The next morning, I sat alone at breakfast, poking my eggs with my fork. I felt like just about everyone was staring at me, and whispering to each other.
"I hear that her family hates her," A Ravenclaw girl whispered to her friend as they walked past.
"I hear they plan to put her in St. Mungo's because she's insane," She replied.
Had that bee true? Did my parents really think I was crazy enough to be sent away? There was no way they possibly could've thought such a thing about me. Not my own parents.
I sighed, and looked around at everyone. Most people were glancing towards me, and at someone at the Gryffindor table. I followed a Hufflepuff boy's gaze, only to see that he was staring at Harry, who was staring at me. When he realized that I had caught him doing so, he quickly looked down.
With a small sigh, I stood up, got my timetable from Snape, and headed to my first class: Defense Against the Dark Arts.
When I arrived in Umbridge's classroom, I was relieved to find another two Ravenclaw students already there. Professor Umbridge was sitting at her desk with her hands folded, and a smug expression on her face. Her eyes didn't leave me as I sat down in a seat, and placed my wand on my desk.
The two Ravenclaw students stared at me, whispering, just like everyone else was doing in the Great Hall. I shifted nervously in my seat, and did my best to ignore them.
After a few more minutes, more and more people filed into the classroom, finding seats. I could tell that they were trying to avoid sitting beside me, not that I really cared. I didn't like most of those people anyway. Eventually, all the other seats were filled, leaving only the one beside me empty. Unfortunately, that seat was filled by the one person I didn't want to fill it. Harry James Potter. We didn't speak to each other at all, probably because we didn't have the chance to.
"Good morning, class," Said the snobby voice of Professor Umbridge. I rolled my eyes, and looked up at her. She pointed her wand at the chalkboard, and began rambling about O.W.Ls, which the fifth years would be taking at the end of term.
I wasn't really listening to a word she was saying. I was off in my own little world, thinking about my life as a normal girl. A girl who wasn't able to talk to animals, who wasn't wanted by Voldemort, who actually slept at night. No wonder Harry was always so miserable. He was just like me; misunderstood. Maybe that's why I fell in love with him in the first place. I still love him, as a matter of fact, even though I was still angry at him.
I was snapped out of my trance by a thump! when a book landed in front of me. 'Dark Arts Defense, a Basic for Beginners.' Beginners? We were in our fifth year! I began to wonder what books she was giving the first years. Coloring books? Hermione began to question the book automatically, as the rest of us flipped through it.
"No one could possibly learn from this book," I mumbled to myself.
"What was that, dear?" Umbridge asked me.
"N-Nothing..."
"She's probably talking to herself, like how the crazy people in St. Mungo's do," Malfoy sneered, causing everyone to snicker.
"You would know that, wouldn't you, Malfoy? Is that where you've been all summer after I beat your a--?"
"That's enough you two," Umbridge scolded us, causing us to fall silent.
"What use is a 'theoretical knowledge' if we're attacked?" Harry blurted out.
"It's no use," I answered bluntly.
"Oh, Mr. Potter, let's not be silly, hm? Who do you think would want to attack children like yourselves?" The toad-faced professor asked, giggling quietly.
"I don't know, maybe...Lord Voldemort?"
Almost everyone gasped. A few girls shrieked, and Neville fell out of his chair. Harry and I were the only ones keeping a hold on ourselves. Umbridge looked bewildered for a moment, but quickly plastered a smug grin on her face, and sighed. "Now let me make this quite plain. You have been told that a certain dark wizard is at large once again. This. Is. A. Lie."
"It's not a lie! I saw him, I fought him! Tell them, Violet!" Harry raged.
"Detention, Mr. Potter!" Umbridge snapped.
"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory died on his own accord?" I seethed.
"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident!"
"IT WAS NOT! VOLDEMORT KILLED HIM! YOU MUST KNOW THAT--"
"Enough!" Harry was cut off by the woman in pink, who seemed well fed up with our "lies." I was gritting my teeth, and clenching my fists so tightly, that my knuckles turned white. If looks could kill, Umbridge would've dropped dead. "See me later, Mr. Potter. My office."
