Chapter 2
I don't like to eat in the Great Hall that much since it would mean actually sitting with my housemates. My mom decided that after all the bullying from the previous three years she would pack a ton of tub-a-ware in my trunks. This morning I was particularly hungry after hearing Millicent Bulstrode and her friends gab nearly all night about the announcement of the Triwizard tournament champions last night, so I decided to grab some breakfast and go. I walk up to the very end of the Slytherin table closest to the doors, makes for a quicker get away, and pull a container out of my bag, big enough for eggs, bacon, and some toast. After silently filling the container I close it up, place it in my back pack.
"Look, she thinks she's too good to sit and eat with us."
I turn towards the middle of the table and see Crabbe with a half-smile, half-sneer pointed at me, along with Goyle and other dunderheads with their noses scrunched up as if they've smelled feces that's been trapped in a box for a few hours and finally opened. I roll my eyes at them and when I hear a voice I know all too well,
"Good riddance, we wouldn't want her defiling our house any more than she already is. Isn't that right, Draco?" Pansy Parkinson squeaks as she clings to Draco Malfoy's arm. He looks in my direction without actually looking at me before looking back down at his plate in an impassive manner.
"As if, she's not good enough for anything. She just knows that she doesn't belong here. I don't see why that stupid hat put her in our house in the first place," he sneers before looking at me in the eye. Half of the Slytherin table laughs as I leave with my breakfast, trying to hide the hurt from Malfoy's comment about me not being good enough.
Since it's a Saturday, I angrily march down to the Black Lake and sit beneath a tree that grows alone close the edge of the water. With a huff I aggressively chew my breakfast and look out onto the water, letting the sounds of nature calm me down. After a few moments of peace, my skin begins to crawl as I sense someone nearby. There is a rustle in the branches above me and I smile.
"Good morning, Luna. Enjoying the view?" I look up and see my closest, and probably only, friend. I met Luna Lovegood back in second year when I was running from the castle towards the lake after Marcus Flint had called my mom a filthy muggle whore and told me that we were both better off dead. She was just like how she is now, hanging upside down among the branches in this tree. She had offered me what no one else at Hogwarts had, compassion, and a few licorice wands. Since that day, I have always come to this tree when in need of company and friendship and Luna has been there every time.
"Good morning, Aicela. The view is rather nice, not many nargles about today. No flapjacks today?" she asks in that knowing tone that she uses when she hints that something is wrong. I've always been intrigued by her uncanny ability to say something without actually saying it, indirectly making it the topic of conversation.
"No," I sigh heavily, "today's more of a toast day."
"Pity. Perhaps if it were quiet like it is now, it would have been a flapjack day."
"Perhaps, come down here. I've brought you some toast too, you know." Luna gracefully moves from branch to branch before she lands softly beside me. She reaches into her bags and pulls out a licorice wand and offers one to me in exchange for the slice of toast I hand to her. We eat in silence for a few minutes before she speaks.
"You shouldn't let them get to. They're just unsure on how to interact with you."
"I know, I know. My mom always says that silly phrase about sticks and stones, but sometimes what they say actually hurts." I stare at the lake and how the water seems to shine, reflecting the sun light before looking at Luna. She's fiddling with the necklace her mom gave her before she passed away and I look away from her face, feeling strange as I think about what it must feel like to lose my mom. While deep in thought about life without the only family member that's been a constant in my life, I gaze down at Luna's feet and notice that her feet are bare. I frown as I recall that some of her house mates have been pulling pranks on her as a form of amusement. I let out a frustrated groan and look at Luna's face.
"Doesn't it bother you? They're your bloody house mates! You would think that they would have some decency to not act like jerks just because you're different."
"I suppose you would think that," she says as she raises an eyebrow to remind me that I've vented about my problems by using hers to cover mine, again. And with that comment, I lose my appetite.