Clover Hawkings and the Triwizard Tournament

28. She's in Love With Me and I Do Not Feel Fine

 Sorry for the somewhat late update- I'm really unsure about this chapter. I mean, it's impossible to take it out of the plot, and I've already written the following chapters, so. I dunno. 

Also, last week I said today would be a double update. I lied. I've been working a couple chapters ahead, so I forgot where I was! Sorry about that! (But there will be one. Eventually.)

Anyway, enjoy!

I have sat

In this tree

For years.

I remember playing hide and seek here. I remember hiding here in a desperate attempt to not go to school. I broke my arm falling out of it. I remember climbing this tree in winter, spring, summer, and fall.

I bang my head against the trunk. I sent an owl to McGonagall, adored with speed spells. I need to get out of here.

I try to push away all the words that were said like I had pushed away all the one that weren't before this year.

I look up at the house, at the window in my room. I remember pacing there the night before the Hogwarts Express had left.

What an awful lot has changed since then.

I remember the first day I met Artemis, Scarlet and Alura. The thought curls my lips into a smile that I quickly shake off.

I seem to remember everything that doesn't matter.

My gaze flits upwards, towards the roof. The roof is barely slanted, just enough for rain and snow to fall off. There's no indication there's an attic in the house. I wonder again why she would hide that from me, and push it out of mind just as quickly.

There's a blue flash of light, startling me so badly I almost fall out of the tree. A letter appears, suspended in the air.

Miss Hawkings,

Your owl has been received. The letter is a Portkey and will depart at 4:30 pm. In the future, please act less impulsive.

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

I clenched the letter in a fist.

"Please act less impulsive," I mocked. I crumple the letter in my hand and try not to think.

I don't know what to do. Why did Cass even tell me this? A part of me wants to think it's because she realized it was time, but I doubt that. There must be some other reason- the question is what.

Furthermore, there's the matter of my "friends". They'll want to know what happened. The thought feels so sickly, I push it away immediately. I can't- I just can't. I've done alot, this is beyond taking steps. I swung my feet, kicking the tree.

My trunk was above me, filled with hastily packed clothes and also the dusty picture frame I stole. Charlie and Cass's faces are practically burning a hole in the side. I deserve to know her, right? Do I? Do I at all? What if-

There's a sudden hooking feeling in my navel, and it yanks away. I spin, letter in one hand, trunk in the other, swirling in an all-too-bright world on color, and then-

I'm on the floor in McGonagall's office. All thoughts shut down- this is no place to be vulnerable.

"Miss Hawkings," McGonagall picks up her robes and swooshes over to me. "I'm glad to see you return, although I must ask- what on earth was she thinking?" she rattles on, her words all flowing around me but not through me. I stand up, red shoes almost stepping on my black robes. I fish something out of my pocket.