Golden Daffodils

by songintheglaciers

Jo had always been aware of the fluttering warmth breathing in her middle since her reincarnation. How it thrummed, mirrored her emotions and heeded her every intention. So when an eerily familiar tall, prim woman garbed in emerald robes of a fabulous and decadent velvet enters her home, she never imagined she'd reincarnated in a fictional world she barely knew anything about.

32. Thirty-Two

"I believe it's your manners you've forgotten, Malfoy," Jo clipped, dark brown eyes sharp as she held Neville's scarlet Rememberall away from the Slytherin.

"Excuse me?" He furrowed his brows, offended, and Harry and Ron jumped to their feet. As if Jo would let this escalate into a fight.

"Oh, yes, of course, you are excused," the brunette exclaimed apologetically, catching Professor McGonagall on her way from the corner of her eye. "Please leave."

"What's going on?" The witch arrived like a flash.

"Malfoy was just reminding Neville he'd forgotten his robes," Jo answered steadily as the Slytherin sloped away, returning to Neville scarlet Rememberall, now turning back into white.

Professor McGonagall studied Jo for a moment before walking away, leaving the four to gape at her.

"We've flying with them in the afternoon, remember?" She murmured, eyes still fixed on the white device. "You don't know what they'll do. Especially chicken arms."

Someone spluttered.

But all Jo could think about for the rest the morning was the Rememberall. How it had been scarlet in her hands.

Did she use it wrong? Or was there anything important she had forgotten? Names? Faces? Previous memories? Is that why the ache had faded since? Because... because she was forgetting them? Despite all her efforts? All the constant drawings and quotes in her sketchbook?