Prophecy of Slytherclaw

FIVE

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She went from zero to a hundred in just a blink of an eye. It was like a switch was flipped or something. One moment, she was okay being alone and now . . .

Camila feels antsy.

Never before in her life she felt so restless. She has always been perfectly okay being around nature by herself, breathing in the silence, basking in the quiet peace. And now, it's just not the same anymore.

In the back of her head she could hear that soft giggle, see those sparkling emerald eyes. She could almost breathe the scent of fresh lavender, but instead of relaxing to its fragrance, she felt so fitful. Instead of butterflies roaming in her stomach, she can feel gas. Heavy, swirling and just sitting there like some sort of constipation adding to the weight of her antsy feeling.

She has been sitting under the tree by the lake, reading. More like trying to read. Because try as she may, she cannot concentrate on what the words were telling her, what those lines mean. Her eyes may be looking at these letters, recognizing the words, but her mind is floating elsewhere.

Somewhere with a girl whose bright eyes outshine all the stars above.

It's probably becoming unhealthy of her to feel this way. But then, she had no idea for sure if it is because she never felt anything like this before to compare it with.

She is just so . . . Captivated.

Lauren is at her quidditch practice at the moment and Camila misses her horribly as if they haven't spent the major part of the day sharing candies and notes in their arithmancy class, dissecting an acne-looking toad for a potion, snuck a couple of books from the restricted section of the library and practiced a little bit of dueling in the astronomy tower.

She misses her as if it has been a century since they last saw each other and not an hour ago.

Yep. She got it bad alright.

"Hey! Canola Cable Cord!"

Ah, great . . .

She doesn't react, but on her peripheral view, she could see some flowing scarves of red and silver stripes. And that voice. She would never mistake that voice for anything, because for several years, her ears had been filled with that nasally irritating voice complete with that faux French accent, spouting insults as lame as the person herself.

Erica Sinclair.

A Gryffindor resident who is just as bad as her housemate, Lucy Vives. The girl struts along followed by some of her friends, including Vives as well.

"What have we got here!" She snatches her book then snickers at her, "A stupid book called Mooncakes? Are you trying to be a chef now, huh?"

Her friends laugh along with her.

"Guess the dirty kitchen is where you belong afterall, with all the filthy servant elves,"

Camila keeps a straight face, not reacting at all, even though she wants to pummel the girl's face into the ground.

The fifth year Gryffindor girl flips the pages of her book and makes a disgusted look.

"What in Merlin's beard is this abomination??! Silly pictures and ugh . . . You have a terrible taste in books Canola Cable Cord,"

Camila snatches her book back, not dignifying the girl with any verbal response.

"Oooh . . ." The other students choruses around her. Lucy only raises one perfect eyebrow at her.

Erica looked perplexed at her display of silent defiance. She suddenly pushes her. Harshly and full of disdain. Camila was caught off guard by that sudden motion, falls on the ground with a crack. She didn't expect the girl would get physical, she was usually just words and not actions.