That night, Posie had a difficult time sleeping as she couldn't help but feel numb, drained, and heavy all at the same time. She had wanted so badly to walk over to Dahlia to at least say hello, despite the fact that she had sent a dozen or so owls to her over the summer. She was, by the way, still waiting for her to respond. The distance between hers and Dahlia's beds seemed so far away, a lot further than she once remembered. 

Posie wondered if Dahlia still remembered the moments of them staying up at night talking about anything that flew past by their minds, or the random moments of comfortable silence in between conversation that she relished.

Did she?

It was Pansy's loud talking that pulled Posie from her sea of thoughts, and as she looked across the room, she saw that Dahlia's bed was neatly spread and empty. 

Pansy's voice drew nearer as she swung her hips with every step. She noted how much Pansy had changed over the summer. Her usual messy eyebrows were now pricked and neat, her straw-like hair cut in a rather stylish bob, which highlighted the rough lines on her square face. However, this didn't deter her proud personality as she held her head up high, as though balancing a full cup of water on her forehead. A frown was plastered on her face as her nostrils flared in disgust. Millicent Bulstrode stood behind her with Tawny, her pet cat, nestled into her arms, purring lightly, oblivious to the quarrel around her.

"Keep that thing away from me! I swear, Milly, if I smell the slightest aroma of that thing's stench, I promise you'll find it missing...permanently." said Pansy hotly, causing Millicent to send her a sulky look.

"I wish you'd disappear permanently." This smug comment didn't go past Pansy, and the two broke out into a heated quarrel. Mean words were thrown around by the two girls like quaffles, and the cat - who the argument started over - leaped out of Millicent's arms, swishing its thick ginger tail. 

Posie had forgotten about this morning batter and groaned, sinking further into her sheets. She thought it was the best if she stayed in the confines of her sheets. She was much safer in here than out there. A minute or so later, the room shook, owed to Millicent's hurried movements through the door. The large Slytherin girl closed it with a bang, leaving the room quiet once more.

Posie, however, didn't deem it safe to leave the comfy haven of her covers, so she stayed put. Soon, Pansy began to hum.

"You can stop pretending to sleep now." Pansy deadpanned.

Posie sighed loudly before peeping through the duvets. Slowly, she came wiggling from underneath them. Pansy's back was turned to her as she inspected a split end in her hair.

"Odd, I thought you had left with Dahlia." Pansy said innocently, though the smug glint in her eye belied her sinister intent. 

Her voice was light and somewhat daring as she shot a look over to Posie, a smile growing on her lips. Posie's head hung immediately at hearing Pansy's words.

"Erm... I-I decided to sleep in." The lie fell from Posie's mouth effortlessly, but Pansy was not fooled.

"You were never great at lying, so I don't know why you think it'll do you any good now." Pansy snorted, continuing with, " If I must say, I don't really care what is happening between you two, but it's good that you dropped her. She was bad news if you ask me. Better you drop something that's not going to benefit you in the end, than carrying it around just going to weigh you down. Also, who wants extra luggage? Especially someone like Dahlia...she's trouble."

With that said, Pansy threw her brush onto her bed, but not before sparing a glance at Millicent's vanity mirror.

"Better hurry before all the good stuff is gobbled up by Crabbe and Goyle." With those words, Pansy shut the door behind her with a bang, leaving the dormitory.

Posie sighed. She was just too tired for this - she thought - as she dissolved into her sheets.

•

Pansy's words didn't marinate inside Posie as she made her way up the steps from the dungeons. However, she was halted near the doors of the Great Hall by a thunderous voice. It echoed off the walls and shook the floors, its power causing dust particles to sprinkle from the ceiling. It didn't take Posie long to decipher that a howler was the culprit, and she quickly made her way through the door to see who it was for. 

Unsurprisingly, the howler was for the shrinking red ball of a mess known as Ronald Weasley.

He sat so low in his chair that it had taken Posie quite some time before she spotted him. Mrs. Weasley's voice echoed in the hall, along with the sound of some students snickering. As the last sound of the screeching voice oozed forth from the letter, it burst into terrifying flames that died just as quickly they flickered out like foil. There was an agonizing pause before a few Slytherins broke it with laughter, soon followed by others. Posie too joined in neglecting to hide the horrendous grin on her face as she sauntered over to the table.

Not long after, Posie had gotten some buttered toast and jam onto her plate, listening intently to the terrible mocking of Mrs. Weasley. It was there that she remembered the encounter at the train station with her mother and the pudgy red woman, and how much she differed from the terror everyone was just introduced to. She imagined Mrs. Weasley creating the howler, and how red her face must've been, and was immediately reminded her of her own mother. Suddenly feeling sick, Posie didn't see when Professor Snape came around, handing out the timetables, his cloak billowing behind him.

