iii.
For the third time, you remember his silver orbs.
Now you're certain that they're silver.
You marvel at them.
And you're thrilled, because
This year, he would always stare at you.
Sadly, you can't savor that.
(Not yet. But soon, you vowed. Soon.)
The Time-Turner was making you go crazy.
Ron and Harry too, with their stupid brooms and skinny rats.
And that crazy, glittery, fake "Seer" Trelawney who likes to spout of daily misfortunes in sherry-induced fits of hysteria!
HONESTLY?!
WHEN YOU THOUGHT THAT YOU COULD HAVE A BREAK FROM ALL THE CRAZY BULLSHITS FROM LAST YEAR AND JUST USE THE TIME-TURNER THIS YEAR FOR YOUR STUDIES AND A LITTLE BIT OF FUN, TO KEEP YOUR BUSHY HEAD LOW AND AVOID GETTING IN DANGER FOR THE NTH TIME WHILE STILL HELPING HARRY BLOODY POTTER AND RON BLOODY WEASLEY IN THEIR SO-CALLED ADVENTURES, ESPECIALLY WITH WHAT HAPPENED LAST YEAR WHEN YOU ACCIDENTALLY TURNED INTO A CAT AND WAS PETRIFIED BY A BASILISK THAT GINNY BLOODY WEASLEY OPENED BY ORDERS FROM A BLOODY DIARY-
You're stressed. You're angry.
Where's the chance to vent out all of the bloody stress out when you need it?!
But you were patient.
You waited.
Hallelujah.
Hallelujah, hallelujah, finally!
Thank the gods!
The pale prat called Hagrid a blubbering oaf in front of you three!
Says the one that milks an injury for all its bloody worth?
And what's that prat's name?!
Draco bloody Lucius bloody Black bloody Malfoy, of course!
Yes!
You finally got an excuse to slap that sorry thing he calls a face!
"DON'T CALL HAGRID THAT, YOU FOUL, PATHETIC LITTLE COCKROACH-"
CRACK!
Oops.
Your hands slipped, sorry.
Why, you ask?
Well, instead of slapping him, your hand changed course (not that you could blame it, it's just an.. ah.. just a spur of the moment..)...
...and punched him HARD in the pale, pointed thing that he calls a face.
You felt the satisfying crunch of broken bones beneath his skin as your hand hit him.
He staggered back, clutching a pale hand to his broken and bleeding nose and wincing from the pain from his slightly fissured jaw, his eyes a wild, wild gray.
Hah.
You breathed heavily as you glared at him and his cronies with grim satisfaction as they ran away to the ends of the earth (read; to their Daddy's cloaks and Mummy's roes) like the bloody devil himself was the one they saw face to face.
"Well, that felt good."
You said, a dark and triumphant smile in your face as Harry and a shaken Ron approached you.
xxxx