The Schooling of One Adriano Marianne Paisley,

also know as Adri,

Proud Daughter of the Slytherin House

Volume 4: Fourth Year, 2021

September 1, 2021

Dear Diary,

You could definitely say that my fist day did not go the way I expected. Let me tell you about it.

When I got to the Platform, I scanned it for a familiar face. In fact, I saw quite a few familiar faces, Malfoy, the Marauders, Zabini, and a few others, but I was looking for a particular familiar face. Luckily, my horrid parents (if you can even call them that; I usually refer to them as the sperm and egg donors, as I've met most of my own parenting needs, except for monetary needs) had just left it to the house-elf to bring me to the infamous train station. So I was free, free as a bird, to hang out with whomever I wanted, and be whomever I wanted, not a stupid, arrogant pureblood. Now, I just had to find that person, my best friend in the entire world, Albus Potter, son of Harry Potter, the Big-headed One himself. Only, Al wasn't big-headed, far from it actually. He was quite sweet, and was often too shy and modest for his own good, especially for being a Slytherin. We're notorious for having slightly over-large egos, though I've no idea why!

Anyway, I continued my search for my friend. A couple times I mistaked his older brother, James, for him. But, there were quite a few differences that you could tell them apart by: 1)James' hair was always so much more messier, because be never had actually even so much as held a brush in his hand, 2) Al usually had paint all in his hair and on his face, along with plaster and charcoal, because he's an amazing artist, 3) Only James walks like he's a drunk, and lastly, 4) Albus has amazingly green eyes that sparkle when the light hits them, like the little emeralds in the hourglass that keeps track of the Slytherin House points in the Great Hall and that are impossible not to get lost in... I mean, they're weirdly green, while James' are an ugly mixture of diarrhea brown and puke green, that mixedgrossly together to form an utterly disgusting shade of hazel. The two brothers share only surnames, some looks, and a love of pranks and quidditch. Though, Albus knows how not to get caught, while his counterpart seems to like to get in trouble. Albus' pranks are actually funny; James' are just plain stupid. Simple as that, nothing else to say on the topic.

But, back to me looking for my best friend. Finally, I found him. It had been since the week after Christmas break the last year that I had saw him, because my parents had decided for me to be an exchange student at Beauxbatons Academy for Witches in France to "get away from certain negative influences at Hogwarts". It was terrible, to say the least. Al was like a sweet, sweet feast for sore eyes, so for a moment, I stood and looked at him. He'd grown several inches since last time I'd saw him; he might have even been taller than me! He was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans, both spattered with different colored paint; Al rarely cared what his clothes looked like, so long as there wasn't blood on them. Sometimes, not even then. Yet, they always looked good, like it suited him to be slightly messy, as his hair was. Today, even his hair had a bit of green and blue paint in it. I shook my head at his stubbornness and called for my my friend.

"Oi! Raffie!" he didn't turn and kept pushing his trolley; he was probably trying to get away from his crazed family. "Rafael!" The prat finally turned, saw me waving, and grinned. Okay, I'd probably ought to explain the "Rafael" thing. Al was an amazing artist, especially with sculpture, so his hero was this Italian artist bloke called Michelangelo. Apparently, the bloke didn't like painting, only sculpt-ing, so this other Italian prat, Rafael, hated him. Rafael conned the head of the Catholic Church into hiring Michelangelo to do a huge painting job, the Sistine Chapel, thinking the bloke would do a crappy job of it, but instead, the Chapel turned out incredible, at least that's what Al says. So, Albus has never really cared for Rafael, nor his work, nor me calling him Rafael. Hence, that was my nick-name for him (he insisted that I call it a codename, because "nickname just sounde too girly. Yeah, he really can be that stupid.)

"Adri!" he called back, grinning like a loon, for Albus, of course.

