10. Crybaby

Crybaby by Melanie Martinez

They call you cry baby, cry baby, but you don't fucking care.



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I've been searching for my friends since I woke up, surely they would have told me if Quidditch practise was rescheduled to be earlier? But if it was a quidditch thing why would Draco be gone too? We've been back three weeks now and it's supposed to be our first quidditch practise tonight.

It's only when I'm walking in the corridor that I notice in the courtyard outside is the entire Slytherin Quidditch team minus me along with Ron, Hermione and the entire Gryffindor team arguing.

"Why'd nobody tell me practise was changed?" I sigh as I jog over. "I'll go get changed, just wait 5 minutes." I say, directing my statement towards Corbin, who looks noticeably guilty.

I note that he has the new Nimbus 2001 brooms, then my eyes dart around every member and realise the whole team does. Maybe I just didn't receive the memo that we're getting new brooms, not that I could have afforded one anyway.

"Now to answer both your questions, we've got written permission from Snape himself." Marcus grins proudly, producing a letter which Oliver Wood snatches and reads aloud.

"I, Professor Severus Snape, do hereby give the Slytherin team permission to practice today, owing to the need to train their new Seeker." Wood reads.

Everyone looks around with just as much confusion as me, staring directly at me as if waiting for me to answer. 

"I'm sorry new seeker? I'm the seeker!" I emphasis with fury. 

"You're now the substitute seeker. We've replaced you." Marcus informs me. "With who?" I demand.

Marcus steps aside and reveals Draco wearing a proud smirk.

"Malfoy?" Harry furrows his brows.

That's right. And that's not all that's new this year." He gestures to the brooms I spotted earlier. "Those are Nimbus 2001s. How did you get those?" Ron gapes in shock. 

"A gift from Draco's father." Marcus informs us. "So he bought his way in?" I scoff furiously. 

"You see, Bronwyn, unlike some, my Father values this team, and can actually afford it. Maybe if your beloved uncle could afford more than a rubbish scrap of wood he called a broom as your main Christmas present you would still be seeker." He smirks cunningly.

I'm well aware of Draco's prejudice towards those less wealthy than him, which is why I told him that my Uncle and I didn't have much money, thinking it would make him more compassionate to others not less compassionate to me.

"Excuse me?" I demand with fury, trying to ignore the quiver in my lip and glisten in my eyes.

"Is she gonna cry?" One of the boys on the team chuckles, making all the boys snicker except Corbin.

"Fuck you." I raise my voice at the boy. They all echo 'ooh's mocking me and laughing. I reach into my sock and grab my wand, pressing it against Draco's neck furiously.

"You're dead to me Malfoy, you hear me. You have no clue who you've just messed with." I raise my voice, the look on the face of the boy I once considered a friend is of genuine fear and horror.

"What's she gonna do? Call her tatty half blood uncle to defend her?" Someone mocks.

"First of all if you even think about mentioning my Uncle again I'll crucio your dick and hang you over a fire pit by the balls. And second, maybe my uncle doesn't seem intimidating to you but I'm sure my Azkaban parents would if I got them on you." I find myself smirking.

I've never been proud of my parents, and I don't like the way I'm threatening people with them. I know they don't know who my parents are and I don't want them figuring it out, but there are upwards of 200 prisoners in Azkaban so the chances of them finding out exactly who my parents are is slim, even slimmer considering the stupidity of these people. But that still doesn't mean I want to spread it around that my parents are prisoners. 

That look of terror on Draco's face spreads to all of the team who look genuinely scared of me. I don't know why when half of their parents were death eaters too, I guess I just intimidated them in this moment.

"Congrats on making the team. I hope it was worth it." I smile falsely and start to walk away, before Corbin grabs me by the wrist and pulls me back, all eyes from both teams face us but don't interfere.

"Goldy, you okay?" He frowns. "I recall you calling me Goldy because I caught the snitch? Since that won't be happening again you'll have to retire that nickname and perhaps give it to your new seeker. But I'm afraid he won't be catching any golden snitches, so you may just have to call him shit because that's what he'll be eating." I say flatly.

