𝓓𝓸𝓾𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓓𝓮𝓿𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼 - [EDITING]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂

"I- I can't talk about it right now." Oliver's voice cracks pitifully as he speaks, turning his head away. He had refused to change out of his scarlet Quidditch robes ever since we'd lost to Hufflepuff, which was apparently quite the scandal for Gryffindor who was supposed to be known for their Quidditch team.

The rest of my apology is whisked away faster than Harry's broom was carried off by the wind. My jaw falls and I gape at him. "What?" The Brit in me takes over and the word comes out as 'wot.'

"Don't you have ears? He doesn't want to talk to you, just leave him alone, Gwenog." Himari, who sits curled in a velvet arm chair in the corner of the common room, butts in. My name sounds foul on her lips, emphasizing the end as 'ugh' rather than 'awg.'

We'd managed to avoid each other most of the time so far- she stuck to the dorm while I ventured out with my boys and I stayed out late while she hit the hay early on- but today she just happened to be right within earshot. Oh, what I would give to wring her perfect porcelain neck.

"I don't recall asking you to get involved. And it's Gwen. Just Gwen!"

Himari withdraws in surprise, her salmon pink lips forming a perfect 'o.' She casts me one of those up-and-down glances and says, "I was only trying to help. I can't stand arguments. No need to get defensive."

"Arguments?" I huff. Isn't she one to talk? "We're not arguing! I was just apologizing for- for something that wasn't even my fault!"

"Gwen, calm down." The look in Wood's eyes is nothing like the way he used to look at me. Instead of admiration, there's a spark of alarm and... disgust.

I throw my hands up without thinking. "Calm down? You want me to calm down? I didn't do anything! You're the one throwing a tantrum because dementors blew the match! Besides, I wouldn't even have been able to make us win! If you should be pouting at anyone, it's Harry, not me!"

Himari gasps. Another spectator in the common room makes a choked sound and then a blur of dark robes vanishes through the portrait hole. We really should not be discussing this here, in such a public place, but my anger has gotten the best of me and I have no control over my tongue or any logical thinking skills at the moment.

"Gwen, what are you talking about?" Wood is absolutely appalled at my outburst and I immediately wish I could take it back. "It's not Harry's fault he's got trauma in his past. His parents were murdered in front of him for Merlin's sake. You-Know-Who tried to kill Harry too!"

So none of the rest of us have any reason to be traumatized? No one else matters? Smoke blossoms out of my ears and nostrils in nearly tangible plumes. "Well, I'm sorry you ever chose me for your Quidditch team! I'm sorry you were ever under the impression that I had talent. What does it matter anymore? I resign."

The last words and spat through clenched teeth, immensely satisfying by the looks on both Wood and Himari's faces. I swing the portrait hole open and storm out, ignoring the Fat Lady's outraged protests about being polite and not frightening her so much. When she sees my face, she shuts right up.

I don't feel like tickling any pears and certainly not storming back in there to hide in a dorm- my own nor the twins'- so I march down the stairs and through the hall to the library. Even the staircases seem to feel my fury radiating off me as they play no tricks and let me right where I intend to go rather than moving around for the fun of it. Even Peeves, who swoops down from his chandelier perch to meet me, steers clear of me after a harsh, "Not. In the mood."

When I slip through the grand mahogany doors of the Hogwarts library, I don't even bother glancing around and instead plop my things onto the closest table and wander into the maze of shelves in search of something to put my energy towards instead of this. Something to take my mind off it.

The feeling of insignificance rises in my belly like waves of a flood and threatens to drown me, suffocate me within my own mind once again. I can't take it anymore, not today. A part of me knows that the outburst was wrong and I'll surely regret it, but it felt good to scream. It felt good to release all the pent up emotion, even if it was just a sliver of all the things locked inside.

My forehead rests on the spine of a potions book and I suck in its scent, letting the musty sweet fumes sink into my lungs like a drug. One that lulls you into peace and leaves you addicted to the escape it provides. Escape from reality. A moment of peace. Even just one moment in this bloody screwed up world is worth more than all the Galleons in Gringotts.

I force myself off of the bookshelf and study the book with obnoxiously bloodshot eyes. The worn, brown cover reads, 'Potion Opuscule' in elegant gold lettering. Rather than putting it back, I keep the book tucked beneath my arm and grab another. By the time my arms are full, I have everything from 'Magical Drafts and Potions' to 'Practical Potioneers.'

With my books in tow, I plop back down at the table I'd claimed and fish some parchment and a quill from my bag to take notes with. If I'm going to be dedicating my time to anything, it might as well be useful and help me to stop my father.

By the time I'm at last interrupted, I have a few pages worth of information on every memory spell and ingredient that could be used in a potion for forgetting.

"You are in here!" Fred is immediately hushed by the librarian while George snickers at his misfortune.

"When 'Mione told us, she'd seen you come in here," George adds in an attempted whisper, "we thought she was crazy."

"Our Gwen. In the library."

"Hard to believe, innit?"

"Yet here you are!"

Madam Pince gives the three of us a pointed glance. "If you can't be quiet, I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Now you've got me in trouble," I mumble at the pair as I sweep my things into my bag and stack the books into a nea- pile. The three of us slip outside and the boys don't waste a second trying to subdue their naturally bold voices, both greeting the open air with overexaggerated sighs of relief. I ignore them and ask, "Did you get the ingredients?"

"Sure did!" George flicks his sleeve and taps two vials out onto his palm to show me the goods they nicked from Snape's cabinet.

"Brilliant," I mutter monotonously.

Even with my long, quick strides, the gangly boys have no trouble keeping up with my pace. "So... are you going to tell us what we missed-" Fred begins.

"Or," George finishes, "are we being left in the dark?"

"Preferably the first one. Georgie still needs a night light to sleep."

I sigh, but know I can't keep anything from these two, nor would I want to. "I've ruined everything. Ol- Wood won't even look at me anymore and I might have hurt Harry's feelings and my fath-"

I stop short, just in time, and see two figures on the steps to the Gryffindor tower where I'd subconsciously been leading us. Their hands were entwined and they didn't need to turn around for me to know exactly whose silky black hair was resting on the scarlet robed shoulder. Somehow that was enough to contaminate the boy who I might have been growing feelings for.

Oliver and Himari look mighty cozy. Not the pair I would've expected, but a pair nonetheless.