January is, without a doubt, the worst month of the year. Its only purpose is to fill up the space between Christmas and Valentine’s Day. If that wasn’t depressing enough, Hogwarts decided to ‘give purpose’ to that otherwise useless month by filling it with work. Like my job isn’t hard enough without having to write essays every five minutes. I suppose I could just not do them, but I needed to keep up in case I was ever put back into regular classes.
Not only that, but the dismal weather of dark days and blizzards put Mr. Filch into a horrible mood. Since the constant storms kept everyone inside, more and more students were perfoming magic in the corridors in a fit of cabin fever. And if you thought that was bad, you’ve never had to clean up after an indoor Care of Magical Creatures class.
I was complaining about this to Sarah and Joanna one night in the middle of January as we worked on Herbology essays. I caught Joanna rolling her eyes every now and then, but mostly they just sat and worked on their essays while I ranted. Unfortunately, this was slowing my writing down considerably, and the cold in the dungeons made it difficult to write anyway. But all the same, I was only on my third paragraph when Sarah rolled up her parchment. Joanna had finished a few minutes earlier.
“How can you possibly be finished?” I moaned. “This is impossible. Why do I need to know the seventeen variations of Devil’s Snare?” Tossing down my quill, I leaned back against the wall and shut my eyes briefly.
“Any chance you’ll get to come back to class soon?” Sarah asked, playing with a Muggle toy that she had pulled out of her pocket.
“Doubt it,” I replied, barely opening my eyes. “Mr. Filch is a true pig.” Joanna gave me a funny look.
“You call him Mr. Filch? Not Filch?”
“Of course not!” I was shocked. “That’s so rude!” It took me a moment to realize the absurdity of my statement as Sarah suppressed her laughter. “I mean… I don’t know. I’ve never called an adult by just their last name before. It’d be odd.”
“Okay, Lady Cassandra,” Sarah joked. “Forgive us for not curtsying in your presence.” She laughed, and Joanna smiled. I ignored her, going back to my essay. It was getting late, after all.
“Have you gotten any more notes?” Joanna asked softly, her eyes meeting mine. “Either type?” I shook my head.
I had been getting strange notes lately. Most of them were insults, and I tried to ignore them, but it was hard when an owl started pecking at my head until I opened them.
But every so often the same owl would send me a kind note, telling me to ‘Keep at it’ and that I was ‘Really great.’ If it weren’t for those, I’d assume they came from Alta, but she wasn’t one for trickery. Why any person would insult me one moment and compliment me the next was beyond me, but Joanna seemed to find it amusing.
“Not for a few days,” I answered. “And it’s odd. I haven’t seen Alta and Emily in a week. Usually I at least see her while I’m cleaning. It’s like she’s avoiding me.”
“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Sarah grinned. “She’s finally realized you’re not to be messed with.”
“Perhaps,” I murmured, wanting to share Sarah’s enthusiasm. Joanna looked worried, however. Did she know something I didn’t? I tried to catch her eye, but she didn’t meet mine. Why would Alta be avoiding me?
I was about to find out.
*
A few weeks later, near the end of January, I first got the idea that something was going on. It was another stormy day, so I was stuck in the library, cleaning again, while Madam Pince and Mr. Filch had a discussion in Madam Pince’s office. I was supposed to clean there, but when I tried to open the door it was locked and, from the feel of the handle, had a chair wedged against it. For people having a discussion, it was strange that I couldn’t hear them saying anything.
Shrugging, I had begun dusting off bookshelves only to stumble across Alta and Emily giggling at a table. As soon as they noticed me, the two began to giggle harder and glance at me.
“N.S.A., Pralent,” Alta told me as she stood up, Emily still giggling. “N.S.A.”
“What?” I didn’t want to interact with her, but I was curious. What in the world was N.S.A.?
“Are all Squibs this stupid, Pralent, or is it just you?” Alta grinned nastily as she shoved a piece of colorful parchment into my hands, shoving me against the bookshelf at the same time. Laughing, she and Emily gathered their things and set off.
