human again / hp.

Chapter 25

The early morning sunlight spilled through the dormitory windows, casting soft golden light across the stone walls and wooden floorboards. Dust motes swirled lazily in the warm beams, giving the room an almost dreamlike quality. I stirred beneath my blankets, momentarily tempted to sink back into their cozy embrace. The muffled sounds of my roommates beginning their day drifted through the quiet, a reminder that staying in bed wasn't an option.

Lavender Brown hummed cheerfully as she sifted through her trunk, the sound blending with the soft rustling of fabric. Nearby, Parvati Patil remained cocooned under her covers, muttering something incoherent in her sleep. I moved slowly, careful not to disturb the fragile peace of the morning as I dressed. My uniform felt crisp against my skin, the Gryffindor crest gleaming in the sunlight.

My thoughts wandered to the previous night. Harry and Ron had finally arrived—late, disheveled, and accompanied by an uproarious tale of flying cars and the Whomping Willow. The Gryffindor common room had buzzed with excitement as the story unfolded, laughter and awe rippling through the crowd. Even Professor Snape's acidic reprimands couldn't overshadow the spectacle of their daring arrival.

But I had kept my distance.

In the Great Hall, I had watched from the fringes as Hermione embraced them with a mixture of relief and exasperation. In the common room, I'd lingered by the fire, silent and detached, as the story spread. And in that fleeting moment when Harry's gaze met mine from across the room, I had turned away before the weight of his emerald eyes could settle on me.

The memory made my chest tighten, but I shook it off, tying my hair back with quick, precise movements. Grabbing my bag, I slipped from the dormitory and into the bustling corridors of the castle.

The trek to the greenhouses was brisk, the crisp morning air biting at my cheeks. Dew clung to the grass, glittering like tiny diamonds under the rising sun. My breath clouded in the cool air, and the sound of students chattering filled the path ahead.

Draco was waiting near Greenhouse Three, his pale hair catching the light as he stood with Crabbe and Goyle, who loomed beside him like overgrown shadows. His smirk widened as he caught sight of me, waving me over with exaggerated cheer.

"Morning, Celeste," he drawled, his tone dripping with mockery. "Ready to embrace your inner gardener?"

I met his gaze evenly. "Always." My voice was cool, neutral—a practiced deflection.

The other students gathered gradually, forming loose clusters near the greenhouse. My attention strayed to the edge of the group, where Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood together. Hermione was in her element, gesturing animatedly as she explained something about Mandrakes. Harry listened with polite interest, but his eyes flickered toward me briefly. The brief glance sent a flicker of warmth through my chest, but I quickly turned away, pretending to listen to Draco.

"Look who finally made it," Draco said loudly, his sneer aimed squarely at Harry and Ron. "Flying cars and crashing into trees—how very heroic."

Crabbe and Goyle guffawed on cue, but I didn't join in. My silence didn't go unnoticed.

"Nothing to say, sister?" Draco prodded, raising an eyebrow.

"It's too early for theatrics," I said smoothly, shifting my bag on my shoulder.

Before Draco could press further, Professor Sprout appeared at the greenhouse door. Her oversized hat sat askew atop her head, and her face was alight with enthusiasm. She clapped her hands briskly, her cheery voice cutting through the morning air.

"All right, everyone, inside! We've got a fascinating lesson today."

The greenhouse was alive with the earthy scent of soil and plants. Rows of peculiar flora lined the tables, their leaves and vines stretching eagerly toward the sunlight streaming through the glass. At the center of the room sat a cluster of small, leafy plants in clay pots, their tiny green leaves trembling faintly.

"Mandrakes," Professor Sprout announced, clapping her hands together. "Can anyone tell me what they're used for?"

Hermione's hand shot up immediately. "Mandrake, or Mandragora, is used to return those who have been petrified to their original state. It's also quite dangerous. The Mandrake's cry is fatal to anyone who hears it." she said, her voice steady and precise.

"Exactly! Ten points to Gryffindor," Professor Sprout said with a warm smile.

Draco leaned toward me, muttering under his breath, "Of course she knows. Swotty little know-it-all."

I bit back a smile, not trusting myself to respond without giving something away.

Professor Sprout handed out earmuffs, her instructions brisk. "Mandrake cries are fatal when mature, but these seedlings are only dangerous enough to knock you out for a few hours. Still, earmuffs on, everyone!"

The muffled world of the earmuffs dulled the chatter around me. Following Professor Sprout's lead, I gripped the leaves of a Mandrake and gave a firm tug. The soil gave way, and the writhing root emerged—a tiny, humanoid figure with wrinkled skin and a mouth open in a soundless wail. Its limbs flailed wildly as I transferred it into a larger pot, its cries vibrating through my hands even if I couldn't hear them.

Next to me, Draco played with his Mandrake, causing it to bite his finger.

I didn't show a reaction, focusing instead on patting soil around the Mandrake in my pot.

The lesson passed without major incident, though Draco seized every opportunity to taunt Harry and Ron. His barbs grew sharper as the class ended, but they ignored him, their expressions set in quiet defiance.

As we exited the greenhouse, the cool breeze swept over us, carrying with it the faint scent of damp earth. Hermione's gaze caught mine briefly, her brown eyes questioning. I hesitated, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on me, but before she could say anything, I turned away, following Draco and the others back toward the castle.

Each step felt heavier than the last, the ache in my chest growing harder to ignore. I told myself it was better this way—cleaner, simpler. But as Draco's voice filled the silence, drowning out my thoughts, I couldn't help but wonder if I was convincing anyone, least of all myself.