Black

XXXIX // Foresight and Fortuitousness

Saturday

29 March, 1978

The Trophy Room

So it turns out polishing trophies when you're hungover is far less fun than it sounds, and it really sounds not fun whatsoever. Annoyingly, Black is serving his second detention with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest, and I have to hang out with Filch? Who on earth decided that was any sort of fair! Probably Filch. 

At least he didn't threaten to hang me up by my toes in the dungeons today. Clearly there could be worse situations. 

The worst thing of this all is that it's the first day of the last break we have before we're going to be absolutely murdered by a whole heap of crazy wizards. 

By that I mean our NEWTs are almost here. 

I'm almost tempted to do something wild like fake my death to get out of doing them. 

Well, not really. Black wouldn't cope and I'm sure I'll do fine. Although if I don't get all O's I might actually injure someone. No promises. 

I guess I'm just feeling quite antsy seeing as I'm spending my holidays so far polishing trophies. It's bound to drive anyone mad. 

Speaking of driving people mad, Avery and his goons have actually gone insane. 

Remember that incident a week ago where I ended up in the hospital wing over basically nothing, might I add. Like, don't get me wrong, I thought it was very sweet of Black to defend my honour and my life and try and deflect all the hexes for me, but it did also lead to me getting hexed. 

Afterwards we had a conversation about it. Well, it was more of an argument than a conversation. You know how these things go. 

Something along the lines of me saying, "I'm perfectly capable of fighting my own battles, Black." 

And then he said, "I know, I know, Eva, but I don't want you to have to fight them. You shouldn't have to." 

"I want to. I like being a nuisance." 

He frowned at me. "Well I don't want you to get hurt." 

"That's a nice sentiment, but not very practical." 

He mulled that over for a second. "Eve, it's not that I don't think you're perfectly capable. You're so capable. The most capable, even. It's just, I just got you. Not that you belong to me, not at all, it's just... I wouldn't be okay if something happened to you and I could have stopped it." 

"Nothing is going to happen to me." 

I should have told him that if something happened to him and I could have prevented it I would lose my bloody mind. 

I didn't. 

"Well, I'll be holding you to that promise then," was all he said. 

But anyway. Enough sappy stuff. Avery. 

Actually, before I go there. I have realised I have no idea if his name is spelled Irvyn or Ervyn. It's not like I ever see it written down. It could be Earvinne for all I know. 

This has been plaguing my mind for like four days now, which is weird because I could not give a doxy's arse about him, but it's really peeving me for some reason not being able to remember how his name is spelled. Is this something I should look into? I wonder if I could steal a class register from someone. Actually, if I asked Flitwick I am sure he would give it to me with no issue. 

Back to the point now. After that incident a week ago I have run into him twice, and he just gave me the most horrific leer I've ever seen in my entire life each time. It's like the facial expression you'd expect from someone who just saw a prey animal catch its dinner and is enjoying watching the death of the weaker animal. It's, as the kids would say, genuinely concerning (I am the kids).