Lovingly, not yours.

Chapter 9

"It's weird no matter how hard I screamed, nobody believed me. Not you, not him, no one. Your minds trusted the whispers around me more than the sincerity in my voice."

Chapter 9: "Flying lesson with snakes."

Hermione had returned later to see Odele sleeping on the desk with a tear stained face, yet the girl had no strength to ask her about it. Finding it rather nice that she was asleep,otherwise she'd have had to answer questions she wouldn't have liked hearing. She settled on her bed, covering herself with her blanket and tried to fall asleep. But the Gringott's break-in and Harry's words filled her with curiosity, her mind conjuring up theories of possibilities.

Odele shivered as the cold breeze tickled her nose, waking her up. She rubbed her eyes and shut the window partially and turned around to go back to bed, only to notice Hermione already comfy in her own bunker. She was agitated with the anger that was simmering in her like a cauldron with a cure for boils potion. Green eyes looked at the brown ones that were shut in hopes of falling into slumber, with a flicker of betrayal and anger in them which wasn't entirely justified at all.

With a huff Odele retreated to her bed, burrowing deep into the covers for comfort which she failed to gain considering her racing mind. There were countless thoughts in her mind that ranged from everything from Hermione's absence during the early minutes into the dinner and the indifference she faced in the library.

Was she a fool for having to wear her heart on her sleeve? But then again her mother always taught her to be that way, so that she can truly be herself apparently. Was this school actually any different than the one you attended back in Roslin? But can she even blame anyone but herself for her own emotions? Not Hermione, nor Blaise not anyone could be held accountable for what she was feeling, afterall it was her own mind and heart processing her vision of her surroundings... but expectations that we unknowingly build up for the people we interact with, why do they have be to let down like this? Odele wasn't one to be depressed, as she'd read on her father's notes that being depressed is a rather bad thing, an ailment of sorts. So she chose to let out her emotions, the people she cherishes, her Ma, Dad and even her brother whom she lists at the very bottom of her list, aren't there to be hurt right... so it's fine if she lets go isn't it?

Thus was born Odele's meanie version - the cranky and grumpy Odele. She was late to breakfast and indignantly at the herd of students hiding the notice outside the notice board. One would think they were selling free caramel toffees to them, and like bees hogging the honey.

Collective groans were heard in which hers was there too - 'Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday -- and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.' As if anyone from either house would ever be happy at that.

There was little that she could do other than running to the courtyard considering the time. Upon reaching she felt the gazes of everyone on her, almost silently scrutinising her for being late. Odele supposed she didn't like this either as she rolled her eyes and stood at the end of the lane beside Dean Thomas.

It was no brainer that the chatty blonde who was boasting about how he nearly once escaped muggles on a helicopter while flying with his father, was Draco Malfoy. The boy loved to boast about his family wherever and whenever he could, it was almost like his second nature at this point, to include at least one fact about his lineage.

Odele felt a weird sense of pity for him. Perhaps he wasn't heard that well back at his home, maybe he mustn't have had someone he could share his experiences with, that he tried to brag for attention this way. And considering that his family is indeed one of the sacred twenty eight families of the wizarding world, his upbringing must've been strict and oriented towards traditional thoughts of blood supremacy, that much was obvious from her first interaction with him.

The question is, why, or rather what would've happened in the past to have made him so insecure about himself that he relied on his last name to be everything that he is...

Every child with parents of wizarding lineage, pureblood, halfblood whoever, seemed to have some experience flying with the brooms, even Seamus Finnigan. But a few stuck out like sore thumb, Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom and Odele Burton. Harry's case was, despite the crudeness of it, understandable. Neville's granny and Odele's mother seemed to share the overbearing protectiveness, and well Odele being Odele loved her parents too much to ever even say a word against them, ever at all.

Her gaze swept around once again and landed on her roommate, Hermione. And the mini-lion that she liked was also as nervous as her bunch, but weirdly for some reason where she should've been a little happy she felt even more annoyed. Was the day responsible for her mood swings or the night before?

Madam Hooch arrived, the short grey hair and striking yellow eyes made an impact on the girl again, just as Professor McGonagall had.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Odele looked down to her right and found a broomstick that was nothing like she'd seen her father use, although rarely.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!"'

The students echoed her command and Odele was in glee when her broom came right up to her hand, fitting perfectly. She smiled brightly and glanced around the others, noticing that Harry's had come up as well. Giving him a quick and soft smile of appreciation, she averted her eyes around once again.

'Mione's rolled over on the ground each time she shouted at her broom and Neville well... it didn't move for him at all.

From the Slytherins however, Draco, Blaise and one other girl had managed to raise their broom as well. But as they were from the house of snakes, they couldn't stop snickering at the Gryffindors' failure.

Madam Hooch then demonstrated everyone on how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Madam Hooch slightly adjusted Odele's grip but overall said that she had a good stance making the girl's day.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle -- three -- two --"

"Woah-!" A soft gasp escaped Odele's lips when she did as instructed, it sure was wobbly at first but the stability that she had on the broom was astounding. Everything felt alive suddenly, the slightly cold air, the feeling of being afloat was growing on her. When she glanced down the world that was so big seemed small along the distance she was up in, despite it being just a few feet up. 

The gentle and crisp air. The afternoon sun and blue. It made her mind relax, her body felt like a cloud amongst the others, the soul so soothed it was as if she was free from everything. Nothing mattered in the air and it would soon become a thrill she'd live for. 

 Hi, thank you for reading. I'd love to read your thoughts on it and please drop a like as well. Much appreciated! Thank you!

It shall update every Wednesday, I look forward to reading your comments!

Once again I am sorry for the delay in the chapter update last *ahem weeks, hope you've enjoyed this one.

I wanted to attach a song to this one, but since one has their own interpretations methods I didn't want to mold it into any, iykyk. (but I can't resist so here you go! https://open.spotify.com/track/0X4YYZtZcvqNqYIpMd93IT?si=e2616029e2f14ee6)

published - 29.10.24