Another Star- Polaris Black

10- Inner Turmoil

[Words: 6100]

1975, 11th December- Thursday

Polaris felt an overwhelming sense of fatigue, his exhaustion weighing heavily on his weary shoulders. It became increasingly challenging to concentrate, and a sudden bout of dizziness washed over him.

In the midst of Professor McGonagall's lecture, discussing their recent test, Polaris instinctively closed his eyes and pressed his hand against his forehead, attempting to stave off an impending headache. The world around him seemed to blur, and he struggled to catch the professor's words.

The act of closing his eyes provided a momentary respite, a fleeting escape from the weariness that plagued him. It felt comforting, a brief reprieve from the restless nights that had become all too common. The dreams that eluded his memory had become a regular occurrence; their frequency seemingly amplified after his encounter with the boggart.

But Polaris pushed those thoughts aside, unwilling to delve into the depths of his subconscious. The peculiar form that his boggart had taken remained elusive, a shape he couldn't quite articulate or comprehend.

Professor Volans had summoned him for a discussion after class, prying into the nature of his fear. The questioning irritated Polaris, as if the professor had the right to judge when everyone harboured their own fears. Especially when Polaris himself couldn't quite grasp the essence of his own.

It felt foolish, frustrating even, to be plagued by something he couldn't define. Lost in his thoughts, Polaris was jolted back to reality when he felt a sharp nudge at his side.

He swiftly turned his head, his narrowed eyes meeting Thaddeus, who had been the one to jostle him. In a hushed and snappy tone, Polaris snapped, "What!"

Thaddeus locked eyes with him and slowly directed his gaze towards something behind Polaris. Initially hesitant, Polaris eventually turned to see Professor McGonagall standing at the end of their desk, her usual stern countenance softened as their eyes met. She sighed, placing a sheet of paper in front of him.

"Here's your grade, Mr. Black," she said, her tone tinged with disappointment, a departure from Polaris's usual top marks. This assignment had proven to be a different case, a departure from his typical excellence.

Polaris's eyes narrowed as he stared at the green letter mocking him from the top of the page. It was an "A" - an Acceptable grade. Anger surged through him, fuelled by his confusion and frustration. How dare Professor McGonagall judge him with that disappointed expression? Who was she to question his abilities?

Clutching the graded paper tightly in his hand, he could feel his anger boiling over. The dreams that haunted him, the fatigue that clouded his mind, and now this perceived judgment from his professor—it was all too much.

With a surge of frustration, he crumpled the paper in his hand, crushing it into a tight ball. It was of no use to him, a symbol of his perceived failure.

His classmates glanced at him, their gazes a mix of curiosity and concern, but Polaris paid them no mind. He was too consumed by his own inner turmoil.

As the class continued, Polaris's mind wandered. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was something more to his struggles, something hidden beneath the surface. The dreams held a power over him, a power he couldn't comprehend. It frustrated him to no end.

As the class came to an end and students began to file out of the room, Thaddeus noticed that Polaris hadn't moved from his seat. Concern etched his features as he observed his friend, unsure of what had caused his unusual stillness. His eyes drifted to the crumpled sheet in Polaris's hands, and a sense of curiosity overcame him.