Disclaimer: I do not own "Harry Potter", only my original characters.
Trigger warnings: bullying and past suicide attempts.
The unhappiness and hardly contained tears were as evident as the yellow and green liquid that had exploded in Myrtle's face, courtesy of her latest potion-making. Not daring to look at Professor Slughorn's disappointed face, she tried to ignore the snickering from the other students. Her number one tormentor was, as usual, whispering insults. Some girls were also gossiping over Myrtle's disastrous concoction.
"How could that small little thing explode like that?"
"Who can be that dumb to not know the difference between devil's root and monkshood?"
"She's such a disgrace for Hogwarts."
"A failure, that's what she is: a failure!"
JUST STOP, PLEASE! Myrtle shut her eyes and blocked the voices with her arms, but she knew the voices would never stop, which had led her to the usual spiral of grief and depression that Azure – she had only recently started addressing the Slytherin girl by her preferred nickname, showing that Myrtle trusted her more than she had ever trusted anyone, save for Minnie of course – didn't know.
What would her friend say about thinking of throwing herself off the Astronomy Tower, the dangerous thoughts of self-harming, some of which Myrtle had decided to act upon them and as a result, Madam Burnett had spent months nursing her back to health, the thin marks on her wrists and arms forever a reminder?
Why wasn't I born normal like my family! As if on purpose, a pair of haughty periwinkle blue eyes and a pale face framed by perfectly combed wavy hair flashed in her mind. Her "perfect sister" Holly Victoria. Myrtle was always mentioned in comparison to Holly. She had seen through all the polite smiles her family put on their faces. And she hated that they couldn't accept her. A witch in the family?
"How blasphemous," her grandparents had said.
Keane was the exception; after confiding in him she was attending Hogwarts, he had replied that he too was aware that magic existed but this had been kept a secret from their family. His employer was a famous wizard who maintained a cordial relationship with non-magical people and some well-known supernatural creatures. He was also a teacher at Beauxbatons Academy, a magical school located in France.
In the letter, Keane had advised her to not try too hard and to have some fun at times; to study was important but health always came in first. Myrtle's eyes were teary after she read the whole letter, gently holding the monochromatic moving picture depicting her brother and his fiancée.
Myrtle's happiest time was when she was with Grandpa or with Keane. Her brother did not favour either of his sisters over but Myrtle liked to think he loved her more; it was Keane who had offered her the silver crucifix Myrtle always wore under her uniform and also the person who had offered to buy a new owl for Myrtle after her companion had died from poisoning in her second year. During that year's Christmas Holidays, she had remained holed up in the bedroom, crying all by herself while her sister was busy with the choir and piano lessons. But on Christmas Eve, Myrtle had hugged her brother with a strength she didn't know she possessed as she cursed the day her Arithmancy Professor appeared in Beaufort. Keane had stayed with her until she stopped crying.
In the end, Myrtle was afraid of dying. To make things worse, suicide was very frowned upon in her family. Her grandparents firmly believed that witchcraft was "the Devil's work"; since she was a witch, Hell was the only choice for her Soul to go to after death.
But Keane would be so sad...
A scene of her childhood appeared on her mind: a broadly smiling Myrtle riding on her brother's back as her small hands pulled his messy fiery red hair. Holly was not there; this memory belonged to Myrtle and to her brother alone.
"I did not ask to be a witch! I HATE IT, I HATE IT ALL!" The words left her mouth before she could realize it. Tear-eyed, Myrtle saw Professor Slughorn with an unreadable expression and arms behind his back. The entire classroom had fallen into silence, except for the murmurs of the Potions Professor, eyebrows now slightly furrowed. After very long five minutes, the pudgy man placed one finger under his chin in contemplation.
"Perhaps this could work for Miss Orren..."
The mistakenly pronounced surname was no news to Myrtle; Professor Slughorn only bothered to address correctly his best students, and during private occasions, he would call them by their first name. Those students were part of the "Slug Club". In that case, he would never get their names wrong. Professor Binns had this habit as well; the Ghost had called her "Warner" more times than she could count.
"Miss Fortescue, you will pair up with Mr McBraggen."
As if on cue, the pretty blonde girl with light blue eyes who used too much make-up for a class gracefully rose from her seat next to Myrtle's, going to join the sandy-haired – his name was actually McLaggen – who had a bored look on his half-sleepy face, but not before sending her previous partner one last disdainful sideways glance.
"As for you, I think I have the ideal partner..." Their Professor's eyes trailed to the opposite corner where Myrtle was, finding the girl from Slytherin who unsurprisingly was sleeping on the desk. Not even her partner had tried to wake her up.
Myrtle could only ask herself how on earth the girl managed to sleep through class and have stellar grades in Potions and Transfiguration.
"By Merlin's beard...Miss Ashlane!"
Professor Slughorn's reprimanding voice started to echo throughout the room, making the dark blue-haired girl instantly stand up straight. "Sir."
"From now on, you will pair up with Miss Orren..."
"Warren," Myrtle muttered, expecting him to not remember her proper name.
However, a couple of seconds later, Professor Slughorn cleared his throat. "Oh my, was it Miss Warren?" Myrtle gave him a tiny nod before casting her eyes down, hands on her lap as he continued, "As I was saying, Miss Ashlane, you will help Miss Warren to the best of your abilities, which I am sure this will not prove as much of a challenge as it appears to be."
Azure nodded and, as soundlessly as possible, she picked up her materials and the small pouch before sitting next to a still puffy-eyed Myrtle who had stopped crying. The Slytherin produced a handkerchief out of her cloak, which the other girl shyly accepted.
"Mr Riggs, on the other hand, will join Miss Ashlane's former partner, Mr Flint." From the corner of her eye, she saw Lance Higgs take his seat next to a corpulent boy with dark brown hair. "Now, shall we continue?"
And with that, the class resumed where it had stopped, Azure's advice and guidance proving to be far more worth than Myrtle's partners of the last two years.
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