"Did you really think I'd let you get away with not saying "hello" after not seeing you for eight months!" I called, mocking incredulousness. I began running toward my friend, forgetting about the heavy bags I was hefting, to give him a huge hug. He lifted me up off the ground and spun me around, causing me to realize how much stronger he must have also got during our months apart. Because of my strict parents, or the donors, I couldn't actually see Albus over the summer, only send letters,even though he was right behind us. Even that I was forbidden to do, but oh well. What my parents don't know can hurt them!

"How have you been?" he asked excitedly. "Were the kids at Beauxbatons as insufferable as I predicted?"

"No," I said, and at his raised eyebrow, I added, "worse. Much worse. Nothing could have prepared me for those stuffy, pompous prats!"
Albus laughed. "I'm so glad that Victoire didn't go there; she'd probably be even worse than what she is!"

"Most likely."
We kept om talking about anything and everything we hadn't put in our constant letters, and even some things we had, when a thin, little arm snaked around Albus waist, sickeningly slow, and a girl's head appeared on his shoulder. She had big blue eyes, blonde hair, and pink, pouting lips. Albus got a grin on his face, like none I'd ever seen before on him. Though, I had seen it on many other guys' faces; it was the grin of a guy about to get snogged by a pretty girl. I could barely contain my shock.

"Hey, Albie-Bear," she said in a pouty voice, into his ear. I could have retched right then and there.

"Hey Sasha," he said, spinning around to her, and she snogged him, eyes wide open, giving me a look that clearly said "Don't you wish you were me?" I almost retched again, and something else. I almost... no, I can't say it. But I'm sure that you could guess.

Finally "Albie Bear" realized that I was still there. "Oh, hey, erm," he said, nervously running a hand through his already messy hair. I put on an indifferent look, to cover up my tightening throat.

"Who's your friend, Albie?" the girl said sickeningly. She twined her fingers through Albus'.

"Erm, Sash, this is my best friend, Adriano Paisley," he said motioning to me. "Adri, this is Sasha Fairchild... my girlfriend. She's in our year, in Ravenclaw." He ran his hand through his hair again, something that I knew that he only did when he was nervous. But I ignored it, my throat feeling as though it might collapse from trying to hold back what I knew it couldn't indefinitely.

"Yeah, funnily enough, I figured out that she was your girlfriend. I am at least that clever, even if I'm not a Ravenclaw. The greeting was a bit of a tip off. Well," I said, starting to back away to grab my stuff, "I'd better get my stuff and get a compartment. See ya around, I guess," I said, as I turned and fled, grabbing my stuff as I went. And not a moment too soon, for the dam could no longer hold the flood. The tears came as I boarded the train.

I'm ba—ack! And in an even worse mood than before.

Even after the train began pulling out of the station, Al didn't come to find me. He was probably with Sasha Fairchild, or as I thought of her: The Spawn of Hades and Aphrodite, the two worse gods of Greek myth, in my opinion. But, it was quite fine by me; I didn't want him to. Though I had stopped crying, I must have looked something terrible, with mascara all over my red puffy cheeks. I had all the curt-ains to the hall closed, hoping that people would think that a couple of prefects were in here, shirking their duties, or something. I didn't count on anyone as insensitive as Malfoy and as meat-headed as Zabini to be on the train. But, of course, there was.

Someone burst through the door, with hair exactly like Scorpius. In fact, I almost called the person that, until I realized that the person was a girl, and buff enough to whup my butt if I did something she didn't like. Not only that, but she looked angry. Real angry.

"Go to h-e- double hockey sticks!" she yelled in a thick New York accent, making a rude gesture to someone in the small hallway. Only, she didn't spell out h-e-double hockey sticks. No, the weirdo said it in its full glory. Then she turned and saw me sitting there, looking at her in surprise, "What?" she said, quite rudely.

"It's you who came into my compartment. So shouldn't it be I who should be asking the questions?" I asked the scary chick, trying to sound more indifferent than I felt. And trust me, that wasn't much. This girl had muscles and looked like she'd seen plenty of fights in her time. Most likely, those fights had ended in her favor, too.

