Hand Me Downs.

Halloween was upon us, and for me, rather than a celebration of all things ghoulish was the day after my second weekly training with McGonagall.

We hadn’t even started trying the transformation yet but I was ecstatic, we had to use occulemency to bring that sense of animal to the surface, to discover what mood, what emotion I would have to push to transform.

It put a grin upon my face just thinking about it.

I wanted to know what animal I would become, would it be the same as my Patronus? I knew it was unlikely but Minerva (when alone- and something that still felt strange to me) turned into a cat and her patronus was the same stealthy feline.

Your animagus was not determined by you, or else I would long for something big, strong...but it depended on your characteristics, your traits...A small part of me worried that my negative traits would be most prominent in my character.

And that small part reared its’ ugly head whenever I saw George.

We still weren’t speaking, I still wasn’t speaking properly to any of them, although Ron had offered me the odd sentence seemingly without reason, but a look would suddenly come over his face and the silence would begin again.

“What’s supposed to be happening tonight then?” Hermione asked, one eyebrow raised and her mouth parted slightly, “I hope no-one is planning anything too rambunctious.” I almost laughed at her use of words, smirking slightly.

“I haven’t planned anything,” I said honestly, I paused, sighing suddenly as my brain clicked into action, “And I can’t actually, can I? I’ve got another fucking detention with Umbridge,” she frowned, shaking her head slightly at me.

“I honestly don’t know if you or Harry aggravate her more.” She sat quickly next to me, the pumpkins that floated in the corner of the rooms eyes illuminated with a cold burst of fire. “If you just held your tongue...what was it for this time?”

I rolled my eyes slightly, “She said I was not giving her the respect that she,” I lifted my voice, contorting my face, “As a direct ambassador and adviser to the minister of magic deserves.”

Hermione smirked slightly, sucking in her cheek, “Your poor hand.” she mused eventually, glancing down at where the letters were still raised, tinged white from my last set of detentions.

The time I had taken the fall for Fred and George, I glanced a bit further down the table and could make them out, both laughing at something Lee Jordan was saying, his hands animated.

It hurt that not talking to me seemingly made no difference in their lives.

Hermione had followed my eyes, “Why don’t you talk to him?” I pulled a face and she huffed, I waited for the usual lecture to begin, surprised when her voice took on a softer tone, “You didn’t technically do anything wrong...”

“Yeah, I keep hearing that but funnily enough it doesn’t really make a difference.” I bit, apologising just seconds later to which she nodded simply, glancing the same way I had.

“If you don’t talk to him you’re going to lose him completely, as a friend or more. Just...tell him how you feel, it’s been obvious since summer there’s something there.” I smiled lightly at her,

“You have no idea how unbelievably hypocritical a sentence that is coming from you sweetie.” her eyebrows met in the middle and I smiled wider at her, finally taking a bite of my pasta.

“I have no idea what you mean.” she said stiffly, turning and engaging a conversation with Aaron, turning to lessons as it always did. I continued to eat my food, chatting to Ryan ever so often but continuing to trail my eyes around the hall, Professor Flitwick winking at me as we met eyes.

Not only had I been working my arse off in Transfiguration for McGonagall, but I had been trying harder in all of my lessons (except Defence against the dark arts of course) and needless to say Flitwick and Dixnoric (the sweet tempered Alchemy professor) were thrilled that I was finally ‘attempting to reach my full potential’.

Of course Snape had made no comment, although he had actually nodded at my cauldron the other day, which for him was like a hug.

I stood as lunch finished, the leftovers vanishing as always, “Thanks Hermione,” I said honestly,
“Have fun with Umbridge, but be sure to turn to the correct page quickly...or else!"

I finished dramatically, causing Ryan to laugh. She rolled her eyes, waving me a quiet goodbye and leaving with Ron and Harry. The former shooting me a look, causing me to let out a low groan.

“Oh, come on,” Ryan urged, tugging on my arm, not understanding my irritation, “It’s charms, and Flitwick is practically worshiping you at the minute.”



Umbridge didn’t have me writing lines, perhaps she was coming to the realisation that having a couple of students scarred half to death was unlikely to shit with Dumbledore.

Instead I was polishing, dusting...her bloody cat plates that she had hung on the wall, the kittens letting out slight meows and purrs as the duster smoothed over them.