Pansy craned her neck over Posie's shoulders with a speck of jam on her cheeks.

"Serve the Weasley boy right. Honestly, I'm a bit disappointed that both of them didn't get the boot, but what should you expect? Anyone associated with Saint Potter can get away with anything." spat Pansy, "Even endangering the entire wizarding world!"

Pansy then started to eat her oatmeal, oblivious to the jam on her cheek. She was right though, thought Posie, as she looked over to Potter and his friends. They always got away with everything, from causing the death of Professor Quirrell, to taking Slytherin's spot for the House Cup, and now this? And what punishment do they get? A simple slap on their wrist? Posie couldn't help but wish the howler wasn't the end of their embarrassment parade, as she, too, hoped that Dumbledore wasn't headmaster.

Soon, the girls made their way down the green path to their first class of the morning - herbology. Neville, from his in the front of the classroom, was flushed. It wasn't a secret that this was his favorite subject, and he couldn't wait to get started. However, his excitement didn't deter Draco's antics, as he used a stick to dig into Neville's cloak hem, causing him to fall flat on his face. His books roll around him, and his ink bottle clattered onto the grass, oozing thick dark liquid down the path.

Draco burst into laughter along with his cronies, Pansy the loudest of all as tears threatened to fall from her eyes. She nudged Posie in her ribs.

"P-pathetic right!?" she asked breathlessly. Posie looked over her shoulders to see a few others laughing, while some glared daggers at Draco. Dean Thomas, along with Seamus Finnigan, helped Neville up. The clumsy Gryffindor's eyes were red.

"Don't worry, mate. Don't let them get to you. They're just a bunch of mussy." Posie heard Seamus telling Neville, while Dean nodded firmly in agreement.

Posie turned to Pansy, giving her a shrug as she was too sick to answer. However, she never once stopped to help as she held her head down, trotting onward.

The rest of the day was a blur, and Posie was pleasantly surprised to realize that she actually enjoyed her Transfiguration class. The disappointed faces of Potter and Weasley, sputtering around like fish, were all she needed to lift her mood since she was successful at turning all her beetles into buttons. She beamed proudly when Professor McGonagall appointed Slytherin with ten points. She was so caught up in her pride that she didn't notice how sick Dahlia appeared at Hermione's side, with the latter also succeeding in transforming her beetles into buttons. Rather, she focused her attention on the male part of the Gryffindor trio.

The glum look on Potter's face was better than all the gold in her vault.

However, at the end of the day, Posie's good mood waned, as she was now convinced that her headmaster had actually lost his mind, as her Defense Against The Dark Arts class was a complete joke. She had thought she would see the Weasley twins - or anyone for that matter -  jump from behind Lockhart's desk to proclaim that this was a sick prank of some sort. 

She couldn't find herself staying another second in his class without going bat crazy. How could Posie take her school work seriously when her teacher was incompetent at his job?

She almost threw up at the ridiculous questions printed on the exam placed in front of her.

'What's Lockhart favorite color?' she read.

She wasn't even able to get past the other questions, as she was too preoccupied with the understanding that somewhere in Great Britain, a tree had been killed for this nonsense! With Potter escaping expulsion, Dumbledore's obvious biases, dreams of death, and the drama with Dahlia, she lost her patience, storming her way down the hall. 

She didn't even notice how sickly pale Dahlia was beside Hermione as they both swooned over the man. With another loud grunt, she clambered down to the Slytherin common room, where she hoped she could get some rest before her next class. However, in a matter of seconds, the common room was packed with second-years chattering furiously. A few red marks could be seen on their skins, their clothes disheveled. The loudest of all was Pansy, who was almost in tears as she screamed at how ridiculous her hair looked. Her face was marred by various marks and bruises as she complained about the foolish Lockhart.

"Too much hair gel...probably made his head so thick." Pansy whined as she snatched a vanity mirror from Millicent, which drew a small cry of protest.

Of course, the protest fell on deaf ears. Pansy craned her neck in every angle possible, whimpering at every bruise she saw.

"What will Draco think of me now?" As the words left her lips, Pansy blushed. Her red face became redder as she pivoted her head to spot any eavesdroppers. However, everyone was too busy, or perhaps couldn't care less about Pansy's obvious crush on Draco. 

As if karma hated Pansy, Draco came storming into the common room, the corners of his hair messy and his pale face blotchy as he exclaimed:

"My father will definitely hear about this!"

Edited by a dear friend