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7 / Serpent's Tongue

Willow couldn't shake the stirring feeling of illness wrestling in her stomach from the incident. Rumours spread fast and Willow was not ready for the negative attention: the looks, the questions, the teasing.

The anger boiling up in Willow showed itself in the fire beneath her skin. Oak knew of her efforts to hide her fairy inheritance, and here he shamelessly flaunts his winnings by bragging about it, announcing how it was all thanks to his fairy heritage.

She could faintly hear the surrounding students passing around the rumours of her. Their judging eyes following her and their whispering voices suffocating her. Her jaw tightened, and her fists clenched at her side. The people's glares and stares fueled her anger for her brother and her hatred for the purists. The anger pulsing through her veins pushed her faster forward, with every step she steadily picked up speed until she ran into someone, causing her to fall backwards and land solidly on the cold stone floor.

She blew the fallen hair out of her face, leaving room for her glares at the sturdily planted person standing between her, and her freedom. A slim boy with messy brown hair and circular glasses stood a above her. She immediately recognized Harry and dropped her hateful stare; Hermione stood at his side with surprise painted on her face.

"I'm sorry Willow, I didn't see you coming." Harry held out his hand to her to help her up. She took it with a tight smile, still tense with rage.

"It's okay, Harry." She brushed herself off. "Hey Hermione." She greeted briefly.

"Hey Willow." The frizzy haired witch responded with a friendly smile.

"Hey, congratulations on your win Harry." Willow's smile was more like an awkward grimace as she patted his shoulder.

"Thanks Willow, but it was nothing compared to your brother's, he was incredible." His admiring words made Willow's lips press together. She dropped her head with a clenched jaw, not wanting to relive what her brother had done.

"Hey, I get it. I know what it's like." Hermione said referring to her muggleborn status. "It's just the purest Slytherins that are being bigots. Ignoring them is the only thing that works."

Willow nodded although she disagreed, "As a Slytherin myself, it can be hard to avoid the 'bigots'." Willow said avoiding eye contact. I don't know how much longer I can ignore this, she thought. The idea of being untouchable by narrow-minded opinions and cruel words was a nice concept, but impractical. Quite frankly, Willow was done with tolerant silence. Whenever she heard the rumours, she wanted to tighten her fists and throw them at someone, anyone. Willow wanted to fight.

Harry gave her an encouraging pat, telling her it was nice to see her before she thanked them and walked away.

Willow took her time wandering the halls on her way to the library, with one thought stuck tenaciously on her mind: If only it was that easy.

>>> • <<<

Jordan, who had lost Willow in the crowds, couldn't find her in any of their usual spots, a fact that worried her. She wandered the castle looking for Willow until she found herself at the doors of the library, without a friend and without a comfort. Her worried searching left her cold and empty except for the heavy ball of dread resting in the pit of her stomach.

She entered the library alone, feeling slightly awkward without Willow at her side. She looked around for her, wondering if maybe she had already settled here, but the little fairy was nowhere in sight. Jo hesitantly made her way to the table occupied by Fawn and Tessa, who were already claiming the space with enough chairs for all six. To her surprise, they welcomed her with beaming smiles and joyful waves.