Today, I didn't have potions. Or any other class for that matter. I would have the next 12 hours to myself. Still groggy, I burrowed myself into my warm, maroon sheets. Speaking of sheets....my mind had been going into places it most certainly didn't belong. And the fact that I loved a certain Professor didn't help. It made it ten times worse. For example: Every time I see him, my mind wonders. Not always to the 'forbidden realm' as I call it, but enough to get me scolded by him. Which makes my hopeless crush increasingly more hopeless. I let out a long, sad sigh. Why did my brain have to pick him? The brooding, dark, cunning, handsome - No, (Y/n)! I scolded myself. Stop! This is bad, for the both of you. I internally sighed and shuffled out of my bed. I put my regular school attire on, just not my robes. Grabbing my hairbrush and toothbrush, I did my morning routine. My (y/h/l) (y/h/c) bed hair was a force to be reckoned with. After several attempts I managed to get it into uniform style. I brushed my teeth fairly quickly and headed down to breakfast.

I quickly began to smell the aroma coming from the Great Hall. Why did it have to be so tantalizing?! I began to walk faster. The Great Hall was illuminated with it's great torches and colorful Hogwarts banners. Toast, waffles, eggs, bacon, sausage, cereal, oatmeal (whole grain or regular), milk, pumpkin juice, orange juice, anything really, was served for breakfast. I sat down at the table with the rest of the Gryffindors, who greeted me with,

"Hey (Y/n)!" Said a round-faced first year.

"Grab something to eat will you? You might die of starvation or something..." said a seventh year.

"Glad to see your nose isn't busted! How is it anyways?"

"Hey guys!" I gave them a bright smile. I grabbed a piece of toast and filled my goblet with some milk. "My nose is feeling much better Thomas, thank you."

I munched on my toast for a while until I heard the wingbeat of hundreds of owls. Grey, Snowy, Pygmy, Desert, Barn, and many other species of owls came through the rafters and dropped off the parcels of mail sent from children's parents or relatives. I had an owl, but I just had him for company. He was the last gift my parents ever gave me... My parents who were long gone and wanted nothing to do with me. I had been pitied for it obviously, but I always told them to stop: Pity won't fix it or change it. It did nothing except make it worse. At least, that's what I knew. Still munching on my toast, I glanced over at the Teacher's table.

A Professor cloaked in a velvety green was in a deep conversation with Professor Flitwick, the small Charms teacher. McGonagall taught transfiguration (one of my favorite subjects) and it seemed logical she be talking to the Charms Professor. They seemed to be arguing about the best spell to make something fly- Wingardium Leviosa, or transfigure the object into the bird and back. I thought Flitwick's method would work better because Transfiguration is a subject one can easily mess up on.

Hearing a large, bellowing laugh, I knew it was from Hagrid. With a 7 foot height, a bushy black beard, and a moleskin pelt, it was quite obvious that he was a half-giant. It appeared that Professor Sprout had told him some sort of creature joke, since she was laughing along with him. My eyes wandered to the middle of the table, where the headmaster sat. Dumbledore's twinkling eyes peered over the masses of students and through the doors of Hogwarts. I wondered what his former House was.

"Hey, what house was the Headmaster in?" I whispered to Corrine.

"Gryfindor." She whispered back. "Though I thought it was Slytherin at first."

I nodded. I could see Dumbledore flirting with just about anyone with ease when he was younger. And playing clever pranks so that no one could trace it back to him. I chuckled at the thought.

My eyes shifted to his left, where Professor Snape was. He was eating something, so that was good. There were rumors floating around that he was a vampire or something. Of course, I never believed them. I took another bite of toast when he looked directly at me. Black eyes bearing into my (y/e/c) ones. It felt like he was searching my soul. Even if it took a second. I gasped and the food in my mouth started to choke me. I grabbed my throat and spat and coughed out toast all over the floor.

And I'm pretty sure everyone saw that, hence the erupting laughter from all around. I looked up at the table again, and I saw the corner of a black cloak flick around the corner. Nice going (Y/n): now he thinks you're both crazy and possessed. I ran out of the hall, my shoes clicking against the stone floor. Running up the stairs I said the password to the Fat Lady (sizzling salamanders) and jumped through the portrait hole. No less then a few minutes my friends came barging in and tried to scrape me off the floor.

"Don't worry, it wasn't that bad-"

"Yeah, everyone gags once in a while-"

"Let's get you cleaned up, love."

Refusing to leave the floor, Thomas and Matt hauled me to the bathroom by my arms. Then some fourth years cleaned me up and gave me some new clothes to wear. They managed to settle me on the maroon leather couch.

I sniffled. "Thank you so much guys. What would I ever do without you?"

"Oh, I don't know. But I'll think of something." Said Matt. He is known for being a showboating loud mouth. But he was a good guy nonetheless.

I let out a small chuckle. "I know."

At one point, the couch started to feel uncomfortable, so I moved up to the dormitories. The plush gold and red carpet squashed underneath my feet as I made my way to my bed. I undid the sheets and got in the covers.

For the rest of the day, I camped out in the girls dormitory. I skipped lunch and dinner, not wanting to gag again, making a fool of myself. I grabbed a book to read and a glass of tap water. Eventually, it started to rain and I let the window open a little bit so I could smell the sound of cleaning. The soft pitter-patter was always a comfort to me. I watched the rain fall onto the rocky ground below and drip into the Black lake.

Rap tap tap. Tapity rap tap.

An abnormal rhythm knocked at the glass pane. I ignored it, flipping a page.

Rap tap tippity tap.

The noise continued for a while until I groaned and rolled over to look out the window properly. It was my Barn Owl, Dean.

I glanced over at my window. Why was Dean here? I never got mail...I quickly opened the window and let him in. He flapped his damp, brown-white feathers while I untied the small parcel around his leg. It was a small bottle with some liquid sloshing around inside. There was a note attached: drink quickly.

I weighed the pros and cons of this. It could be poison, or it could be a Weasley prank.

Whatever.

I uncorked the bottle and downed it. It tasted horrible. I gagged horribly. But nothing came out. Not even the tiniest drop. Soon, I felt a headache arise and it made my head pound. But it faded away within a few minutes. I told my friends about it and they all said it was from a secret admirer who must've seen your incident in the Hall. Or that someone told Pomfrey about it and she sent it to you. Or a stalker just dropped it off (thanks for the idea Matt). But I wondered...could it have been him? Hm. Probably not. It was unlikely, Snape making a potion for someone willingly? I almost laughed out loud.

Yeah, right.