Trying | Hogwarts OC student

chapter 33

The days that followed were fraught with tension for Alistair. Snape's scrutiny seemed to intensify with each passing encounter, and Alistair found himself constantly on edge, his temper simmering just beneath the surface.

In Potions class, Snape singled him out for every minor mistake, his criticisms cutting deeper than the slashes of a quill. Alistair gritted his teeth, determined not to give Snape the satisfaction of seeing him falter. Yet, the constant pressure wore on him, eroding his patience and resolve.

One afternoon, Alistair retreated to the library, seeking solace amidst the shelves of ancient tomes and the scent of old parchment. He buried himself in studying, the familiarity of academia offering a temporary refuge from the turmoil within.

But as the sun dipped below the horizon and the library emptied, Alistair's thoughts drifted back to Lila. He missed her presence more than he had anticipated, her absence casting a shadow over his days. Alistair's fingers traced absent-minded patterns on the table, his mind wandering to their conversations, her laughter, and the way she understood him without needing words.

Suddenly, Snape's voice shattered his reverie.

"Montrose," Snape's tone was sharp, cutting through the quiet of the library like a whip.

Alistair looked up, meeting Snape's piercing gaze with a mix of resignation and defiance. "Yes, Professor?" he replied evenly, his voice tinged with weariness.

Snape's lip curled into a faint sneer, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Your concentration seems lacking," he remarked coolly, his tone laden with thinly veiled criticism.

Alistair's jaw clenched, a surge of frustration coursing through him. "I'm doing fine," he retorted sharply, his words tinged with a hint of defiance.

Snape's expression darkened imperceptibly, his gaze lingering on Alistair with a silent challenge. "Fine is not good enough," Snape replied icily, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

Alistair fought to keep his composure, his hands curling into fists beneath the table. He could feel Snape's scrutiny like a weight upon his shoulders, the pressure to perform, to conform to Snape's rigid expectations.

As Snape turned and swept out of the library, leaving Alistair seething with frustration, he knew that their confrontation was far from over. The tension between them had escalated to new heights, a silent battle of wills that threatened to consume them both.

Later that evening, Alistair found himself pacing the corridors of Hogwarts, his mind racing with unanswered questions and simmering anger. The castle walls seemed to close in around him, echoing with the ghosts of his frustrations and insecurities.

He paused by a window overlooking the grounds, the moonlight casting long shadows across the stone floor. Leaning against the cool glass, Alistair closed his eyes, seeking a moment of respite from the turmoil within.

It was in that solitary moment that Alistair realized how much he yearned for Lila's presence. She had become his anchor amidst the storm, a beacon of understanding and acceptance in a world fraught with expectations and judgments.

Pulling out parchment and quill once more, Alistair began to write:

Dear Lila,

Tonight has been particularly trying. Snape's scrutiny feels suffocating at times, his criticisms relentless. I miss you more than words can express, Lila. Your absence weighs heavily on my heart.

Yours sincerely, Alistair

He sealed the letter with a sigh, knowing that sending it off would offer him a fleeting sense of relief. As Nimbus carried his words into the night sky, Alistair hoped that Lila would understand the depths of his struggles, even from afar.