She was sat at her desk, scrawling some kind of note. I had tried to sneak a look and could only make out the words Dumbledore, so I assume it was some kind of complaint to Fudge. Fudge the fool.

I fought back a yawn, I had been here since half past seven and the small clock on her desk had chimed eleven what felt like forever ago.

“Have you finished yet?” she cleared her throat before talking, I had also come to realise in this time it wasn’t just reserved for speaking, indeed she made that noise to herself constantly.
I wanted to strangle her, or deafen myself.

“Almost.” I said simply, speeding up my movements.

“Well they, ahem, were terribly dirty,” she turned, small teeth bared in a grin, my face stayed blank. “Finish that one then be off, and straight back to your common room Miss Pelanci, I shall know if it is otherwise.” I chewed on the inside of my lip to avoid rising to her threat.

Pug faced bitch.



I left the room as quickly as possible, my feet aching and shoulders stiff, I swear she had dirtied them up purposely, there was no way they could get so filthy just on her wall. I was still seething, the castle cold, the feeling of damp sinking through my thin jumper.

The hallways were dark, and I had to use Lumos to light up the passage slightly, worried as I always did late at night that I would somehow grow lost in the maze that was Hogwarts.

I heard an echo of a step behind me on the stairs, making me freeze instantly. God I wished I had the Marauders Map right now. The worst flashed through my head, Malfoy, some of the others Slytherins I had made comments about, and they didn’t have a limit.

Children of death eaters. I swallowed deeply, not relaxing even as a familiar voice rang from behind me.

“What are you doing out this late Amelia?” I turned, the tall shadow entering the light and turning into a familiar figure, his red hair glinting in the light. I mouthed a couple of words, not sure how I should speak.

“I had detention.” I said finally, avoiding his eyes, he nodded, the tray of food making it evident he had been down to the kitchens, “Having a party?” I asked, my voice much more bitter than I wanted it to be.

But it hurt.

He nodded guiltily, following me as I started walking, I could see the Marauders Map poking from his jean pocket, “Can you talk to me please?” he said suddenly, causing me to turn around.

“And say what Fred? You’re the one that stopped talking to me.” I felt teary, my throat clogging and he noticed, his own features looking pained.

“You really fucking hurt him Amelia...” he spoke cautiously and I shook my head, the tears threatening to fall.

“And you think I don’t realise that? That I don’t hate how much I’ve fucked it all up?” He shrugged, lips pursed uncomfortably.

“I...I think you should just try and talk to him, he isn’t mad anymore, he’s just...”

“Upset?” I finished, “Well I’m pretty upset that none of you have spoken to me in nearly three weeks Fred, that really fucking hurts.” My voice cracked at the end of my sentence and I closed my eyes, hearing the tray being placed down and finding his arms wrapped around me, my forehead pressing against his collar bone.

“I’m so sorry, it’s just... he’s my brother. He’s mad, I’m mad...and I hate that I’ve been a dick but..” I pulled away, wiping my eyes slightly.

“I get it,” I told him, the lie evident in my words, “If I was in your situation I’d probably do the same.”

“No you wouldn’t.” He said straight away, picking up the food and walking past me. “You definitely wouldn’t.”


The next week passed in the same way, although now Fred was shooting me smiles, had spoken to me throughout the DA meeting, and he had told me he was working on George.

George who apparently wasn’t angry but who still refused to look at me.

I had fucked everything up and lost one of my best friends in the process.

“Stop being so overdramatic.” Dale complained, listening to me whinging about it all once again one morning.

“Remind me why I like you again?” I retorted, taking a bite of my scrambled eggs.

“Look, the way I see it, you tried to explain, and he’s been a dick and ignored you. I mean, I tried to talk to him the next day and he blanked me.” I lifted an eyebrow, not stopping eating but accepting his final words, having had no idea.

“Seriously, he’s being childish...if he doesn’t realise babe then... fuck him.”

“I concur.” Leanne added, slipping down next to me.

“Eavesdropping is rude.” I scolded playfully, sipping my drink, she glared slightly at me.

“Have you seen what the Slytherins are wearing?” I turned, seated facing the opposite direction and squinting as I tried to make them out, “Are they wearing crowns?”

