I don't know what to say.
Not in class, when teachers call on me.
Not on the rare occasions Scarlet and Alura talked to me.
"How are you?"
I decide that I was right, all those months ago, when I said it was the worst question. We raise our society on the foundations of "How are you?" "Fine, thank you, how are you?" "Fine, thank you, now down to business." So why do we expect an honest answer now?
I've been going to the forest alot lately.
The trees aren't forgiving. The terrain is steep. Grace can be rough.
It's soothing.
I've tried riding her. It hasn't been going too well. I've almost fallen in the lake, it's hard to get her back, and finding time when Hagrid isn't there is difficult.
In another life, it would be funny.
It was almost three weeks ago when I didn't know what to say to a certain ex-friend.
I wish I had said something- anything.
Anything was better than that look- of hurt, of disappointment, of anger. I'd rather wilt in the sun like a delicate little fucking plant than ever see that look again.
"Miss Hawkings," McGonagall's voice is as sharp as ever. Her eyes are softer, though- as if concern is a flood that has damped her fire.
She asks me about one of the laws of Human Transfiguration, something I have zero answers to, and she knows it.
It's not the same.
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Clover Hawkings and the Triwizard Tournament
Fanfiction★It's not too late to by happy again ★ ᴄʜᴀʀʟɪᴇ ᴡɪʟʟᴏᴡ is dead- murdered by a former accomplice. The movement she left behind, however, is very much alive. Fifteen-year-old ᴄʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴡᴋɪɴɢꜱ has gone through alot. Too much. There's a deadly secret in...
