Wanna Be Saved

- SEVEN -

Chapter Seven
The Charms and the confused

Bronwyn had expected the first few days of classes to go moderately well. She had finished her summer work for once and was expecting to understand some of the material being delivered to them in their first lessons. That was the whole point of the summer work, otherwise what was the point of forcing herself to do it. Turns out that was not the case. She pondered if it was because she just wasn't smart enough, the people around her seemed to be understanding what was taught to them. Nobody seemed to be struggling to understand the writings on the board, the words spoken by the professors. They all seemed to be okay, keeping up making notes. Bronwyn had written the date and the title of the topic they were supposed to be covering. Other than that, the might have been talking to a brick wall. Nothing was going in and making any sense, and as she felt the whirlpool of her mind open up again, she wondered whether it was even worth coming back. 

What was the point of her being here, if she wasn't worthy?

It all compounded the moment she walked into the Charms classroom. Charms had always been Bronwyn's worst subject, she could never get on top of the basics, of the theory and when it came to the practical it was only on occasion that things seemed to go well. Hermione had tried her hardest to help the younger girl out, but it was quickly found that there was no hope. Not even the way she tried to explain it was enough to help Bronwyn understand. And twenty minutes into the first double period of the year she had effectively completely shut down. Her brain had wondered to a different location and she allowed her own thoughts to swallow her whole. She wanted anything else to be sat in the chair she currently was, the stiff wooden stool below her was uncomfortable pressing deeply into her skirt, the scraping of the professors chalk was enough to make her feel on the edge of tears. She was crumbling in the middle of the room, but no one around had noticed. 

She longed to be back in her library, in front of the crackling fire and surrounded by the smell she had yet to place. It was more than just the smell of the old books, of the deep rich ink upon their pages. If she were ever to find a person whom smelled like that exact smell, she would never let them go. She wanted the comfort of her blanket draped across her shoulders and lap as she took her time completing a few pages. A mug of hot chocolate gently cooling upon the table in front of her and the complete bliss of the tiny noise of the fire and no voices. 

Yet someone had noticed her complete lack of presence in the room. Two people, but only one would make it known to her. Professor Flitwick had approached her during the time he had allowed students to take notes from the board before they would attempt something practical later on in the lesson. He had taken notice of her lack of notes, her blank devoid stare focused upon the board. The board of which she had given up being able to actually understand, as she struggled to understand what words he had even placed upon there. No longer able to avoid the backwards letters and marks she could not recognise as true characters. The Professor quietly asking her to remain back at the end of the class. Something she needed to kick herself for, knowing that her disinterest in life, her inability to be the perfect daughter was already impacting her time at school and she had been there only a handful of days. 

And when the bell rang to indicate the end of the lesson, Bronwyn did not pack her personal belongings away. She saw no point rushing to do anything, nor to head towards the morning break understanding from the way her Professor had approached her that there wouldn't really be much of a break for her to enjoy. Rather she remained sat in the chair upon the second row in the class, cursing Hermione from picking this row to sit in, waiting for the rest of the class to trickle out. Some leaving much quicker than others unfortunately. Harry had left quickly not having paid much attention to her lack of packing, something of which Bronwyn was rather happy with noting that following the conversation in her dorm that the friendship between the two had become even more strained. Hermione had hung back, wanting to provide Bronwyn with support knowing just how nerve wracking it was for a teacher to want to talk to you. Only in Hermione's case it was never really for a negative reason in regards to her school work. The other person to stay almost until the point of it becoming ridiculous was Blaise Zabini. The Slytherin who had been seated on the opposite side of the classroom, in a place of which they could even make direct eye contact, had taken a very long time to pack his belongings away. He remained appearing indifferent to whatever else was going on around him, at first. But Bronwyn had noted the way he had looked over to her a few times upon discovering that she had yet to pack away. She wanted to brush this off as the strange aloof boy just being himself, but something else was trying to tell her otherwise. And therefore, she allowed him to do whatever he wanted she wasn't in control of anyone, not even herself.