"Come on kid, it's just a game. You know substitutions have to be made." He explains.

"Usually you're supposed to substitute your bad players for good ones instead of your best player for some greasy haired—" One of the twins starts to say calmly.

"You know the least you could have done was told me. Gave me a heads up so I didn't completely embarrass myself." I interrupt him, staring only at Corbin with betrayal in my teary eyes.

"You didn't embarrass yourself. You might if you keep being such a crybaby—" He scoffs.

I cut him off with a sharp slap across the face, hopefully smacking some sense into him. Gasps and 'ooh's can be heard across the crowd.

"You've made it a lot easier for Gryffindor to win now by taking out one of the best players your team has seen in a while." Hermione says pointedly.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood!" Draco spits with disgust.

"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy! Eat slugs!" Ron yells with a rather questionable looking wand.

The spell backfires, throwing him backwards and onto the ground where his two best friends race to comfort him. Normally I'd find this hilarious, but right now I'm staring at Corbin with sadness.

We watch as he throws up a grim looking slug and turns as white as a sheet. The two rush him off to Hagrid's hut. 

The Slytherin team all keep walking and start to practise in the distance. I feel a tear shamefully dribble down my cheek, not necessarily about the revoking of my position, more-so about how things went down and the way Draco publicly told anyone with ears that my Uncle doesn't have much money.

"You alright Lupin?" Oliver Wood asks, I'm 100% sure last year he wanted me dead because he loves quidditch so much that he didn't like me challenging his team. But I know he's a kind guy and he probably understands the ludicrousness of kicking me off the team.

"Oh yes, Wood. Never better." I smile sarcastically, swatting away the tear before any of them can see it.

"That was so unfair." Katie says. "Well spotted. Thanks for pointing that out." I quip. "They'll realise they made a mistake when Malfoy loses every game." Angelina comforts.

"And they'll still do nothing because Lucius Malfoy is a manipulative cunning bitch! And his hair is better than mine!" I yelp the last part jealously.

"Lupin, if you'd like I can have a word with McGonagall and if she doesn't mind you could start training with us?" Wood offers.

"Why would I do that?" I laugh.

"Well you get to keep playing the game you clearly love whilst getting practise. And we get someone for Harry to practise against." He justifies.

It sounds reasonable, seekers can never train because they have nobody to train against. But I'm a Slytherin and joining them would mean actually tolerating them enough to withstand more than an hour of their infuriating personalities.

"I'll think about it. But that does not mean yes or anything close to it." I warn. 

☾♥

I've been avoiding Corbin and Draco all day, not that they've made any efforts to talk to me. I've got Lockhart this period sitting next to Draco, to my expectation he sits at the back of the class beside Crabbe and Goyle instead, leaving me alone.

"Bronwyn? A word." Lockhart smiles smugly. I glance around my peers as if expecting another Bronwyn to stand up. I groan and scrape my chair out, approaching his desk.

"Talk amongst yourselves!" He orders the class but everyone is too nosey and desperate to hear ur conversation.

"I noticed your homework on my novel 'Wandering with Werewolves' wasn't submitted, is there an issue?" He asks carefully.

"Nope. All is grand." I smile. "Then why have I not seen your homework?" He presses.

"Well for starters I think your take on werewolves is false and frankly disgusting. Werewolves aren't monsters like you seemed to incessantly depict them as. I think your story sounds unreliable and unrealistic. I really just don't believe it if I'm honest. I think your entire career is built off of lies and manipulation. I also just didn't feel like writing a 4 page essay on your dream birthday present? Ooh, I forgot to say I also don't respect you whatsoever as a teacher or person." I explain very calmly with a polite and smug smile.

He is clearly furious but knows the entire class is watching. "Interesting take. However it's incorrect. I let you off with missing 6 detentions at the start of term however this simply cannot be brushed past. You'll have detention this week without excuses or I'll be informing the head of your house and perhaps even Dumbledore himself." Lockhart grins.

I know I will not be showing up to said detentions and will happily tell Snape or Dumbledore exactly what I just told Lockhart.