"Are you asking for a whuppin'? 'Cuz I'd be happy to oblige, if you want," she said. I very slowly shook my head no. "Good. Looks as though you've already been in a fight today, or at least been crying."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said haughtily, crossing my arms, and muttering a spell to clear up my face.

"Yeah, whatever," the not-so-jolly green giant said. Or blue giant, really. She had a blue and white shirt on, made of some sort of material that had holes all over it. She had a blue long-sleeved shirt on underneath it, and jeans. The hole-filled shirt, or jersey, as I later learned it was called, actually had the word "GIANTS" on it, written in big, bold, capital white letters. "Colubra," she said, leaning over and holding her hand out.
I glared at the hand warily. As a Slytherin, you learned to be wary of those who weren't in your House. Though, after the war, the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff Houses had got over differences, those Houses never seemed to be able to forget that the Dark Lord had come from Slytherin, along with most of the Death Eaters. They had no problem forgetting that the person who actually gave You-Know-Who a body was a Gryffindorand that Severus Snape, a spy for Dumbledore, who had played such a crucial role in the War was a Slytherin. No, people tended to remember things that made them feel good, and that meant that the Slytherins were even worse off than before. We were still the ones that you didn't want to be seen with, still the children of Death Eaters. Forget that the Minister of Magic is the daughter of the Dark Lord and was originally Sorted into Slytherin; eventually became a Gryffindor. The only way for a Slytherin to be accepted is to stop being a Slytherin, and instead become a Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or, heaven forbid, a Gryffindor. So, we learned early on to be wary of outsiders.

"Oooo-kay," Colubra said, taking her hand back, after my extended silence. "Guess you're another of the Potty-Weasel Clan. You do have red hair; I guess I'll be off."

My blood boiled at the thought of being a member of the "Potty-Weasel Clan". "Adriano Paisley, Slytherin, and definitely of no relation to the Weasleys or Potters, I can assure you of that!" I said heat-edly.

"Oh, so she does talk!" she said, pretending to clap. I rolled my eyes and grabbed my copy of this week's Teen WitchZ, rolled onto my stomach. I could already tell that I didn't like this girl, who I figured was an exchange student. That had got very big after the War, for young witches and wizards to study abroad. The government liked it a lot because it meant that we were gaining friends in case someone like the Dark Lord should rise again, we'd have allies. The kids found it a pain in the rear because most people (especially the French) were really snooty.

"Who are you anyway? I know septics don't usually share their surnames, but in Britain, we do," I said. "So how long are you going to be here anyway?"

"Well, first off, I don't have a heck of a clue what you mean by septics, but my last name is Malfoy," she spat out fastly. In fact, this girl seemed to have only one speed for her speech and that was fast. My eyes widened.

"Are you related to Scorpius Malfoy?" I asked.

"Do you know any other family of Malfoys other than us?" she asked sarcastically. "Yeah, he's my little brother."

"Oh, I can see the family resemblance!" I said. They both had the same big blues and almost the same hair color, except her's had flecks of red here and there in it, when the sun shone the right way, and the same pale skin. I picked my magazine back up and we rode the rest of the way to Hogwarts in silence, both taking up all of our seats. I just prayed the whole way that Albus wouldn't show up. But, I think part of me wanted him, too.

He never did.

When we got to the school, Colubra disappeared,and I was perfectly fine with that. She was ever so slightly annoying. But, of course, she was to be replaced with "Albie-Bear".

"What the heck was that all about?" he practically screamed in my ear.

"I think you forgot to tell me about something, Albie-Bear," I said coolly, and kept on walking, hoisting my messenger bag over my shoulder.

"Hey! Adri, wait!" he called, chasing after me. He caught up with me and grabbed my arm. Stupid prat; he was too strong for me to be able to break away from. "So you're angry about Sasha? That's it?" he asked, looking utterly confused. I almost apologized right then and thereat the look on his face, but I resisted temptation.