She nodded, “And badges, they’re talking about Ron.” I frowned instantly, “So I’m assuming they’re going to be going for him in the match later.”

She shrugged after she spoke, Quidditch meant even less to her than it did to me and Dale.

“I was at the Hufflepuff table,” she revealed, her smile widening as her eyes literally lit up, “Talking to Rowan, he is so...” I ignored her, lifting myself up slightly and searching down the table for Ron, spotting him leaving with Harry, Hermione trailing after them.

I felt nervous; I knew he wasn’t particularly great, Katie had complained enough but his confidence issues would be his downfall.

“We better get going anyway.” Ryan popped in, having been stuck in conversation with Cormac, who was the only one of us willing to discuss the indepth techniques of Quidditch.

“Thanks for getting me out of that by the way guys.” He scoffed, meeting us finally at the end of the table, “Where’s Aaron?” I asked suddenly, feeling guilty for not noticing his absence.

“He’s in the library,” Leanne informed me, “We’re gunna hang out and get some work done rather than Quidditch, though if Katie asks we were there.” I rolled my eyes at her lifted brow.

“And by do work you mean bitch about us all?” She grinned again, poking my arm as we parted ways,

“Most definitely. Enjoy the game!”



The walk to the Quidditch pitch felt longer than usual, and my nerves built as we strolled past any Slytherins, the majority wearing the crowns and badges.

“Don’t hex anyone yet,” Dale joked, my arm slipped through him, my other in the same position with Ryan, which was making walking difficult. “I won’t be surprised if they try anything though.” He added, “The build up to this game has been ridiculous, even by their standards.”

“Guys!” We turned quickly, causing me to slip slightly and almost lose my footing on the icy ground, I smiled lightly as Neville bounded over to us, copying me and falling on the ice.

A couple of Slytherins snorted as they walked past and I felt my jaw tense as the boys let go, Ryan making sure Neville was properly on his feet.

“Careful Longbottom,” he said, smiling at him lightly, “I can see why you two are so close,” he taunted, looking back at me, “You’re both as clumsy as anything.”

“That is indeed what our whole relationship is based on.” I said sarcastically, waiting a couple of seconds until Neville caught up, our footsteps slower to distance us from the jokers of the sixth year.

“You excited?” I shrugged, offering him a ‘merh’ was reply.

“I spend the whole time praying Katie doesn’t take a bludger to the face, it makes me really nervous.” he laughed loudly, causing me to smile up at him.

“How’s your plant doing anyway? You still have enough soil?” he assured me it (or she – bless him) was fine and started describing at what stage of her life she was at.

“That’s exciting,” I only slightly lied, always eager to feign interest in Herbology for him, “How are you finding all your other work? Any trouble with Snape?” He grimaced and I had my answer.

“Well, I’m not much help without Aaron but if you want a hand with stuff feel free to ask.” He nodded, thanking me quietly as we finally reached the stadium. We parted with a wave and smile, before I jogged to Dale and Ryan, sliding in between them on the bench.

“How’s Neville?” Dale asked,

“He’s fine.”

“How's his plant, married her yet?” I hit his arm and he winced much to my joy, “Sorry,” he coughed, rubbing his chest, “I forgot you hit like a man.” Ryan sniggered and I turned, glaring.

He stopped, looking far more excited when he noticed the teams coming out, and met in the center of the pitch, “Alright, stop arguing now, I actually want to watch this.”

Dale and I shared a look, smirking slightly as the whistle blew and the brooms sped from their positions.

And then the real game began.

The Slytherins were chanting, taunting Ron as much as possible. Most of Gryffindor were tense, more than a couple of people threatening to hex Pansy Parkinson and shut her up.

I just happened to be the person who eventually flipped and did it.

Finding myself in front of Professor McGonagall with a sweaty Harry and George, who had rightfully attacked Malfoy as he had continued to badmouth the Weasley’s.

That sly, foul little git.

“He is so dead.” I murmured, my blood still thick with anger at Pansy and from what Katie had told me as I had been sent, and followed, by Snape back into the caste. I kept my eyes in front, McGonagall pacing around her desk, building up the shouting.

“Most definitely.” George replied, glancing down at me.

Not exactly how I wanted us to start talking again.