Trying | Hogwarts OC student

chapter 8

Skipping Classes

The morning after the brutal attack, Alistair woke up sore and bruised, but his determination burned brighter than ever. He lay in bed for a few moments, collecting himself, before getting up and carefully inspecting his injuries in the mirror. There were dark bruises forming on his ribs and a split lip, but nothing seemed broken.

He dressed quickly and made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. The atmosphere was tense, and whispers followed him as he took his seat at the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy and his cronies glared at him from across the hall, but Alistair ignored them, focusing on his food.

After breakfast, he met Fred and George Weasley near the entrance hall, where they were already hatching their next plan.

"Morning, Montrose," Fred greeted him with a sly grin. "Ready for a day of adventure?"

Alistair nodded, a sense of reckless defiance fueling his actions. "What's the plan?"

George chuckled. "We thought we'd give the library a miss today. How about exploring the Forbidden Forest?"

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that a bit risky?"

Fred shrugged. "Exactly. Besides, we've got something to take the edge off."

With a mischievous twinkle in their eyes, they led Alistair out of the castle and into the grounds. They wandered through the grounds, avoiding the gaze of the caretaker and other professors. Eventually, they found a secluded spot near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

George pulled out a small pouch from his robe and grinned. "Muggle contraband. Something to help us relax a bit."

Alistair hesitated for a moment, then nodded. The tension and pain from the previous night made the idea appealing. They sat in a circle, passing around a joint, and Alistair felt the edge of his anxiety soften. For a brief moment, he forgot about the bruises on his body and the troubles waiting for him in detention.

As they sat there, sharing stories and laughing, Alistair felt a sense of camaraderie that he hadn't experienced in a long time. The Weasley twins had their own reasons for rebellion, and Alistair found solace in their shared defiance against the rules and expectations of Hogwarts.

Hours passed in a haze of smoke and laughter, and before they knew it, the sun began to set. Reality crept back in, and Alistair's stomach twisted with apprehension. He had detention with Snape tonight, and he couldn't afford to be late or unprepared, especially after yesterday's altercation.

Reluctantly, they extinguished the joint and made their way back towards the castle. The effects of the weed lingered, but Alistair felt a strange sense of calm amidst the chaos of his thoughts. The pain in his body dulled, and he focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

As they approached the castle, Fred clapped him on the back. "Thanks for joining us today, Montrose. You're turning out to be quite the partner in crime."

Alistair managed a weak smile. "Thanks for having me."

They parted ways near the entrance hall, and Alistair made his way down to the dungeons for his detention with Snape. The dread settled back in as he approached Snape's office, the events of the day catching up with him.

Snape was already waiting when Alistair entered, his gaze sharp and unwavering. Alistair braced himself for another round of punishment, but Snape surprised him with a knowing look.

"You smell like smoke," Snape remarked coolly.

Alistair met his gaze evenly. "Do I?"

Snape's lip curled slightly, but he didn't press further. "Sit down. We have much to do tonight."

As they began their tedious task of cleaning potion ingredients without magic, Alistair's mind was clouded with a mix of defiance and the lingering effects of the weed he had smoked earlier with the Weasley twins. Despite the consequences he faced, a surge of reckless confidence still pulsed through him. He was no longer just surviving at Hogwarts; he was starting to carve out his own path, consequences be damned.

Snape's gaze fell upon Alistair, his expression darkening with disapproval. "Your conduct today was utterly reckless, Montrose," he reprimanded sharply, his eyes narrowing as they flicked over Alistair's bruised and battered face.

Alistair met Snape's gaze defiantly, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he struggled to maintain composure under Snape's scrutiny, the effects of the weed making his emotions heightened and his reactions unpredictable.

"Smoking on Hogwarts grounds is a severe breach of school rules," Snape continued, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. "And associating with those Gryffindor troublemakers only compounds your foolishness."

Alistair's defiance wavered slightly under Snape's harsh words, but the weed-induced euphoria kept him anchored in a state of rebellious nonchalance.

"Say something, Montrose," Snape demanded, his tone cold and commanding.

Alistair chuckled under his breath, the sound tinged with defiance. "Why should I listen to you?"

Snape's eyes flashed dangerously, his patience wearing thin. "You will learn, one way or another, the consequences of your actions."

They worked in strained silence for the remainder of the detention, each clink of glass and scrape of metal echoing in the tense atmosphere. Alistair scrubbed at the cauldrons with unrelenting force, his mind drifting between moments of clarity and the hazy euphoria of the weed.

As the night dragged on and Alistair cleaned under Snape's watchful eye, he couldn't shake the feeling of being adrift in a sea of consequences. The weight of Snape's disapproval hung over him like a storm cloud, but the lingering effects of the weed provided a temporary shield against the harsh reality of his situation. Deep down, however, he knew that sooner or later, he would have to face the repercussions of his actions, weed or no weed.