"You could say that," I said, guarded. "Why didn't you tell me, Al?" I asked, allowing a slightly hurt edge to enter my voice.

"Because of this!" he exclaimed, motioning frantically. He always had to talk with his hands. "I knew that you'd have a bad reaction to it!" I almost rolled my eyes. I could tell it was probably more about his manly pride and embarrassment that he hadn't told me. He knew that I would most likely make fun of him. But it used to be that we'd make fun of those kind of girls and guys, together. Now he was one of them, and there was no going back.

I punched him on the shoulder. "Good Salazar, Al! You're more complicated than Smith sometimes!"

"So you're not mad anymore?" he asked, an inkling if relief in his voice, that only I, his best friend could have identified.

"No, guess not," I sighed.

"Good," he said, obviously relieved. We put arms over each others shoulders and walked up to the carriages together, laughing and joking like old times. I only hoped it could stay like that, forever.

But, I really must stop writing now, for Albus, prat he is, is looking over my shoulder, trying to read what I've wrote, as usual. Stupid bloke.

A.M.P.

September 17, 2021

Dear Diary,

Turns out that Colubra girl from the train faked to her dad for 16 years that she was a Squib, just so that she could go to Muggle school, along with her brainiac sister, who concocted the plan. Colubra is in Slytherin, while Giselle, her twin, is in Ravenclaw. Why she didn't want to be a witch, I have no idea.

For some reason, Colubra has taken a liking to Albus, and has named herself his body guard or something. Since she's on the quidditch team as a Beater, the first girl ever to be on the Slytherin quidditch team, she and Albus have been hanging out a lot.

I don't think that "Sasha" really likes it, not that she likes much of anything that Albus does. She complains about him constantly, especially when's he's hanging around me or Colubra, or heck, any girl besides her, even his sisters and cousins. She even gets jealous when he's hanging around Professor Love-good, and she's his godfather's wife!

Like, now, they're fighting. Seems half the time they're fighting, and the other half they're snogging. This one is about him not taking her to Hogsmeade this weekend because he has quidditch.

"I just don't see why you won't take me to Hogsmeade! I am your girlfriend, after all!" She must point that out at least a hundred times a day.

"Because, I have quidditch practice!" Albus sighed, for the umpteenth time.

"You said that you would take me. If your going to say something, follow through on it!"

"The Captain just called practice!" Albus yelled. He hardly ever yells; so he must be really frustrated.

"So? Blow him off; tell him you already have plans!" Sasha said crossing her arms. Ooh, this should be good!

"Blow him off! Blow hi—" Al said, looking at her in shock, "Sasha, I can't do that! I could get kicked off the team! How would I ever be able to be a pro Seeker then? Or, heck, show my face in the common room, for that matter!"

"Fine, just fine," she said, shaking her head and grabbing her bag. "See you around, Albus." Duhn, duh, duhn! She did the "fine" line! That's never good.

"Ah, Sash, c'mon!" he called, running a hand through his hair. She just kept swaying those hips as she walked away from him, completely ignoring the poor guy. Butthole.

Albus came over and sat on my feet, where I was sitting on a bench. I yanked my toes out from under his butt and kicked him in the shoulder. He turned and gave me one of those lopsided grins that made my... I mean that made most girls' hearts stop. Hey, I'd heard talk. Apart from James Potter and Jayson Rivens, Albus, Scorpius, and Felix were the most sought after guys in the school. And the most oblivious, too, it seemed. They didn't even notice.

"Don't kick me," Al said.

"Don't sit on me," I replied, propping my toes up against his thigh. "What's up, Scruffy?"

"Ah, you know," he said, motioning to the departing figure of his girlfriend. "Sash wants me to go with her to Hogsmeade this weekend, but Duncan just called practice. We've got a Beater and a Chaser to train, and you know how anal Ratface is when we don't show for practice. He'd be ticked. I thought that Sasha would understand, but, obviously, she didn't take it too well. Sometimes I just don't understand her, you know?"

