The Tales of Black II (Original)

Chapter Ten: a Look into the Past and Future

[Chapter Ten]

I yawned as I stirred my cauldron for a moment. God, I was tired. I barely caught myself when I almost dropped a bat spleen into the concoction.

“Dammit,” I murmured as I set the jar back down. Terry whacked me over the head with his potions book and, startled, I pulled my shoulders back and returned to my regular height.

When I finished the potion and set the vile on Snape’s desk, I stumbled back to my seat and cleared away my things. I lay my head on the cool desk and felt it sooth my burning cheeks. The back of my throat was sticky with dehydration and every inch of my body was weak. 

I faintly heard the bell ring and I pulled my head up drowsily. Was it really worth getting up and walking all the way to the common room?

“Terry,” I moaned.

He laughed and pulled me off of my seat, hitching me on his waist like he would a small child.

I sniffled and buried my face in the crook of his neck.

“I’m so bloody tired,” I moaned.

Terry laughed and patted my back. “I know,” he said. “But that was our last class.”

“Thank God.” I yawned again.

In the common room, Terry sat me down on the couch and sat next to me. Me being still absolutely boggered, and fell lazily across his lap with a grunt.

“Pup, maybe you should go to Madam Pomfrey,” he said, “you really don’t look well.”

“No, I’m fine,” I said, scratching at the nape of my neck. “I’m just tired.”

“Yeah, tired is what it is.” He snorted. “I know you’ve been going off places in your sleep a lot more than you used to, and you know it’s dangerous. You can’t keep letting yourself do that ¾ you’re already getting sick.”

“What do you want me to do, Terry?” I demanded. “I can’t control it; I’ve never been able to control it.”

“Then try to,” he said simply. “I know you can do it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re you,” he scoffed. “You’re Lucy Black. You’re one of the best Beaters in the school, yet you’re the smallest. You’re top of our class, despite that you don’t even try in Divination. You bloody mastered full animagus form at the age of eleven. I know you can manage it, and you for some reason can’t, then I’ll take that bloody Beater’s bat of yours and ram it into your head.”

“Jeez, violent much?” I rolled onto my back and looked up into his face. I chuckled. “Bub, you have a freckle on the very end of your nose.”

He sighed at patted my forehead.

“Come on, Pup, I’ll carry you to dinner,” he said, grinning. I felt myself being pulled onto his back.

Why is it that I always travel by back? Huh.

He set me down on the bench at the Ravenclaw table and I smiled weakly.

“Oh, soup,” I said, stifling a yawn. I tried to ladle it into my bowl, but it splattered onto the table as my hands shook violently. “God dammit.” I growled, scowling at the pot. “You’re taunting me, you piece of shit.”

Terry laughed at ladled soup into my bowl for me. I grunted a “thanks” and picked up my spoon. From the Gryffindor table, I caught George’s eye and grinned. He glanced around quickly then chucked something at me. My hand shot up and caught it easily (thank God for my Beaters skills). Dungbomb.