Chapter 1 : The One Where I Lose My Temper in Front of the Entire Potions Class
| ||Rating: 15+||Chapter Reviews: 4|
Background: Font color:
It’s hard to be different. I know that sounds cliché but it’s true. Everyone's telling you "to be original, to be your own person", but all that does is make you a weirdo.
Adolescence is the worst part of it though. If your peers sense any form of weakness, you’re ridiculed mercilessly for it and Hogwarts is no exception. Everyone cooped up together in a castle, there always needs to be some drama for people to talk about, and there are those who love creating it, and those who love spreading it. And then there are the people who are always the victims for something beyond their control.
I spend most of my time alone because people don’t like to be around me. It's not that I smell or anything, I just don't really like anyone. Yes, that's harsh, but every single student here is either arrogant and pompous or is a drone who blindly follows the arrogant and pompous.
Apparently I’m not as warm or friendly as the other girls, but I'm not mean or anything. I would just rather be by myself than putting in effort to entertain someone else, and people seem to interpret this as cold and stand-offish. It's not like they would want to talk to me in any case, since everyone knows about it. Classes are the worst though- when we have to partner up. If I had a galleon for every time a student complained about partnering up with the freak then I’d be a very rich witch. It's not like they ever speak to me anyway, just sit as far away from me as possible as though I were contagious, well, except for a few who would rather make my life miserable than leave me in solitude.
A wad of parchment is hurled at my head, interrupting my thoughts. Cue "one of the few who would rather make my life miserable", I wonder which clever insult it'll be this time. Merlin knows they've used them all before.
“Hey Lover Girl, whatcha doin’?”
How original. Never heard that one before. Your ingenious words astound me.I would know that voice anywhere- James Potter. He is one of the worst to tease me about my…condition, situation, whatever you call it. Him and his gaggle of heathens, or The Marauders as they call themselves, are constantly throwing parchment decorated in hearts at me or slipping love potions into my goblet at dinner. It’s enough to drive a girl crazy.
“Prongs asked you a question Lover Girl,” echoed the voice of Sirius Black.
“My name isn’t Lover Girl, it’s Amy,” I tell them, reminding them for the hundredth time, “And I’m trying to take down the potions notes so if you don’t mind I’d like to return to that.” Professor Slughorn had just left the room to fetch some more ingredients so I thought I’d take the opportunity to catch up on work. It seems James had other ideas.
“Ouch, froze my heart there Lover Girl,” he replied, lobbing anther parchment wad at me, “I’m taking notes too! All this talk of love potions is really fascinating isn’t it? And I like that Old Slug brought in some Amortentia, nice touch.” James smiles at me, feigning all innocence and says, “Tell me Torrun, what does Amortentia smell like to you?”
My heart starts to pound in my ears and I’m frozen for what seems like forever. I swallow to suppress the lump rising in my throat. It takes all of my courage to muster up the reply, “You know perfectly well what I smell Potter ,and I’d rather not discuss a question you already know the answer to.” By now the entire class had stopped copying the notes from the blackboard (or has bewitched their quills to do it for them) and all eyes were on James.
“Well just because I know doesn’t mean everyone else is on the same page. It's very rude to keep secrets Amy. The whole class must feel left out." He pouted and the rest of the Marauders smirked. "For instance I,” he inhaled deeply, “I smell the Quidditch pitch, Lily Evans’ hair and fireworks. I’m sure everyone is just dying to know about you. Isn’t that right class?” There are some murmurs of agreement but for the most part it’s silent; but silence is deafening.
"Shove off Potter" I said, keeping my head down, trying to concentrate on my notes.
"How impolite Torrun!" said Sirius Black in a mocking tone, standing up beside his best friend, obviously tired of not being included in this little "humiliate Amy" announcement. Shaking his glossy black hair off his face, he said with a smirk "Didn't anyone ever teach you manners? No, well let me help you. James shared with you what he smelled, now it's your turn."
“Fine! You want to know? Let me tell you then.” I rise, fuming, “I don’t smell anything. That’s right; Amy Torrun can’t feel love. Isn’t that just hilarious?” James and Sirius stare at me with amusement glinting in their eyes, satisfied grins on their faces.
"And why's little Torrun heartless?" asked Sirius in a baby voice. And that's when I lost it. The Marauders had goaded me countless times before, but this was the first occurrence where I actually gave in to their little ploys. And you know what did it? That one word, heartless.
"Funny Sirius, that you should be asking, since it was you who felt the need to spread it around the school!" My voice had gone to yelling level, which was so not good, but I couldn't stop now.
"Again with the rudeness! Really Torrun, you should do something about that. You could offend someone. So, why is it that you're heartless? Did we say it's because you're a psychopath, or just hate everyone or drank an anti-love potion when you were a baby or…"
"Okay, Black. Do you really want to know why, since you forget so easily? Do you want to know why Amy Torrun can't smell anything in Amortentia?" Warning: Speaking about yourself in third person is never a good sign, really. The classroom is now dead silent but I continue talking anyways, “Do you want to know why that is? Because her mother charmed her father with a love potion and now she’s just a screwed up mess!" There they’ve weaseled it out of me but it isn’t like there wasn’t a soul at Hogwarts who didn’t already know. I’m a love potion baby, and I can’t feel love.
Of course, just when I finished my little freak out, Slughorn decided to make a reappearance, and I was still standing up, red faced. Glancing over at the Marauders, I saw them sitting down in their spots like little angles, trying their hardest not to laugh. God, I just want to punch one of them. We'll see how many girls follow sodding Sirius Black around after he's sporting a black eye! Actually, they would probably find it endearing. Well, there are other places to induce pain other than the face. Looking back up from the Marauders table, I saw Slughorn staring at me furiously. Shit. I haven't seen him like this since Peter Pettigrew stole his crystalized pineapple last year.
“Detention. Ms. Torrun, for yelling that can be heard all the way down the hall. Now who, pray tell, were you shouting at?”
Just then, Sirius Black, unable to contain himself, gave a little snort of amusement, obviously getting some twisted sense of pleasure out of seeing me humiliated.
Slughorn turned quickly towards Sirius as he heard the noise and pronounced “Mr. Black, I take it that you are the source of Ms. Torrun’s temper?”
Before either of us could disagree, him to get out of detention, me out of fear for what he’d do if I let him get blamed for something, Slughorn exclaimed in his overly dramatic fashion “Another detention for you Mr. Black, to be served with Ms. Torrun at 8:00pm tonight. Shame you are such a delinquent, Mr. Black, for you show so much talent. Nothing like your brother, ever the obedient child”
At this, Sirius’ face hardened, from what I assumed was the idea of serving detention with the freak. All four marauders turned slowly to glare at me. Just my luck.
Other Similar Stories
It's Never G...