Motivation ⌁ Tom Riddle ✔

25

The entire class circled around the pink blotch - Stephen the closest with a fearful look on his face and his wand slightly pointed at it, shaking. Gasps and whispers and snickers broke out through the crowd.

It had been two weeks since the horcrux-hospital-Tom incident, and I was glad to say that neither of us had spoken or had much contact since. I was just done with him and there was nothing I could do or say to change anything.

I didn't see what Stephen's deal was. It was just a harmless bit of slime that crawled around on it's own. We were in Defense Against The Dark Arts with a substitute who was sitting at our original teachers desk -she had been ill - who hadn't cared what we did all lesson was reading a novel. It was like we were invisible to him.

"Are you aware, Weasley," Nora Parkinson started, a smug look on her face, "that this is a Defense class - not potions?"

Stephen's ears changed into the same color as the slime he had accidentally created and he laughed halfheartedly.

"Are you aware, Parkinson, that whilst our so-called substitute teacher is sitting on the other side of the classroom without a care in the world - that it was only natural for Stephen to practice his potions?" I said politely, to which she only growled back.

"Does it really matter?" Brianna scoffed, stepping in front of the circled crowd and bending down to inspect the slime. "Besides. I think it's cute, is it not?"

"No, Marshall," Billy shook his head. "Not really."

Brianna's face darkened and she stood quickly, staring hard at Billy.

"Oh, so we are on a surname basis now, are we?" she said sharply, inhaling. Billy spluttered. "Why didn't you say so, Lovegood?"

"Brianna..."

"Guys, we have a much bigger issue on our hands!" shouted a Gryffindor boy with hazel eyes and glasses.

"Actually, Potter, it's on the floor."

"I wasn't being literal, you idiot."

"What would you know about it, Potter?" sneered a Slytherin.

"Brianna, don't pick it up!" a girl squealed.

Brianna hugged the pink slime to her face and rubbed it with her eyes shut, cooing words to it. "He called me Marshall," she sobbed. "He called me Marshall. But you will not call me Marshall, will you? No..."

Emily and I exchanged looks.

A Hufflepuff girl pushed through from the back of the crowd. "Why is there a hobo on the floor?"

Avery laughed loudly.

"Brianna," Emily winced.

I looked back at the left side of the crowd.

"Eat it, Potter," Malfoy shoved the Potter boy.

"Yeah, eat it, Pottle."

"It's Potter."

I turned to the center of the crowd.

"Where did this freckle come from?"

A boy bent down to inspect the freckle on another boys back. He scrunched his face up. "It has a hair in it..."

"You might want to move, mate."

"Why?" the boy looked up.

"I'm about to fart."

"I still thought you liked me! How dare you call me Marshall! What if we were married would you call me Marshall, then?"

I glanced over at Brianna and Billy.