching the side of his face. "Miss Black! My office, now! Mr Pierce, please have Mr Warrington escort you to the Hospital Wing."

I stood up and walked past the tables, but not before a brown haired boy whispered, "That was a good hit."

"Thanks," I muttered with a small smile. "He definitely deserved it."