If Only...

Amelia (September 2nd - September 7th

September 2nd, 1996

And classes begin. Nothing that exciting; the same old thing as every year before. First thing, bright and early, was Care of Magical Creatures. I wasn't particularly fond of the class, but like most other Gryffindors I signed up again for Hagrid's sake. I like animals, don't get me wrong, but I do not enjoy the kind that can (and try to) bite my fingers off. Katie and I joked as we made our way down to Hagrid's hut with the rest of our group. Unfortunately we were with the Slytherins, too. As if their antics weren't annoying enough, Cormac McLaggen was walking behind Katie and I, bragging like usual. He's always going on about his accomplishments and talents. His only talent is being utterly obnoxious.

Hagrid was waiting for us with a couple of wooden barrels. They seemed to shiver as they sat there in the grass. When there was a moment of silence, he began to speak.

"Mornin'. Welcome to yer firs' class. I've got some news fer you lot. I'll be leaving in about 'er week for some...business I have to attend to. So yer going to have a diff'rnt professor for a bit."

I turned to whisper to Katie. "I hope it's not Grubby-Plank."

She nodded in agreement.

Turns out, the creatures in the barrels were called "Dragonants." They look like gigantic ants, but they spit fire. Of course, the ones we had were babies so they couldn't exactly lob fire at us. They did spit sparks every once in a while.

My second class was my personal favorite. It's also my best subject: Transfiguration. McGonagall's tough, but she's structured and that's what I need in my classes. She told me in my fifth year that I need to study more. I get high grades in the class, but I think it irritates her that I don't have to work very hard for them. It's not like all of my classes are easy. I suck at Herbology. It's just gardening! Which, by the way, is not a wise thing to say in front of Professor Sprout.

That was the end of my day, though. Sixth and seventh year are nice, because there are less classes to take. Plus there's no class on Fridays this year. McGonagall had already assigned a lengthy essay that she claimed was to review what we had forgotten over the summer. I started (the first paragraph at least) after supper. Procrastination is one of my most prominent traits. I don't like procrastinating, but I always seem to get better grades when I do. Nothing exciting today. Hopefully tomorrow would be a little more interesting. I have Potions in the morning with Slughorn.

September 3rd, 1996



Uh! Good Lord! Potions is horrible. Slughorn is much worse than Snape. No professor should get away with that much favoritism. As if his teaching wasn't bad enough, Cormac McLaggen (again) sat next to me. The first thing he does when he comes into human contact is start rambling.

Finally, after TEN LONG MINUTES, I'd had enough.

"McLaggen! Shut the hell up!"

He looked at me a bit surprised by my outburst.

"What's your problem?"

"My problem is you." I snapped, turning back to my cauldron.

"Is this because of the Yule ball, still?"

I looked at him, confused as I could be.

"What?"

"Listen, I didn't mean to forget about you."

I stood there, brows furrowed. Honestly, I had no idea what he was talking about. I hadn't even gone to the ball.

"I didn't even go to the ball."