Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", only my original characters.
Trigger warnings: bullying and past suicide attempts.
Chapter Seven: The New Potions Partner
The unhappiness and hardly contained tears were as evident as the yellow and green liquid that had exploded in Myrtle's face, courtesy of her latest potion-making. Not daring to look at Professor Slughorn's disappointed face, the Ravenclaw desperately tried to ignore the sound the snickers from the other students. Her number one tormentor was whispering insults, some girls also laughing and gossiping over Myrtle's disastrous concoction.
"How could that small little thing explode like that?"
"Who can be dumb enough to not know the difference between devil's root and monkshood?"
"She's such a disgrace for Hogwarts."
"A failure, that's what she is: a failure!"
JUST STOP, PLEASE! Myrtle tightly shut her eyes and blocked the voices with her arms, but in her mind the voices would never stop, which would lead her to the usual spiral of grief and depression that Azure – she had only recently started addressing the Slytherin girl by her preferred nickname, showing that Myrtle trusted her more than she had ever trusted anyone, save for Minnie of course – didn't know.
What would her friend say about thinking of throwing herself off the Astronomy Tower, the dangerous thoughts of self-harming, some of which Myrtle had decided to act upon them and as a result, Madam Burnett had spent months nursing her back to health, the thin marks on her wrists and arms forever a reminder?
Why wasn't I born normal like my family! She screamed, pushing away a pair of haughty periwinkle blue eyes and a pale face framed by perfectly combed wavy hair that belonged to her "perfect sister" Holly Victoria. Myrtle was always mentioned in comparison to Holly. She saw through all the polite smiles her family put on their faces.
Keane was the exception; after confiding in him she was attending Hogwarts, he had replied that he too was aware that magic existed but this had been kept secret from their family. His employer Monsieur Delacour was a famous wizard who maintained a cordial relationship with non-magical people and some well-known supernatural creatures. He was also a teacher at Beauxbatons Academy, a magical school located in France.
In the letter, Keane had advised her to not try too hard and to have some fun at times; to study was important but health always came in first. Myrtle's eyes were teary after she read the whole letter, gently holding the monochromatic moving picture depicting her brother and his fiancée.
Myrtle's happiest time was when she was with Grandpa or with Keane. Her brother did not favour either of his sisters over but Myrtle liked to think he loved her more; it was Keane who had offered her the silver crucifix Myrtle always wore under her uniform and also the person who had offered to buy a new owl for Myrtle after her companion had died from poisoning in her second year. During that year's Christmas Holidays, she had remained holed up in the bedroom, crying all by herself while her sister was busy with the choir and piano lessons. But on Christmas Eve, Myrtle had hugged her brother with a strength she didn't know she possessed, inwardly cursing the day her Arithmancy Professor appeared in Beaufort. Keane had stayed with her until she stopped crying.
In the end, Myrtle was afraid of dying. To make things worse, suicide was very frowned upon in her family. Her grandparents firmly believed that witchcraft was "the Devil's work"; since she was a witch, Hell was her only choice for her Soul to go after death.
But Keane would be so sad…
A scene of her childhood appeared on her mind, depicting a much younger and broadly smiling Myrtle riding on her brother's back, her small hands pulling his messy fiery red hair. Holly was not there; this memory belonged to Myrtle and to her brother alone.
"I did not ask to be a witch! I HATE IT, I HATE IT ALL!" The words left her mouth before she could realize it. Opening her eyes again, not caring if there were tears streaming down her face, Myrtle saw Professor Slughorn with an unreadable expression, arms behind his back. The entire classroom had fallen into silence, except for the murmurs of the Potions Professor, eyebrows now slightly furrowed. After what felt like an eternity, the pudgy man placed one finger under his chin in contemplation.
"Perhaps this could work for Miss Orren."
The mistakenly pronounced surname was no news for Myrtle; Professor Slughorn only bothered to address correctly his best students and on private occasions, calling them by their first name. Those students were part of the "Slug Club". In that case, he would never get their names wrong. Professor Binns had this habit as well; the Ghost had called her "Warner" more times that she could count.
"Miss Fortescue, you will pair up with Mr McBraggen."
As if on cue, the pretty blonde girl with light blue eyes who used too much make-up for a class gracefully rose from her seat next to Myrtle's, going to join the sandy-haired – his name was actually McLaggen – who had a bored look on his half-sleepy face, but not before sending her previous partner one last disdainful sideways glance.
"As for you, I think I have the ideal partner…" Her Professor's eyes trailed to the opposite corner where Myrtle was, finding the girl from Slytherin who unsurprisingly was sleeping on the desk. Not even her partner was trying to wake her up.
Myrtle could only ask herself how on earth the girl managed to sleep through class and have stellar grades in Potions and Transfiguration.
"By Merlin's beard…Miss Ashlane!" Professor Slughorn's reprimanding voice started to echo throughout the room, making the dark blue-haired girl instantly stand up straight.
"Sir."
"From now on, you will pair up with Miss Orren…"
"Warren," Myrtle muttered, half expecting him to not remember her proper name.
However, a couple of seconds later, Professor Slughorn cleared his throat. "Oh was it Miss Warren?" Myrtle gave him a tiny nod before casting her eyes down, hands on her lap. "As I was saying, Miss Ashlane, you will help Miss Warren to the best of your abilities which I am sure this will not prove as much of a challenge as it appears to be."
Azure respectfully nodded and as soundlessly as possible, she picked up her materials, the small pouch before sitting next to a still puffy-eyed Myrtle who had stopped crying, her sullen look replaced by an incredulous one. The Slytherin merely produced a handkerchief out of her cloak, which Myrtle shyly accepted.
"Mr Riggs, on the other hand, will join with Miss Ashlane's former partner, Mr Flint." From the corner of her eye, Myrtle saw Lance Higgs take his seat next to a corpulent boy with dark brown hair. "Now, shall we continue?"
And with that, the class resumed where it had stopped, Azure's advice and guidance proving to be far more worth than Myrtle's partners of the last two years.
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