Her hand raced across the blank paper, filling it with ink that had no purpose other than to rid her of her frustrations. The thicker parchment didn't feel as comfortable to her as the thinner pages that she had learnt to write on in her primary school, despite the fact that the Purebloods mocked her for it. Her essays were still written in the standard parchment and ink as the professors had requested, but her notes didn't need to be, and she wasn't about to change what she favoured just to be popular.

Because she knew that they would only find something else to mock and tease her for. If it wasn't her preference for Muggle equipment, it would be her glasses, or her hair, or her clothing. She had never been popular, even in her primary school where people went out of their way to make her life miserable.

The hope that things would change in the world of magic (where anything could happen, she was told) had disappeared after the first week. Her Muggle upbringing hadn't taught her the perfection of the Purebloods who had been nurtured and taught everything they needed to look as perfect as they did. She had searched for the spells within the library, and had found a few but nothing that would help her.

She would have to buy specific books for that, and Myrtle knew that her parents would never be able to afford extra books just because she wanted them. They were only barely able to pay for her second (or maybe even fourth hand, by the look of some of them) books. Besides, they constantly insisted that it would get better, that eventually she would find someone who would accept her as she was.

So far, Myrtle had no such luck. There was no person that was willing to look past her exterior, not even the other Ravenclaws who were known for putting their desire of knowledge above physical appearance. They didn't bother wasting their time on the likes of someone whose knowledge didn't help them improve themselves.

Oh, how she wanted their perfect hair and skin, their beauty, perfect everything that she couldn't hope to match. She didn't have any of the things that seemed to matter to everyone else. Wealth and beauty weren't her traits, and so it was assumed that she didn't have any positive traits, even though she lived every day learning to ignore their taunts and just persevere. She hadn't entertained even the traces of those thoughts that haunted people who thought their lives were awful.

It was all so pointless. There was no one who would care whether she finished her years at Hogwarts or not. Myrtle knew that her parents would have preferred her staying in the Muggle world with them, and that option was becoming more and more appealing with every passing taunt and jibe. She would probably go into the annals of history for being the most useless magic wielder ever born.

"It happened again; what do I do?"

Myrtle glanced up for a moment, eyes settling on the pair of figures at the table down the aisle from her, before wincing. Maybe not the worst magic wielder, though. At least her wand didn't spark when it wasn't supposed to, despite being bought off a second-hand store in what she had learnt was Knockturn Alley.

Seeing her open Transfiguration textbook on the table, Myrtle sighed, reminding herself that she had been in the middle of studying before she had been interrupted. This had been her decision. She was the one that had wanted to try something different, and hold on to hope that she never should have had.

This wasn't her world. Myrtle could feel her eyes heat up, blurring the words on the half-chewed page of her Transfiguration book. Her world was the one with the Muggle wars, and countries backstabbing each other. This world with creatures, sentient and not, hating each other, warring with themselves and each other: it wasn't hers. It had never accepted her, just like she had never accepted it.

But here she was, her Transfiguration exam in less than a month, and yet she couldn't transform her life into something she wanted it to be. She knew so much (more than enough to pass the exam) but not nearly enough to make her life better.

Human-to-Animal Transformations weren't going to help her. They were interesting, certainly, but she wouldn't be able to turn Olive Hornby into the toad she really was. She couldn't transfigure the rest of Olive's friends into puppies for the Slytherins to kick in their spare time (not that she would want to make those miserable Slytherins happy either). It would be good practice, but she wasn't like those Gryffindors who were able to make up excuses on the spot.

Wiping her eyes quickly, lest someone come walking past (even though she sat in a secluded part of the library, there were several people who would seek her out for their own amusement), Myrtle was once again reminded of her purpose in the library. Her essays were spread out on the table in order of when they were written, each containing additional notes that she had added in pencil.

For now, she couldn't disappoint her parents. They were the only people who supported her no matter what, and tried their best to understand their wayward daughter. She would do her best for them, even if her best was nowhere near as good as most of the other Ravenclaws.

It took her two tries to cast the Privacy Ward she had read about a week ago, and Myrtle smiled, pleased. It had taken her five only yesterday. She was getting better at it, and she would continue using it until she could put up the Privacy Ward to perfection on the first try.

For now, though, she could continue practicing the Inanimate-to-Animate Transfiguration spell without anyone seeing her. It had taken her nearly an hour to successfully cast it last week. Hopefully she could get it down to five tries or less by dinner, but even cutting down the time by ten minutes would be a success!

The page of her previously upset scribbles lay on the table in front of her. Pointing her wand at it, she quickly thought back to the wand movements described in her textbook (she wasn't going to look, that would be cheating!).

The page wouldn't transform into anything bigger than a mouse, but that was fine for now. Anything bigger would draw attention to her since even the Privacy Ward had its limitations.

She only had one more week to improve her Transfiguration, and make the only people who mattered proud. Myrtle was determined to accomplish her goal, where she had almost failed every year before.

Transfiguration wasn't going to be just a passing grade this year.

Written for Quidditch League Round 2: Wigtown Wanderers - Transfiguration

Chaser 3: Write about someone preparing for or writing an exam

Prompts: XYLØ – Afterlife (song); "It happened again, what do I do?" (dialogue); scribbles on checkered paper (image)

Word count: 1150