I'm Still That Confused Little Girl, but It's so Much More Confusing Now

“Why did Malfoy hex you?” I rolled my eyes, moving among the bookshelves, ignoring Ron. This was at least the fourth time he’d asked. “Dude.” I shot him a withering look.

“Dudette.” He repaired with a quick grin. “He knocked you unconscious. That’s big. Why aren’t you telling anyone?”

“I started it. No point in bringing it all up. All that’ll happen is we’ll both get detention.” I paused, thinking I spotted the book I needed, moving on a moment later when I realised it wasn’t it.

“He knocked you unconscious. That’s massive.” I rolled my eyes, smiling slightly, Ron always cheered me up; he was always so overdramatic.

“It doesn’t matter. Anyway Fred and George were there. I was fine.”

“But what would’ve happened if they weren’t?” Nothing, me and Draco would’ve carried on having a nice conversation. I carried on scanning the bookshelf.

“They were. That’s all that matters. Stop!” Ron walked into me as I stopped abruptly, staring at the top shelf of the bookshelf. “Found it.” I cocked my head, considering faintly how I was going to get it down.

“You’re a witch Flick.” I laughed and pulled out my wand, levitating it down slowly. “Please come.”

“No. Ron I’ve told you. I don’t do Quidditch.” He groaned and leaned against the wall.

“It’s not like it’s a match! Please Flick. I need someone there.” He sulked. “I need the support.”

“You don’t need the support, you’ll be fine. Anyway, Herms’ll be there.” Ron grumbled to himself in annoyance that I was refusing. “You’ll be brilliant Ron.” I wrapped my arm round his shoulders and gave him a hug, leaving my arm there when I’d finished hugging him. “I know you’ll be excellent.” He frowned.

“How? You’ve never seen me play.” I opened my mouth to reply when Zabini appeared at the end of the row. He jerked his head at me, as if he was telling me to go to the last row. Ron looked at me when he realised I wasn’t replying, following my gaze. “Flick!” He whined in annoyance. I looked at him.

“What?”

“You’re going to follow him aren’t you?” I swallowed.

“No. I’m hanging out with my friend. Why would I go off with a Slytherin?” Ron grinned, taking the book out of my hand.

“Come on then. Table; you can talk me through cheering charms.” I smiled half-heartedly and followed him to a table. Zabini grabbed my arm as I sidled past.

“I just wanted to know the counter-curse. We can’t make Draco’s hair stop growing. He has to cut it every hour.” Ron sniggered. “Shut up Weasley.” Ron scowled at Zabini, pulling me away from him.

“Come on Flick.” Zabini was on him in a flash, pushing him up against the wall with his wand. I hit him in the back with a leg-locker curse, causing him to fall the floor. I pulled Ron over him, Zabini looked faintly surprised I’d cursed him.

“Don’t mess with my friends.” I snarled into his face. “Come on Ron. I’ll teach you in the common room.” He followed me silently, until we got to the common room and sat at one of the tables, where he looked at me in admiration for a minute, before I snapped at him, “What?”

“Remind me not to annoy you.” He said jokily, I laughed slightly, releasing the tension. “You are skilled with leg-locker curses.” I shrugged.

“My Dad taught me.”

“Your Dad. You never talk about him.” I frowned and shrugged.

“You never ask.”

“I am now. Tell me about him.” I swallowed.

“Um, you’ve got Charms to learn.”

“Harry’s right.” I frowned and cocked my head questioningly. “You do deflect.” I sighed.

“I just don’t like talking about stuff.” He watched me. “I’m not coming to Quidditch.”

“Damn it! How on earth did you know that was what I was thinking about?” I smiled.

“Because it’s all you think about right now.” He grinned and shrugged. “Come on Weasley. Cheering charms.” Ron groaned and looked down at the book we had brought from the library. It was my turn to grin now.

***

I wandered through the corridors, aimlessly trying to find something to do. All the Gryffindors were at the try-outs, except a few first years, so the common room was essentially the most boring place on earth.

A brown owl soared through a window to my right, as I reached the seventh floor. I recognised it as Percy, my mother’s owl. He soared back out the window after dropping the letter he was carrying at my feet. Peewee would’ve stuck around all day waiting for a treat.

Peewee was named after Percy. I was too little to say Percy when my father bought me Peewee, back then I thought all owls were called Percy. It was some years later I realised they all had different names, I tried to change it, but Peewee stuck.
I leaned down and picked up the letter, it was thick, parchment folded at least three times. I raised my eyebrows, wondering faintly how much my mother could possibly have to say.

Hello my dear,

I hope this letter reached you safely and you are enjoying your time at Hogwart’s.
I hear through work that you are still good friends with the youngest Weasley boy, that is good. It puts you in an ideal position to get to Mr Potter, I hear he is around the Weasley family a lot.

If you can find some way to get closer to Harry Potter, you will be in a prime position to become a auror, with his backing you would rise higher than your peers. You may even find marriage in young Mr Potter.

Try not to mess up your exams sweetie. Oh and your grandfather died last week. He didn’t mention you. Have a nice time dear, and keep me updated on your dealings with Harry Potter.

Mum
x

I scowled at the parchment, crumpling it up and burning it with my wand. I hated her. How could she tell me my last remaining tie to my father had died with so little emotion? Cow.

She always pushed me to get close to Harry. Of course I had never told her that I talked to Harry quite a bit, I didn’t tell her much about my life at Hogwarts actually, although she was never interested in any other aspect but the famous Harry Potter.

My mum, in short, was obsessed. Always had been, though she never showed it as much when my father was alive. She loved him too much to defy him and he hated her talking about celebrities too much, I did too, if I was perfectly honest.

I gritted my teeth and headed down to the library, it was easier to pretend I had a normal life when I had my head buried in a book. Easier to pretend I had normal parents and a normal family life.