I bit my lip so as not to say "Just break up with the jerk already!" I instead popped him upside the head and said, "Well, that's to be expected when half your brain is filled with plaster, and the other half is dead from getting hit too many times by Bludgers and bad harms!"

He laughed and shoved me, and I returned the favor. Being around Albus was so, so, so... I dunno. It's good for me, I think, even if I do lose a few I.Q. points in the process.

All week has pretty much been downhill for Albus' and Sasha's train wreck bound relationship. The whole school has been waiting for its end, and let me tell you, everybody desperately wants it to come. And not just me, thank you very much. More people than I are worried about sparks flying from their many, many public fights and hitting innocent pedestrians in the head. And I'm ready for my friend to smile all the time again. Hopefully, it won't be long.

Well, I probably ought to stop praying for my friend's break-up and get started on this mountain of homework that I have. Al is already coming over here to ask for help on our History of Magic paper, as if I know anything about it.

A.M.P.

September 19, 2021

Dear Diary,

Since I wasn't doing anything on today, Saturday, I decided to go watch Al practice. I was wear-ing jeans, ratty, old tennis shoes, and my "GO SLYTHERIN" t-shirt, with the positions and names of the people filling those positions names scrolling down the back. Whenever I wore that shirt, Albus always joked that I was their biggest stalker. I would always respond to that by punching him and saying that I was their biggest fan. He would then roll his eyes and say "Whatever Adri. You don't have to hide your true stalker ways from me. I understand." Idiotic prat.

When he saw me, he zoomed over by the stands. "Hey, Adri! What are you doing here, stalker?"

"Oh you know, making notes on your all's each and every move, to be recorded in my little stalker girl note book!" I said sarcastically. He laughed. "Didn't have anything else better to do, I guess."

"Nice to know I'm liked by my best mate, Adri," he said, mockingly placing his hand over his heart.

"Oi, Scruffy!" yelled Rat-face. "Get your fathead over here!"

"Good Salazar, I'm comin', Ratface!" he yelled back, snatching the chocolate ice cream cone I'd been munching on out of my hands and zoomed off before I could swat him a good one upside the head. Stupid oaf. He ought to know better than to snatch my chocolate!

I stuck out my tongue at him, to express my disapproval, and grabbed my school bag. I had brought it out to work on some weekend assignments we'd been given, ones, I was sure, Al would be begging for at eleven the next night. I was counting on it, in fact.

What I wasn't counting on, was that Sasha would turn up, wearing a short little mini skirt, heels with green and silver striped stockings, and a form fitting tank that said "GO ALBIE BEAR!" She sauntered up to the stands, giggling and tittering and waving to Al sickeningly. I was sure that I'd began hack-ing up my breakfast any second. I suddenly wished that I hadn't had both the chocolate-chip flapjacks, and the French toast.

When Duncan saw who else had joined the stands, he wasn't exactly pleased. After all, Sasha was a Ravenclaw, the second opponent of the season, and the one viable to give us most trouble. Gryffindor shouldn't be too bad, since all of them were family, they were more often too busy arguing and bickering with each other to be bothered with playing the game. They weren't worthy of our House's time, yet we had to play them anyhow, so that we could win the Cup.

"Potter!" he yelled. "Go take care of your girlfriend, NOW!" I tried to hide my smirk, as Al flew back to the stands, looking both perturbed and embarrassed. He landed in the stands, and ran a few steps to regain his balance. He stopped in front his girlfriend.

"Sash," he began in a stretched, even, voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you, of course," she said in a much too high pitched and girly voice. "I just wanted to make sure that everything was alright, after our discussion two days ago."

"Sash," Al said, with a nervous glance behind him at his looming, growing angrier, team mates. "This really isn't the time. How about you sit right there," he said pointing to the seat next to me. I raised an eyebrow, which would he ignored. "And I'll talk to you right after practice. Kay?"

