Leyla and the Prisoner of Azkaban

2: Family

I wrote Hermione and I told her as good as I could how insecure I feel, and she says that it's probably due to the time I spend near George.  She recommends me to try to relax, and to think about him as another Weasley brother. Ah, if it only were that easy...

While we play Quidditch it's easier for me not to think about him as GEORGE WEASLEY as much as only one of my dearest redheadeds; although it's no so meritorious to achieve that, because I can't think about him, nor about something, or someone while I'm on the broom chasing the Quaffle.

If I only knew which is the Quaffle of my life, maybe then it would be easier to concentrate and stop wasting time in fantasies or on my body image. Or maybe my real problem is that everytime I see a Quaffle, I run to it and I forget the Snitch.

However, in addition to Hermione's answer, happy birthday cards arrived. Hermione attached to her letter a pretty card that she bought in London, and a candy box. She knows me. I wish I could eat them without feeling guilty. The second card is from Cedric, pretty simple and with a nice necklace with an image of an owl. Since I opened his card I can't stop thinking about him, because who needs peace when you can worry about not only one guy, but two at a time? High five, Leyla. High five with Francesca.

Anyway, my worries will soon seem insignificant when I finally open the third card. When it arrived, I first thought it could be from Aunt Bella, but she hasn't written in a long time, and she probably won't do it any time soon. That concerns me a little bit, because it means she's in a big trouble, but that's not a thing to start thinking. I don't need the branches of my family tree to be more broadleaved and twisted than usual.

Reality is that the third card is from Snape. Or should I call him dad? Father? Even only reading his signature, with his tiny and squished handwriting, I get a headache. After drinking a big glass of hot water I sit on my bed and I read the feared content of the card.

Happy birthday, Leyla, have a great day. Do not delay in informing school if anything happens. Take care of yourself and follow my advice.

And of course, at the end, the compressed scrawl he calls signature. It wasn't that bad. I though this letter would be a bigger suffer for both of us, but it was writing with such a light style that it's easy to digest. He gets to the point.

'Now you worry about points?'

If only Francesca would stop giving me ideas...

At night, Ginny is very silent, and it gives me the impression that I'm alone (something that never happens, not even when I'm actually alone, because Francesca insists in whispering nonsenses; but it seems she went on vacations).

This absolute silence allows me to dream whatever my mind wants. There, images of Hogwarts appear and disappear, being bigger and smaller. Actually, it's always the same scene, Cedric, George and me, In front of the kitchens. The dream then transforms into the tentacles of the giant squid, which picks me up me from the neck and eants to take me to the bottom of the Black Lake. And when I feel that I'm about to drown, I see Snape's face.

I suddenly get up with a shout in my throat, but I don't know how much I'd shouted on my dreams.

I wouldn’t be surprised if tomorrow, The Daily Prophet published an article saying that The Burrow competes with the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade.

-Leyla? -Ginny appears looking at me with worried face-. Do you need air?

She opens the window on my right while I sit down and get comfortable with the pillow. I'm soaked in sweat, I must smell terribly and my hair is sticky.

The air is stuck in the room, but with a little concentration I manage to get some air in the room and to clear my head. Outside the sun is rising, and when I see the sunlight I feel I can’t go back to the darkness behind my eyelids, where the giant squid and the Lake wait for me.