Transfiguration class passed uneventfully, except for the fact the
Prof. Granger kept stealing my glance and making me feel unruly weird. As I
had been sitting there, trying to turn my pillow into a looking glass
(which I was doing quite unsuccessfully), I thought of the stories Dad had
told about his school days. I found it unearthly hard to believe that this
woman had been part of those stories of courage and friendship, but then
again this was only the first day of classes, maybe things would get
better.
Things did not get better. If anything, they were worse. Along with her giving me those looks, she gradually began to ignore me, even when I made an outrageous mistake (on purpose, of course).
My friends had yet to know that this was troubling me, yet when did they know something was bothering me? They could never tell. Today, in lunch, I noticed how Charlotte and Mark were hanging out, continuously, which somewhat bothered me. Coal was off talking to a Ravenclaw, and Coal...well, I had yet to find out where he had gone. Probably gone to the library to check out more books on Quidditch. I'm glad I wasn't quidditch captain, I really would not want to do any extra work beyond what was needed. I sat silently at the table, where my eyes drifted to the teachers table, and my glance caught none other then Prof. Granger.
Ah, yes, there was that Abigail Potter again. Her father is in her
eyes, the father of who I would like to forget. I don't know what I
was thinking coming back here, everything reminds me of him, the way
he made me laugh, the way he made me cry. How could I think that
coming back here would be good for me? The memories are haunting my
dreams again.
Abigail, or should I start saying Abby? No, I'll keep it at
Abigail; Abby is too personal to start calling someone I barely can
even look at. Abigail has an interesting character, she seems somewhat
flaky (which I suspect she inherited from her mother), yet I can tell
he possesses extraordinary magical talent. I shall continue to watch
her closely.
The first week of school was slowly coming to an end. I was in history of magic with Prof. Binns, the only teacher that is a ghost at our school. He had his same monotone, which was great to falling asleep to. He was talking about Goblins and a war...I think. It's not like I was paying attention. I closed my eyes and rested my head on my hand...
"Miss Potter!" "Huh?" I said sleepily.
"Miss Potter class has been over for ten minutes," I looked up to see Prof. Binns standing (or should I say floating?) above be. Whoa, how on earth had I fallen asleep in class? That's never happened before.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" I picked up my books and hurriedly walked out. I could help but think that that was the first time Prof. Binns had ever talked to me one-on-one.
I looked at my watch to see that I had our first Quidittch practice of the season this afternoon in five minutes. Of all the days I had to fall asleep in class, I had to have something after school. I ran up to my dorm to grab my broom and other stuff and then headed down to the pitch.
No one was in the locker room anymore and I saw a diagram showing arrows coming from different quidditch players. I quickly changed and darted out into the open air.
"Oy, Abby! Get up here!" I mounted my broom to go see what Skylar needed from me today. "Where have you been?"
"I fell asleep in Binns' class, how come you didn't notice me sleeping there? I was sitting right beside you," What is it with people and not noticing me?
"You should have been more responsible, you missed my whole overview on tactics for the year," was Skylar really just talking to me like I was a 6 year-old? I couldn't believe it.
"I'm sorry, o higher mighty one," I said sarcastically. I don't really even need to know most of the tactics, my job is to find the snitch, and that's it. Well, maybe do a little defending in between.
"Just go do some exercises,"
"Gladly,"
Things didn't loosen up the rest of practice, and where I'm usually excited that quidditch was starting again, I felt the exact opposite. I was tired, and if it was possible, hated school even more then I had at the end of school yesterday. Today, Saturday, I woke up earlier then wanted, and went for a walk. A long walk to be specific. I air felt fresh against my skin and the breeze eased it's self through my long brown hair. I thought of my life, and how completely and utterly useless it felt. I wanted to feel important, somehow, to just one person. Was that even close to being possible. Right now, all hope was lost.
I sat down on a rock near the lake and how I wished to be out there, away from here. I turned around to the school and thought of the other kids in school going about their Saturday mornings. So many were so oblivious to outside world and enjoyed their life. O how I wished to laugh and smile the way I used to.
"Abby?" I heard Sky say as I walked into the common room.
"Sorry, Abby's not here, she got lost somewhere on the train here," I said, and continued to walk up towards my dorm.
When I walked into my room I saw that Ollie was sitting on my bed with a letter a attached to her leg. I quickly untied it. The letter was from my mother and father; at least two people hadn't forgotten me.
Dear Abigail,
How is school going? We hope well. We miss you so much
already. Also, we have news, your father and I are going on a little
trip. Actually, it's more then a little trip. We are traveling to
America for 6 months for your father to speak in conferences around
the country. It shall be amazing, but we are sad to report that we
will not be here for Christmas. No need to send us a letter back,
we'll already be gone and certainly Ollie won't be able to cross the
ocean. We plan to send you a letter every two weeks.
We love and miss you!
-Mum and Dad
The letter was far from what I had wanted. It seemed somewhat vague and lacked the homeliness that I had wanted. I therefore had no one to talk to. Mum and Dad we're thousands of miles away and my friends (or what I thought would be friends) are just a short distance downstairs, yet it seems as if they too, are far away. The worst part was that they would be gone for Christmas, meaning I would be stuck in this place even longer. Why was everything just going ever-so wrong?
