Pt. 9

Hermoine's funeral came and went and yet another suicide disturbed the school. It was God awful. I didn't see it but Granger did, she so traumatized that she refuses to talk to anyone besides me. Now she knows how I felt, watching the end of someone's life and not being able to do anything about it. Yes- it's probably different for her because it was a teacher but still, the emotions are there.

In the few moments I did get something out of her more than cries and sobs she told me what happened. Professor brewed up a potion, one she says is similar to lighter fluid (whatever that is…) and gulped it down. It took an hour before she dropped dead cold but for her it seemed like minutes.

I'm supposed to be listening to Professor's side of the story but it's hard to follow. All I hear is blah, blah, blah; complain, complain, complain. Her life was easy compared to mine, the only thing that was really wrong was her schoolgirl crush on Albus Dumbledore… gross.

"I'm sorry she had to see that," Professor got my attention with a hand motion in front of my face. "Poor girl."

I nodded my head in reply, still processing the other information in my head. It was late and I was stuck in the Gryffindor common room- the last place I wanted to be. The fire was roaring thanks to an irresponsible Fred Weasley and soft music was playing by a jinxed harp in the background.

"How is Pansy?" Professor asked me politely with her hand on my shoulder.

I looked at her with a weak smile, "She's gonna be okay Professor McGongagall, she gonna be okay."