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CHAPTER FOUR
Amira leans against one of the many open archways the corridor provides, allowing the refreshing autumn breeze to wash over her and quell her flushed features. Before long, these archways will be spelled shut to prevent the cold air from entering the castle, so the young girl enjoys it as long as she's able to before her first class of the new school year begins.
The pit in her stomach doesn't go away as a stronger gust of wind sends chills through her body and Amira finds herself wishing she had accepted Madam Pomfrey's offer to lay about on a cot for the day. She had visited the hospital wing directly after breakfast and Madam Pomfrey was able to heal her bruises with a simple spell, but found no cure for her mysterious memory-lapsing ailment and promised to keep looking.
Amira had told the healer everything about how she obtained her injuries, but conveniently forgot to mention the scar across her chest that's even more prominent now that the bruising has went away. She can't help but to regret this decision and it's as though her body agrees with her; with each step she takes leading her further from the hospital wing, the nauseating somersaults in her stomach only get worse.
More students - mostly first years - begin to rush through the halls, signalling it's almost time for classes to begin. Amira sighs, taking one last glance at the outside view of the rolling hills and the multi-colored leaves of the Forbidden Forest before crossing the corridor to step inside the drab and windowless classroom used for History of Magic.
Adjusting her green and silver tie, she looks around the room for any signs of her friends. Eden, despite promising to save her a seat, is already sitting next to Damion. The joint desks in front of and behind the duo are occupied as well, forcing her to sit at an empty table in the adjacent row so that she can still be close, despite the foot-long gap between each row of desks.
Amira gains their attention by scraping her chair back loudly and sitting down with a huff, sticking her tongue out childishly in response to their warm greetings.
"You can't be mad, because I have a perfectly good reason for breaking my promise," Eden jumps into her explanation before she can utter a word. "Fred and George are in this class."
"So?" Damion prompts, waiting for more information though Amira knows exactly what she meant by the simple sentence. "What do they have to do with anything?"
"The last time I kept her from sitting next to one of them, they pranked me for a week," Eden says, shuddering at the memory.
"It was their birthday," Amira reasons, her angry facade fading. "Besides, that happened four years ago! You've got to let it go."
"I most certainly will not. I was traumatized!"
"They may have acted like possessive toddlers back then, but they don't do that anymore."
