I'm Not Perfect | Seamus Finnigan

Parkinson

All day, as soon as I saw Seamus walk down the corridor, I quickly spun on my heel and found another way to my class.

"You can't do this forever" Luna said. "He just wants to apologize." 

"Why is everyone taking his side?" I snapped before storming off.

I'm already over my head stressed out by my O.W.L's. I put them off until this year so I could have extra time to prepare. I was supposed to take them last year. Dumbledore had cleared it. I'm taking a lot of classes, so I thought I'd need it.

I took the long way to class so I had to run to Muggle Studies. My feet pounding on the floor with each step, you'd think people would hear me coming. Nope. I slammed straight into something and fell right on my bum.

"Oh, look. It's Torret. Little miss perfection." I heard someone sneer.

"What?" I looked up.

Parkinson.

I rolled my eyes. She's always trying to poke at people. 

"What do you want Parkinson?" 

"You sat at the Slytherin table."

Like I said. Slytherins and their precious seating arrangements. "Seriously? You made me late to muggle studies because I sat at the Slytherin table?" 

"We don't need mudbloods like you at our table. You'll dirty it up."

I rolled my eyes and let out a mocking laugh, "Okay. One, I'm a pureblood. Two, I can sit wherever I want. And three, I have muggleborn friends. So I don't appreciate you saying that word." 

I reached for my book that she had picked up but she pulled it back.

"Don't make me hex you, Parkinson." I said.

"You know what I mean. Blood traitor."

"Now that one makes more sense. Still racist, but makes more sense. Now give me the book."

"I don't think so."

"Now." I said, "I'm late for Muggle Studies. I've never been late to a class before."

"Just another sign of a blood traitor. You're taking Muggle Studies."

"Give me back my fucking book."

She shook her head, "Nope. Not until you say mudblood. Go on, say it. M-U-D-B-L-O-O-D."

"WOW!" I exclaimed.

Confused, she raised an eyebrow.

"YOU CAN SPELL?"

She glared, "Say it now, Torret."

"Nope." 

"Okay, I won't give you your book back then."

"Holy shit, Parkinson. Are you always this annoying?"

"And where's the little Irish Scum? Oh wait.  ..  You broke up."

I narrowed my eyes, "Don't call him --" but I stopped myself. Why should I defend him? But I'll defend Cassie.

"Never call Irish scum. They're not. One of your own is Irish, in case you haven't noticed. Cassie Horan?"

Parkinson rolled her eyes, "Just say mudblood."

I whipped out my wand, "I WILL HEX YOU. I'M DONE PLAYING GAMES. GIVE ME MY BOOK."

She moved quickly, grabbed my wand and shoved me back down.

Draco whipped around the corner as Parkinson said, "How's your blood traitor mummy and daddy? I heard The Dark Lord is after them. They'll probably kill them slowly. Slowly and painfully."

Tears started to form in my eyes. I didn't like the thought of anyone I care about dying. Especially not like that. Not by the hand of Voldemort or any of his death eaters.

"SHUT UP PARKINSON."

"Ooh, did I hit a nerve?"

"HEY!" Draco shouted.

Parkinson whipped around. "Oh. Hey, Draco. I was just telling Torret here how her parents will die."

Draco took my wand out of her hand.. "That's my friend. Leave her alone, Parkinson."

My eyes widened. He had never called her Parkinson. Always Pansy. Her eyes narrowed. She chucked my book at me and it hit me in the face. 

"Holy -- Ow." I said, rubbing my cheek.

Parkinson stormed off in anger. Harry then arrived.

"I've got to get to class. You should have Madam Pomfrey look at that." Draco said, and walked away.

My eyes were so watery it was hard to see. I didn't want to let them fall.

"Emma, what happened?" Harry said, watching Draco leave.

"Parkinson."

I then told him everything that happened, and he hugged me as I cried.

'I guess it's horrible to know your family is in danger."

Harry wiped my tears with the back of his sleeve and said, "Let's get you to the hospital wing." 

I saw Seamus. He glared at Harry and stomped off.

"Shit." I said. 

He probably only saw him wipe away the tears. Not what Parkinson did. Or why I was crying. Then again, I should care. Right? I shook my head. It doesn't matter right now.

On the way to the hospital wing I asked, "Why aren't you in class?"

"I was actually trying to find you. I need some advice."

"On what?" I asked.

"Ginny."