The Other Potter: Book 7

PLOT LINES BE DAMNED

Length of time I’ve been at Hogwarts this year: Three weeks/504 hours

Amount of time I’ve had detention this year: 179 hours.

I haven’t even been to class yet.

I SERIOUSLY DONT THINK THIS SHIT HOLE EVEN COUNTS AS SCHOOL ANYMORE! OH MY GOD!

Despite being an uneducated swine, I did learn some things since my untimely arrival. Like, I’ve learnt that I cannot be subtle, sexy or act very well. I learnt this the hard way, of course. I was trying to flirt my way through the Inquisitorial squad to get my wand back, but they were like ‘we know what you’re doing idiot’ and I was like ‘fine, I’ll bash you bitches up to get my wand’ and they were like ‘you’re outnumbered’.

It sort of ended with me nursing a black eye, and bruises practically everywhere, the squad lying haphazardly on the ground, panting, and the best part is that I got my wand. So yeah. The beating was worth it. (And I fucking won that fight I'm so cool Oh my god.)

I guess my flirting went downhill because I tried to charm boys with words like “you have very big nostrils,” and “I wonder what it would be like if I pulled out your organs in front of your eyes.”

Note to self: Learn how to flirt before seeing George again.

At this moment, I’m heading towards the Great Hall because I’m really fucking hungry.

 “You’re going to have to come with me.” said a voice from behind me.

“For fuck’s sake.” I said loudly. I seem to get detention before I can eat anything. I turned around and it was McGonagall. She wasn’t smiling.

Suddenly alarmed, I fell over.

“Get up.” She growled.

I then proceeded to be like Bambi on ice, until she helped me up.

“Come with me.”

I followed the new-and-to-the-point McGonagall to her office.

“Sit.” She snapped. I sat. She shut the door and sat opposite me. “Miss Weasley taught me a spell. This room is completely sound proof.”

“Muffliato?” I asked.

“That’s the one.” She smiled sadly. “God dammit Willow. This place is so different than when you last left it.”

“I’ve noticed that.” I said to her.

“I don’t know if we can go on much longer. It’s horrible here.”

“Can’t you leave?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t dare leave the students on their own. They need as many people on their side as possible.”

“Tell me about it.” I sighed, and I looked up at her sadly.

“What can I help you with?” she asked, and I found it funny because she brought me to her office.

“Yeah, uh, I do need your help with something Professor.”

“Anything.”

I pulled the possible-memory-box out of my pocket (I have big pockets, like the Doctor. What of it?) and placed it on the desk.

“Do you know how to open this?”

“This was Dumbledore’s.” She said in alarm as she looked at me.

“He left it to me in his will.” I said calmly.

“Oh.” She looked at me quizzically for a moment.