“Stop being dramatic and get up. We have to meet the boys at breakfast,” she said as she chucked a pillow at my head. I sat up as the pillow hit me square in the face.
I raised an eyebrow. “Ever thought of trying out for the Quidditch team, Hermione?”
“Oh shut up Ezra,” she sighed as she walked through the door connecting our private dorms.
Thank Merlin there’d been an extra girls dorm in the Gryffindor towers this year. None of the other girls were willing to move around, but Hermione and I jumped at the chance. It’s not that Parvati and Lavender weren’t good roommates, it’s just that we preferred to keep to ourselves.
It had always been that way. Hermione was the first person I sat with on the train as a first year. Ever since then we’ve basically become inseparable. We barged in on Harry and Ron’s car together. They’d never admit it but they’d be completely lost without us.
I pulled on a white button down top, tucked it into the closest skirt I could find, and threw on my robes and tie. I was in the middle of pinning up my ebony, shoulder length hair when I heard Hermione violently knocking at my door. “Let me put on some makeup, meet me in the common room!” I hollered at her. I could practically feel her eye roll as she shuffled down the stairs. After blending out my concealer and applying a good amount of mascara, I grabbed my cauldron and met Hermione downstairs.
Ron and Harry waved us down as we entered the crowded Great Hall.
The boys and I were always really close. I would do anything for them and they would do anything for me. Harry and I often have deep talks about whatever we can. He often asks me what life was like in America. The first time he asked, I told him we don’t regard him as much of a celebrity. He was honestly taken aback at first, but then started expressing how much he would like to visit. The poor kid was tired of always being the center of attention. Harry usually came to me for advice about certain things.
“You know, I like that you don’t treat me differently,” he once said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, whenever I’m talking about something, you don’t talk to me like I’m some higher “chosen one” who is destined to save the world,” he explained.
“Oh hell, Potter, get over yourself. You’re just a person,” I chuckled, shaking my head. “Ron and Mione don’t treat you like that either.”
He was silent for a moment, thinking to himself. “They don’t but, I dunno, it’s different with you.”
“Are you professing your love to me, dear Chosen One?” I asked him mockingly.
Ron, on the other hand, always treated me like I was his sister. He’s the most overprotective git I have ever seen. When we were in our third year, a Hufflepuff in our Herbology class was trying to make a move on me. Ron caught on and sent him and all the other boys in our class running in the opposite direction.
I stormed into the common room one afternoon looking for the annoying ginger. “Ron! I swear to God, Ron!” I seethed when I finally noticed him sitting by the fireplace with Ginny and Hermione.
“Oh, hey Ezra, have you finished your potions homework yet? Hermione’s trying to help me out but won’t give me the answers I…” he finally looked up and saw I was shooting daggers at him. He at least had the good sense to look somewhat nervous. “What?” he said cluelessly.
“Don’t pretend now, Ron, you know what,” I said angrily as I crossed my arms. When he continued looking confused, I whisper shouted “What did you say to Sebastian? He won’t even look at me!”
Hermione and Ginny glanced at each other, knowing full well I was not going to be happy. “Well, I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true...Well okay, I did lie but it was-”
“What. Did. You. Say.”
Ginny finally spoke up. “Ron told Sebastian that you have these humongous pus-filled pimples on your back and that you pop them for fun. He also said you have such contagious toe fungus that you had to go to St. Mungos for a month to be treated and they still haven’t found a cure.
“Oh, don’t forget Gin,” added Hermione, trying her best to hide her smile. “He mentioned that your grandfather was a vampire so you enjoy the taste of male blood and you go crazy without your daily fix.”
I paused, taking everything in. I jumped up from my seat as Ron fearfully made eye contact with me. “Ronald Billius Weasley, YOU ARE SO DEAD,” I screamed as I began chasing him around the common room.
As we took our seats across from the two idiots in the Great Hall, McGonagall came around with our schedules for the year.
“See you tomorrow, Ms. Ayad,” she said to me as I took my schedule from her hands.
I grabbed Ron, Harry, and Hermione’s schedules to compare. “Awh, Mione, our schedules are a bit different from the boys this year,” I said aloud.
“That’s because we’re taking higher-level Potions, Muggle Studies, and Ancient Runes,” she replied.
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