"Very well." I nod sharply, returning to my seat and continuing to draw explicit images in the corner of this workbook he gave us, which I most certainly do not plan on completing.

As surprising as it may sound, I do well in classes, but Lockhart has set me off and I'm in protest of his class. Which is a shame because I do enjoy Defence Against the Dark Arts. Which is even more weird considering my last teacher was working with you know who. 

☾♥

I went to bed. I was sure I had gone to bed. But then I heard a voice, i'm sure I did. A voice telling me where to go.

A cat. It's hanging upside down by its tail. There's blood on the wall. I touch it just to be sure, it's indefinitely blood, running down my two fingers and tracing down my wrist.

"Oi! Brownyn!" A voice said from behind. 

I break free of my momentary trance and find Corbin along with almost everyone in this entire school staring directly at me.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware." Draco reads, glaring to all the Gryffindors. "You'll be next mudbloods." He spits.

I blink and finally turn around to see the message, just as Draco read. 'The chamber of secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware.'

"What's going on here?" Flich pushes through the crowds, "Go on, make way, make way."
"Lupin... what are you...?" He gestures to my bloody fingers. "Mrs. Norris?" He cries out. "You murdered my cat!" He accuses.

"Are you mental?" I furrow my brows, realising just now how this looks. A completely disoriented girl blacked out stumbles across dead cat and touches the message in blood making it seem like she was the one who wrote it.

"I'll kill you. I'll kill you!" He yells furiously. I don't back down, knowing if I cower away I'd seem afraid or as if I'm guilty in some way.

"Argus?" Dumbledore interrupts. Snape, McGonagall, Lockhart and him squeeze through the crowds. "Argus, I..." He trails off upon seeing the message.

"Everyone will proceed to their dormitories immediately." Dumbledore orders, everyone starts to disperse and leave, following prefects and friends. I make a move to go back to my dorm. Before I can I'm interrupted by Dumbledore's voice. "Everyone except.. you."I'm very well aware that once everyone has cleared off there are three bodies hiding behind a wall watching this conversation, if only Filch would move I could see who it is.

"She's not dead, Argus." Dumbledore assures him calmly. "She has been petrified." He explains."Ah. Thought so. So unlucky I wasn't there. I know exactly the counter-curse that could've spared her." Lockhart sighs, I know my disgusted glare does not go unnoticed. "But how she has been petrified I cannot say." Dumbledore continues.

"Ask her. It's her that done it. You saw what she wrote on the wall. She's been caught red handed!" Filch persists."I know how it looks. I just touched the blood because I found it. I have no business 'petrifying' your cat. And if that's all I'll be going." I clarify firmly.

"Rubbish." Filch booms. "If I might, headmaster. Perhaps Bronwyn here has simply found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. However, the circumstances are suspicious. I for one don't recall seeing her or the Potter boy at dinner." Snape adds.

"I'm afraid that's my doing, Severus. You see, Harry was helping me answer my fanmail. As for Bronwyn, she was supposed to be after failing to complete her homework however she mysteriously did not show up." Lockhart ponders, knowing damn well I was never showing up.

"I'm truly sorry professor. I don't enjoy responding to the 'fanmail' you write yourself. And spending any time with you is actually my idea of hell, so please forgive me I was sleeping." I snarl.

"Now if you were asleep how do you suppose you made it down here?" Snape demands.

"Well I suppose it must've been sleepwalking." I shrug delicately. "And you just so happened to manage to change back into your robes with a perfectly tied tie." Snape argues.

"Don't be silly Professor. I went to sleep in this." I deny with a smirk.I see Snape ready to snap something in response. "Innocent until proven guilty, Severus." Dumbledore reminds.

"My cat has been petrified. I want to see some punishment!"

"We will be able to cure her, Argus. As I understand it, Madame Sprout has a very healthy growth of Mandrakes. When matured, a potion will be made, which will revive Mrs. Norris." Dumbledore explains carefully. "And in the meantime, I strongly recommend caution... to all." He glances to me. 



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A/N:

Still never know what to say at the end of these, thanks for reading though <33

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