Outcasts

10

"So wormwood is basically just a shrub of wood?"

"Precisely"

"Oh, I think I've got it now. So when you add an infusion of that and a powdered root of asphodel you get the Draught of the Living Death, which is a powerful sleeping potion"

"Exactly. I knew you had brains to figure it out"

"Very funny"

"Well I should get going. See you tomorrow, Harry"

"Goodnight, Hermione"

Harry stayed behind as she left, and didn't notice his friend getting looks from the Ravenclaws. He was too busy working on his essay due the next day.

Once she was out of her favorite place in all of Hogwarts, she began to sense more people than those in the library.

By the scent of cologne that was too strong, she knew right away it was Slytherins. A bit of honey was nearby, signifying Hufflepuffs.

Whispers weren't even secretive nor quiet, as if they didn't try to hide their opinions. To her werewolf infected ears, though, it made it louder than it needed to be.

"Hey, where can I support the charity for ugly?"

She did her best to ignore it, and all the other rude comments they wouldn't stop blabbing about. But the moment she felt gravity pull her to the floor, she couldn't take it.

Her hands reached for her things, and she stood up to leave. She would run away if she had to, she didn't care.

Once again, she was pushed down. It caused a cut on her lips, but they didn't notice nor would they care.

"What are you? A rodent or a coward? Either way you'll still scram. All freaks do" laughed a tall male. She knew from living there for all her life that he was the Quidditch Team Captain.

There were a few first years looking at her from the side, not doing anything. Not joining them. Not stopping them. They just watched.

Then she heard it from a distance. The prefect, the Gryffindor prefect's voice. Percy Weasley, bragging that he's prefect all the time. He was headed her way, hopefully saving her.

"You reek of Gryffindor. It's not just your face, is it? Let me fix that"

She wasn't exactly sure what they did, but next thing she knew she felt like her insides were crushing against her ribs.

"Hey, Patrick? What was that muggle thing you kept arguing about?" She wasn't sure what was going to happen, but she smelled hand sanitizer. Pieces went into place as she realized what they were going to do.

"Here, Marcus" she heard the muggleborn say. Next thing she knew she was on her back and hand sanitizer was poured on her face. It got in her eyes somehow, and it made it even worse than the pain she already felt where her scar was.

She didn't want to give them the pleasure of screaming. Hint word being want. It couldn't be contained as she just expressed how badly effective their actions were.

They only laughed as she was crying helplessly on the floor. She didn't notice them running away nor the voice of a fifth year asking if she was alright. Her ears were too busy hearing the rest of the castle.

But a small sniff made her sense Minerva. She felt bad for arguing with her earlier.

"Shh. No one's going to hurt you. You're safe" she heard her whisper. She slowly opened her now-okay eyes and saw her guardian.

With tears now forming and beginning to stream down her face, she hugged her. She knew no one could ever compare to the witch.

"You need to rest, little moon" she heard her voice say.

She pulled away from the hug and went to change her clothes before going to bed. Luckily, the next day wasn't the same.