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Things did not get better. If anything, they were worse. Along with her giving me those looks, she gradually began to ignore me, even when I made an outrageous mistake (on purpose, of course).
My friends had yet to know that this was troubling me, yet when did they know something was bothering me? They could never tell. Today, in lunch, I noticed how Charlotte and Mark were hanging out, continuously, which somewhat bothered me. Coal was off talking to a Ravenclaw, and Coal...well, I had yet to find out where he had gone. Probably gone to the library to check out more books on Quidditch. I'm glad I wasn't quidditch captain, I really would not want to do any extra work beyond what was needed. I sat silently at the table, where my eyes drifted to the teachers table, and my glance caught none other then Prof. Granger.
Ah, yes, there was that Abigail Potter again. Her father is in her
eyes, the father of who I would like to forget. I don't know what I
was thinking coming back here, everything reminds me of him, the way
he made me laugh, the way he made me cry. How could I think that
coming back here would be good for me? The memories are haunting my
dreams again.
Abigail, or should I start saying Abby? No, I'll keep it at
Abigail; Abby is too personal to start calling someone I barely can
even look at. Abigail has an interesting character, she seems somewhat
flaky (which I suspect she inherited from her mother), yet I can tell
he possesses extraordinary magical talent. I shall continue to watch
her closely.
The first week of school was slowly coming to an end. I was in history of magic with Prof. Binns, the only teacher that is a ghost at our school. He had his same monotone, which was great to falling asleep to. He was talking about Goblins and a war...I think. It's not like I was paying attention. I closed my eyes and rested my head on my hand...
"Miss Potter!" "Huh?" I said sleepily.
"Miss Potter class has been over for ten minutes," I looked up to see Prof. Binns standing (or should I say floating?) above be. Whoa, how on earth had I fallen asleep in class? That's never happened before.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" I picked up my books and hurriedly walked out. I could help but think that that was the first time Prof. Binns had ever talked to me one-on-one.
I looked at my watch to see that I had our first Quidittch practice of the season this afternoon in five minutes. Of all the days I had to fall asleep in class, I had to have something after school. I ran up to my dorm to grab my broom and other stuff and then headed down to the pitch.
No one was in the locker room anymore and I saw a diagram showing arrows coming from different quidditch players. I quickly changed and darted out into the open air.
"Oy, Abby! Get up here!" I mounted my broom to go see what Skylar needed from me today. "Where have you been?"
"I fell asleep in Binns' class, how come you didn't notice me sleeping there? I was sitting right beside you," What is it with people and not noticing me?
"You should have been more responsible, you missed my whole overview on tactics for the year," was Skylar really just talking to me like I was a 6 year-old? I couldn't believe it.
"I'm sorry, o higher mighty one," I said sarcastically. I don't really even need to know most of the tactics, my job is to find the snitch, and that's it. Well, maybe do a little defending in between.
"Just go do some exercises,"
"Gladly,"
Things didn't loosen up the rest of practice, and where I'm usually excited that quidditch was starting again, I felt the exact opposite. I was tired, and if it was possible, hated school even more then I had at the end of school yesterday. Today, Saturday, I woke up earlier then wanted, and went for a walk. A long walk to be specific. I air felt fresh against my skin and the breeze eased it's self through my long brown hair. I thought of my life, and how completely and utterly useless it felt. I wanted to feel important, somehow, to just one person. Was that even close to being possible. Right now, all hope was lost.
I sat down on a rock near the lake and how I wished to be out there, away from here. I turned around to the school and thought of the other kids in school going about their Saturday mornings. So many were so oblivious to outside world and enjoyed their life. O how I wished to laugh and smile the way I used to.
"Abby?" I heard Sky say as I walked into the common room.
"Sorry, Abby's not here, she got lost somewhere on the train here," I said, and continued to walk up towards my dorm.
When I walked into my room I saw that Ollie was sitting on my bed with a letter a attached to her leg. I quickly untied it. The letter was from my mother and father; at least two people hadn't forgotten me.
Dear Abigail,
How is school going? We hope well. We miss you so much
already. Also, we have news, your father and I are going on a little
trip. Actually, it's more then a little trip. We are traveling to
America for 6 months for your father to speak in conferences around
the country. It shall be amazing, but we are sad to report that we
will not be here for Christmas. No need to send us a letter back,
we'll already be gone and certainly Ollie won't be able to cross the
ocean. We plan to send you a letter every two weeks.
We love and miss you!
-Mum and Dad
The letter was far from what I had wanted. It seemed somewhat vague and lacked the homeliness that I had wanted. I therefore had no one to talk to. Mum and Dad we're thousands of miles away and my friends (or what I thought would be friends) are just a short distance downstairs, yet it seems as if they too, are far away. The worst part was that they would be gone for Christmas, meaning I would be stuck in this place even longer. Why was everything just going ever-so wrong?
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