As I read the paper, my heart sank, and I had to sit down at the recently vacated table to keep my legs from giving out underneath me.
“No Squibs Allowed,” I read, breathing a little fast. “N.S.A. for short. This includes not only Squibs, but friends of Squibs, relatives of Squibs, lovers of Squibs, and Squib sympathizers in general. If they can’t do magic, why should they get to be magical? Meetings held the first and third Thursday of every month. Ask for Alta Abrams for location.” Merlin’s beard. This was… this was about me. And despite what the multicolored paper and the swirly handwriting might suggest, this was about hate.
At least I managed to get to the bathrooms before I threw up.
*
“This is absolutely the worst thing that Abrams has ever done!” Sarah shouted, pacing back and forth in the dungeon where we gathered to do school work. I had wordlessly handed her the flyer when she walked in, and she had exploded almost immediately. Joanna was silently reading it now. “We can’t let her do this to you, Cassandra. This is the straw that broke the hippogriff’s back!” She was fuming as Joanna cleared her throat.
“Hate to interrupt your rant, but there’s something you two apparently missed,” she said calmly as she handed the flyer back to Sarah. “Our friends printed on the back as well.”
“The N.S.A. Black List,” Sarah read angrily. “The following are not to be associated with by members of the N.S.A. unless it is for purposes of taunting. Cassandra Pralent, also known as Public Enemy Number One.” My face burned. “Sarah Morgan, also known as- as…” she stopped, her hands shaking. Joanna stood up and, taking the paper from her, continued reading.
“Also known as the Ghost Girl of Hufflepuff. Joanna Ockley, also known as the Slytherin Traitor.” Johanna shrugged. “Hagrid. Filch. Jeremiah Trevelyan.” What was he doing on the list? Perhaps he had a relative that was a Squib. That would explain why he helped me on Christmas. “Ophelia Cramson.” Ophelia? Alta’s Ophelia? How was she on the black list? Joanna stopped reading. “That’s it.”
I was fuming. How dare she do this to me? I was finally doing all right at Hogwarts- nothing spectacular, but I was getting by- and she throws this at me? I was going to kill her. Alta Abrams was going to regret the day that she met Cassandra Pralent!
I must have said the last bit out loud, because Joanna shook her head. Both Sarah and I looked at her in shock.
“Revenge sounds pretty good to me, Jo,” Sarah snarled. “And if Cassandra doesn’t mind, I’d like to get in a few punches myself.”
“That’s not how to solve this!” Joanna replied, acting angry for the first time since I met her. “Don’t be stupid, Sarah. That’s what Alta wants. Then she can run crying to Professor Marchbanks and you get in trouble and Alta wins. There’s a better way.”
“Oh?” Sarah asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “And how’s that, Joanna? Just go along with it? Pretend it’s not happening? I’m sick of pretending that the hate isn’t happening! Or is this a Slytherin thing? Are you on Alta’s side because her blood us purer than mine?”
Joanna reacted like she’d been slapped. The color drained out of her face, and without a word, she gathered her things and left the dungeons, presumably to finish her essay elsewhere. Sarah was still fuming.
“Sarah, maybe you should- breathe,” I suggested. I was a bit scared. I always assumed Sarah didn’t get angry. She was usually able to brush off insults to herself. Was this because Alta was insulting me? No, that wasn’t it. Alta always insulted me. “Sarah?” I said tentatively. “Are you okay?”
“No!” Sarah whirled around to face me, and to my shock, I could see that she had tears in her eyes. “Does this indicate okay to you?”
“Well, I- I…” I stuttered. Sarah rolled her eyes, gathering up her things as well.
“Leave me alone,” she snapped as she stormed out of the dungeon. As I sat, numb, I wondered if I was right back where I started- friendless. And it was all thanks to Alta Abrams, Gryffindor life-destroyer. I hated her. I hated her so much that I-
That was when the wall exploded.
Late Bloomer by Just Tink
Chapter Notes: thanks to my wonderful beta, Anasuya! This chapter is dedicated to my friend Lisa, who helped create N.S.A. Thanks!