The Black Sheep | George Weasley

Fourteen

She packed her things and was soon back at platform 9 3/4. Draco left her to join his friends soon after saying goodbye to their mother. Lyra didn't say a word to her father, only mumbling an apology that her mother forced out of her.

She boarded the train and watched Katie and Alicia join Angelina instead of her. They were laughing hysterically. The Weasley twins were swamped with children wanting to buy their inventions off them. They had so many things on display. People practically threw money at them.

Lyra joined the prefect compartment. She sat near the wall with a book called A Mediwitch's guide, she bought it while her mother wasn't looking. She got engulfed by the pages as the train ride progressed. The twins walked the length of the train, selling their goods. Lyra noticed George looked quite handsome this year, but she forced that out of her mind.

Lyra remembered last year, how she felt his burning into her flesh. The way he looked flustered when he realized he was spotted. He was so embarrassed. His friend and brother teased him. Lyra didn't really have a run in with him since. Occasionally he'd glance at her, but not much was said. If he wasn't asking her to bet on a champion, there wasn't much interaction.

Though Theo Nott seemed to try and be more friendly, but thankfully Draco seemed to keep him in line and away.

Lyra glanced up and noticed Granger and Ron Weasley sitting in the same compartment as her. How had she not noticed? The two were quietly bickering as she was trying to read and he was obviously bored. Other prefects were chatting and laughing about their summers.

Lyra worked hard not to grow eager to ask about George or her friends. She tried to still be really engulfed into her book.

"Mediwitch? Don't you have loads of money?" Ron asked her. "Why work?"

"Ron!" Hermione gasped. "That's incredibly inappropriate!"

"I-It's okay," Lyra staggered. "It's no secret. I want to be a healer once I graduate."

"A Malfoy as a healer?" Ron seemed sceptical. Perhaps because he believed no one would want to be treated by her. They'd see the name and run. She hated to admit he had a point, but she swallowed that thick truth and continued to be in denial.

"Excuse me," She spoke up in a whisper. She sat her book aside and left the compartment. She drew a long sigh as if she was getting fresh air. She continued down the aisle, trying not to fall on her face.

She glanced into one to see Angelina Johnson with Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet. They were laughing and looked like they were enjoying themselves. Her heart sank into her stomach and her shoulders felt heavy. Her hand ached as if her father had freshly broke it. She shook her hand vigorously. They glanced over and seemed she ruined their fun as they grew sober. She wanted to smile, to say something, but her words got stuck in her throat as she opened her mouth. She just rushed farther down the aisle as she could think about what they were saying. Talking about how she wasn't a good friend. That she was just like the other Slytherins, two-faced.

She rushed to the toilets. She locked herself into the small room. She looked into the mirror, she looked at herself as her heart was racing. She was having a panic attack. She clutched her aching chest as her hands shook and she suddenly could hear everything all at once. Her breathing grew heavy.

She looked into her eyes as they started to fill with tears. Her hand wouldn't stop aching. She leaned over and vomited into the sink. But she didn't feel any better. She wiped her mouth and tried to wash the mess from the sink, her throat burnt with stomach acid. She was making herself sick. She wished to jump from the train and fall to her immediate death. Anything to escape this hell.

There was loud banging on the door. "Hurry up!" It was a boy.

She rinsed her mouth out and smoothed down her dress before opening the door. It was some fourth year boy. She scoffed and pushed past him. She felt very agitated. She walked towards her compartment. She was ran into the door of another as students exited a compartment.

"Oi, watch it." She heard a boy say. "Sorry about that."

She looked over to meet George Weasley's brown eyes. Her stomach clutch again. She felt pure anger from the embarrassment, students began snickering.

"Watch where you're going, muggle-lover." She stomped down the aisle fuming. She reentered her compartment and sat down with a huff. Guilt worked it's way through the anger and disgust with herself settled. This school year would be hell.

Getting to Hogsmeade train station was a relief. Lyra grabbed her luggage she took on the train, it had an extension charm on it so she didn't have to carry two trunks this year. She rarely gave the new prefects a glance as she left with the herd.

She didn't care who she joined, she wanted to get out of there. She fiddled with her robes as it was too dark to read and she didn't feel like it. She looked at her lap as other students laughed and chatted. Cho Chang being one of them. She mainly listened as she was still grieving Cedric's death. They all were. Lyra couldn't imagine what Harry was going through. If the Dark Lord is back... That meant Harry saw him. Of course she couldn't admit he was back. It was a secret and everyone was making Harry look like a liar, which didn't sit well with Lyra, but she couldn't do anything about it.

Joining the welcome feast was nice. She got a few new Slytherins to show to their new common room. She glanced at them as they were greatly excited. It was a rare amodity for a muggle-born to be sorted into Slytherin. Lyra hadn't witnessed it in her years at Hogwarts.

She noticed the pink woman who resembled a toad. Her amount of pink was sickening. Lyra didn't have a good feeling about this professor either. She squirmed in her seat as Professor Unbridge looked her way with a fake smile. She was a half-blood, though she'd never admit it. One of her parents was a muggle. Yet she hated them. How could she? She half of one. She supposed internalized purism. It's sad.

She interrupted Dumbledore's welcome speech, which made Lyra tweak her eyebrows. She took the stage, making the air thick with awkwardness. "The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited." Lyra only heard what she was here to remain order and not have any of the faculty or students mention Voldemort or anything related to him. Most of all, it's to keep Dumbledore in check. Lyra didn't like her. She could tell she was evil. She knew evil, she was the daughter of a death eater. "I know we will all be great friends."

"Ah, yes, thank you, Professor Unbridge." Professor Dumbledore injected, clapping his hands but no one followed. He continued to introduce her as their new professor.

Soon the students were allowed to eat once Dumbledore reiterated warnings and rules for first years. Lyra tried her best to eat but it was hard when Zoe looked at her as if she was the devil- no- a muggle. She wanted to kill her. She knew Lyra told. Zoe wasn't allowed near her and Lyra was given a new room, but she knew she would still be tormented.

Her two best friends were talking and chatting. They never glanced at her, at least not when she looked at them. She longed for them, but then her hand ached, a reminder than she can't. She took out her hand again and tried to not cry. She felt so alone, so alienated, even at her own table she was a stranger.

After the feast she showed the first year's to the common rooms, talking about the rules and answering questions. She then showed them their dormitories. They all looked giddy and excited. She used to be too.

Lyra then went to her new room with girls she didn't know, they stopped talking and looked at her without a friendly look. They watched her as she went to her bed and grabbed her silk pajamas.

She heard whispers, but she tried to ignore them as she went to the toilets to get ready for bed. When she returned, they stopped talking completely once again. She bit her tongue and crawled under the warm covers and closes her drapes. She could hear them giggling again. She stared at her ceiling as her hand tingled strangely. It was an invisible force keeping her in check.