At first she didn't look as if she'd agree, but she eventually sighed, "Okay." Then she snogged Albus right in front of everyone, causing Zabini, Malfoy, and his sister to cat whistle. Albus jumped onto his broom and into the air, giving the three such a dirty look that I was amazed that all who saw it didn't incinerate them right then and there.

Sasha sat down next to me with a huff of disdain. She got out a compact mirror and a tube of pink, sparkly lipgloss and began applying it. Once she was done, she closed the mirror with a click that seemed to echo through the stands. Then she turned to me.

"You know, things with me and Albie have been pretty good," she said.

"Have they?" I mused. "Really?"

"Oh yes, quite," she said, looking at me as though I was dog crap on her shoe. "Al-Bear is great. In fact, I do believe we're in love."

"Oh really?" I said, again, the feeling to retch growing more by each second. Or, better yet, retch all over her. "How nice for you."

"Yes it is. I know we've only been dating for a few months, but hey, when it's love, time means nothing."

"Oh. Have you guys talked about me at all? After all, I have been his best friend since first year. I know just about everything there is to know about Albus Potter," I said, for some reason, feeling defensive of this chick. "I mean, if you two were to get married," I said mockingly, "I'd most likely be the best man,or woman of you will."

"I highly doubt that," she said, cocking her head to the side, like a snake does before it lunges. And lunge it did. "For me and Al-Bear have talked about you. He assures me that you are just a hopeless nobody that he feels sorry for, and that is why he hangs around you. A lonely Death Eater's child that has no one to talk to and is a major loser. Nothing more," she put her hand over her mouth, at the look of momentary shock and disbelief on my face. "Whoopsies, sorry Al," she said to the distant flying figure, "didn't mean to divulge your secret."

I won't deny it. I felt the tears welling up. My best friend in the entire universe felt sorry for me. He had betrayed me. I quietly gathered my bag and, once out of sight of that vicious viper, ran. I ran long and hard, tears coming at a free-fall. I kept running until I ran into someone, McGonagall. The headmistress of the school. But, right then, I didn't care, I moved around her and kept running, until a spell blockaded me from going further. I realized I was in the Forbidden Forest.

"Going somewhere, Ms. Paisley?" she asked, in her clipped, Scottish accent. She had once been head of Gryffindor House, and was very old, but other than that, I didn't know much about her, besides what Albus had said. She was the LaRose of her day, and very, very strict. He also said she gave the coolest Christmas present, which he knew because she and his dad went a long way back. She had even been asked to be Psyche's godmother, but she had declined, saying she was too old. But none of that applied then. I was in deep trouble, yet for the first time, I really didn't mind. My mind was still on that blasted quidditch pitch, with stupid Sasha and that prattish Potter.

"No ma'am," I said, glumly.

"Come with me to my office, please," she said, and I followed obediently. I ignored the jeers from the Gryffindors, who always made fun of my bushy red hair. They were the only ones stupid enough to do so. The rest had learned their lesson back in fist year.

McGonagall stopped in front of two lion gargoyles standing guard over an eagle statue, four times their size. "Radish plums," she said, waving her hands toward the eagle. It immediately sprang to life, revealing a spiral staircase. She stepped onto it while it was still going upwards, gesturing for me to do the same. One thing though, me and heights, not a good thing. That was the only reason that I never tried out for the quidditch team. I stepped onto the staircase, feeling queasy. I kept my eyes closed until it stopped moving. McGonagall opened the door.

The office inside was filled with intriguing objects, that twirled and whirred and made funny noises. Over by the fireplace, were two very comfy looking chairs and a rug, that was set aglow by the roaring fire. McGonagall walked over to her desk and took a seat in the high-backed chair behind.

"Well, sit," she said, curtly, waving her hand and making a chair zoom up to the desk, knocking me in it on the way. "Have a biscuit. Freshly made."

I gaped at her, before I remembered my manners, learned from my parents, through very harsh methods, meaning many thwacks on the head to beat my temperamental red head tendencies out. I took a bis-cuit, a chocolate one, and murmured thank you to the headmistress. I took a small little nibble out of it. I wasn't very hungry.

I was sure that I looked just wonderful. Dirty all over, wrinkled, ratty, old clothes, messy hair, that I hadn't even bothered with this morning, red, puffy eyes. The only thing missing was bird crap and I could be one of those ladies on the sidewalk, feeding the birds more often than myself!

"Do you wish to know why I asked you up here, Ms. Paisley?" she asked. I shook my head no. "There is something that you must know about, that I wished that I didn't have to report. But judging by the state you were in when I found you, I wonder if you already know."

I looked up, confusion etched on my face. What did this lady know about my personal life that I didn't?

"I guess then that you don't know?" she said, sadly. I shook my head. "Well... oh dear this is not easy... Your father has been taken into Azkaban Prison for torturing a Muggle, late last night."

I looked up at her in shock. Sure, I had never liked my dad, but Azkaban? Was my whole world com-ng to an end all in one day? I had always thought he and my mother weren't the best people in the world, but this? This was lower than I thought even possible.

"Erm... Is he awaiting trial?" I asked. "Do you know what will happen to my mother? Or to me?" I asked, each question sounding stupider than the last.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Paisley, I know no more than what the Ministry decided to divulge in this letter," she said, holding a piece of parchment up. "Nothing will probably happen to you or your mother, as you are both innocent of any legal crime," she rose an eyebrow, as though she suspected I was in on the prank war waged between the Marauders and the Silver Trio (Potter, Malfoy, and Zabini). "Your father has the right to a trial, as this is a major offense, and they have little hard evidence. But, it is not likely to be in his favor yet, as he is a known Muggle-hater. I'm sorry, Ms. Paisley," she said again. I nodded, feeling yet more tears springing to my eyes. Stupid things.

"I really ought to be off," I said quietly, rising slowly from the chair. I walked across the office and out the door before the Headmistress could say a word.

I went and got my little journal, that I am currently writing in, and went out to the lake. I sat and cried for a while. Why does this sort of thing always happen to me? I mused aloud, as the Giant Squid did tricks, as though to cheer me up. It had always loved the Slytherins more than anyone, for it saw us the most and we were nicest to it.

After a while, I calmed down, and began to write, as I am doing now. Since I am out of experiences of the day, I shall stop. Not to mention, Albus and Sasha are coming down here, and I really don't want to be seen by them of all people, in this state. No reason to give them more evidence that I'm just a lonely loser.

A.M.P.

September 30, 2021

Dear Diary,

It's been a full two weeks since I've spoken to Albus. I haven't gone that long without speaking to him while school's been in session ever. And yes, that is quite a feat, being as I have all my classes with him, and we have assigned seats next to each other for most of those classes.

I can tell that he's confused about the sudden lack of words. At least, towards him. When I'm around anyone else, then I'm as lively and boisterous as can be, just to make him jealous. I can also tell he's hurt by the sudden change. Well, he must put up a pretty nice show for a lonely loser that he just feels sorry for, then.

He and the viper are still together, still being sickening. Not much new there.

In fact, without Albus around, there isn't much new at all. The stupid prat has me missing him.

Well, I guess there is some new news. My dad had his trial yesterday. Convicted. Sentence of 3 ½ years in Azkaban. My mom's coping by disappearing to the tropics for a month, and getting a new face, or something. She told me that she'd be incommunicado for that time, no owls, no nothing. Real heartache to heal, I guess, no new money coming in for the next four years, so let's go spend it all on tropic vacation!

Uh-oh. Felix just flicked me a note, Albus sitting right next to him, looking nervous and confused. It's folded into a triangle. I glare at them suspiciously and open it.

Why won't you talk to Scruffy? He's off his game cuz of you—Fatty

What is this? First year? If "Scruffy" wants to know, then tell him to get his butt over here and ask me himself. Actually, tell him that he should know. If not, then tell him to ask some other lonely loser to be his friend. That should refresh his memory!

I folded the note back up and flicked over to the boys. I went back to writing, ignoring their whi-spering, heads together, as they discuss what Albus should do. The twerp's still bloody confused!

Oh, crap, here he comes...

A.M.P.

For some reason that Albus could not fathom, Adriano would not speak to him, heck, forget speak, she wouldn't look at him! He didn't get it.

So, he and Felix had concocted a plan to figure it out. Felix had helped because he didn't want anything to mess with their chances of winning the Cup that year, and Albus had been off his game ever since Adriano had decided to stop talking, for no apparent reason. Albus couldn't figure out what had happened to cause this sudden change, and he didn't like it. Not talking to Adriano was having the same effect as not having an arm.

When his plan backfired, he steeled himself to go talk to her. Their friendship was worth any jinxes she might throw his way. She was writing what Albus figured was a report. When he was still a few yards away from her, he stopped, feeling as though he was about to play his first quidditch game all over again. Only worse. He looked behind him, where Fatty was motioning him to continue by very noticeable and patronizing gestures. Albus glared at his "friend", who gave him an angelic smile.

Yeah, right.

Albus walked on until he was right in front of her.

"Yes?" she said, sounding annoyed. Finally, a word! For the first time all week, a word directed at him!

"Can we talk?" he asked awkwardly.

"Isn't that what we're doing?"

"I mean, privately?" he said.

"Oh, but, of course, the great Albus Potter can't be seen around losers the likes of me!" she said dramatically, getting up from her chair. Albus looked around confusedly at Felix, who merely shrugged, mouthing something about that time of the month. Albus tried to glare at him to hide his laughter. What a buttload of help he was! "Where shall we talk 'privately'?" she asked sarcastically. He had never seen her act so mean to anyone but the Marauders before. He just didn't get it!

"Erm, out here I guess?" he said questioningly, pointing to the door. She nodded and flounced away to the door, hips swaying, beautiful, wavy, red hair bouncing back and forth from the small of her back...

Albus shook his head and followed her out of the common room. After they had gone a ways down the dungeon corridor, she spun around, leaning against the wall and said sharply, "What?"

"You're asking me what?" Albus almost shouted. "You're the one who hasn't breathed one bloody word to me since quidditch practice last week! Just tell me why, please, I beg of you, put me out of my misery!"

"I don't need your pity, Albus," she said, making him more confused than ever.

"What pity?" he asked, thoroughly baffled with his friend's behavior.

"Oh, come off it," she scoffed, "Sasha told me what you said about me. That I'm a hopeless nobody, and a Death Eater's child that is a lonely loser and has nobody to talk to, so you feel sorry for me," she was crying as she said this. Albus, confused as ever, walked over to her and put his arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. "I said, I don't need your, or anyone else's for that matter, pity!"

"I am utterly confused, Adri," he said. "I've never said any of that. I don't know why Sasha would say that. Wait... When did she say that?"

"At that practice, while you were doing laps."

"What? This makes no sense at all," Albus said, rubbing his temples. He'd finally figured out what was up with his friend, but was more befuddled than before. "All that I've told her about you is that you're my best friend in the world, and that we do practically everything together. And that we're nothing more than really good friends. In fact, I've had to tell her that a lot..." Albus said. At the dawning look of realization on his friend's face, he asked, "What?"

"You dope!" she said, hitting him upside the head. Albus noticed that she liked to do that a lot. "She's jealous of me! She thinks that we're more than friends!"

"What? No way! There's nothing to be jealous of!" Albus said, completely oblivious to his friend's brief look of hurt. "So, we good then?" he asked, grinning at her.

"Yeah," she said, giving a small, shy grin, "we're good."

"Good," Albus said, putting an arm around her shoulders. She put her arms around his shoulders, too, and they walked together to the common room, where everyone cheered, because the common room would be lot more comfortable without Adriano's constant glares at Albus and the rest of the Silver Trio.