Half-Blood

Fifty years after Harry Potter destroyed Lord Voldemort, the biggest threat of the wizarding world, there was finally peace. Erela Harris, an awkward witch, starts her life off in Hogwarts to try and discover who she really is, all while struggling to fight her unknown destiny. Only when the time comes will she face the choice between what is right and what is easy.

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34. Silly Thing

    It was just getting ridiculous now!

    Whenever Erela walked around the corner, Landon walked the other way. Most likely from recognizing her scent or the sound of how she walked set him off and turned away to avoid her. He chose not to eat whenever she ate in the Great Hall. Hell! He even sat on the other side of the classroom during lectures. Whenever the Hufflepuffs had classes with the Slytherin’s, Michael sat beside her to fill that empty chair Landon once took up before the accident.

    “You guys broke up?” Michael asked.

    “No . . .” Erela shook her head. “I don’t think so . . .”

    “It would be pretty normal if you were the last person to know your boyfriend broke up with you,” he shrugged.

    “He hadn’t . . . said anything like that,” she hesitated. “Just . . . having a little tension between us, I guess,” she started.

    “If he hurts you, it’s okay for me to punch him right—”

    The sound of a ruler slapped against their table, snapped them out of their conversation in rigid shock and looked up at Professor Haxel. “How often do I have to keep telling you two to pay attention during lecture?” he asked.

    “Sorry sir . . .” they both said in unison.

    The class quietly chuckled at the two.

    Haxel continued on with the lecture and eyeballed Michael and Erela from time to time. When the two sat together, everyone knew they were bound to talk during class, whether it be out loud or in whispers. Erela took a peek toward Landon, who had glanced at her for a moment before he pried his eyes away. Erela huffed and looked back to Professor Haxel and listened to the rest of the lesson.

    Once he dismissed class, everyone started to pack up or bolt out of the room immediately. “Go talk to him,” Michael sighed.

    “It’s fine . . .” Erela insisted. He needed his space to think anyway . . .

    Michael groaned and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “Honestly, whatever it is, it’s probably not an issue.”

    It actually is . . ., she thought to herself.

    “What aren’t you telling me, Ela?” he asked.

    Crap . . . he could read her like a book, as usual. “It’s pretty personal . . .”

    “That never stopped you before . . .”

    “It’s something between Landon and I.”

    The Slyhterin boy sighed and pulled the strap of his bag over is shoulder. “Fine . . . protect your monster—”

    “Too far, Hughs,” she snapped.

    Michael grabbed her injured arm and pulled her out of the classroom. His fingers were wrapped around her bandages, hard against the open wounds that stung her. But she had to hold her voice to keep it a secret. Michel’s grey eyes looked down at her arm and squeezed it, hurting her more. Oh no . . . he could tell! Her arm felt too stiff to be natural.

    When they walked upon the green quad, Michael turned his attention to her. “What did he do to you?”

    “Nothing . . .” she lied and tried to pry his hand from her. “This hurts, you know . . .”

    Michael grasped her harder, that time he got a small cry out of her. “You’re usually okay with this much strength whenever we wrestled . . .” he muttered.

    “Ever consider that you’re still developing and have grown much stronger than me?” Erela hissed and pulled away.

    The boy looked down at his hand when he felt something wet on him. On his hand, there was blood. “Don’t think it has anything to do with that . . .” he said and showed her his bloodied hand for a moment and shoved his hand into his trouser pocket so others didn’t see. Thank Merlin for black robes to hide the blood stained arm on Erela. “What did he do?”

    “He didn’t do anything. I did this . . .” she started. “I got too close to the Whomping Willow . . .”

    “You’re a bad liar. Always have been,” he shook his head. “Spill.”

    “No.”

    “Erela—”

    “She’s not going to tell, just let it go.”

    Erela looked back to find Landon taking long strides toward the two. “Landon, I can handle this . . .” she said inaudibly.

    “Well well, you trained him so well he comes back to his master without even calling back. And without a leash! How do you do it, Ela?” Michael started. And again with Michael the asshole vs. Landon the prick.

    "Let her go, numbskull. Can't you see you're making her uncomfortable?" Landon growled.

    The Slytherin boy completely ignored the question and got into Landon's face. "What did you do to her?"

    "Christ almighty," she cursed under her breath. "Nothing."

    Landon shoved Michael back from him. "It wasn't on purpose. Whatever, hate me and shit, just leave her alone."

    "Now I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't care, now would I?" he narrowed his eyes at him.

    "That wasn't caring. That was being such an aggressive asshole you popped her scabs right open,” Landon snarled at him.

    "Now I wasn't aware she was hiding a wound under all those layers," he scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Bet you chased after her for a kill, mongrel."

    Oh my god, SERIOUSLY Michael!

    Landon clenched his fist, and bit his lip. Erela could practically read the restraint to punch out Michael he was fighting off. "Think whatever you want, bastard," he growled and turned to walk away.

    Dammit. Erela turned and shot a look at Michael. “Thanks . . .” she started bitterly and booked it after Landon before Michael could respond. “Landon, hold on,” she called after him, picking up her feet after the boy.

    “No,” he mumbled and kept walking. “It’s best if we just stopped hanging out.”

    Erela immediately felt a pang in her chest. “Wait what?” she started as if someone had knocked the breath out of her.

    “I think you need to stay away from me . . .”

    Don’t jump to conclusion. Don’t freak out, she kept telling herself as we as she kept her pacing with him. “It was an accident . . .” she reassured.

    “But you shouldn’t have been put in that position in the first place,” Landon muttered.

    “It was my choice to be put in that position,” Erela reminded him. She was the one that wanted to be by his side and make the transformation as comfortable and safe for him.

    “God dammit, are you even listening to me?” he growled in annoyance and turned to her.

    “Of course I am,” she narrowed her eyes at him. It was no use, she couldn’t help BUT jump to conclusions on Landon’s decision. Erela kept a straight face to hide the hurt and sighed, “So you honestly want me to stop hanging around you . . .?”

    “I think so . . .” Landon said and looked away.

    Another heart clenching pang. “Alright then . . .” she muttered and ran her fingers through her hair. She would respect his decision . . . as much as she had hoped it would be a mutual decision. “I’ll see you around, Wisenburg,” she muttered bitterly and walked away.

    Don’t cry . . . don’t cry . . . She felt her body intensely heat up, her body felt numb, her chest hurt immensely . . . god, did romance always hurt that badly? The lanky girl wasn’t even sure if it was even worth it.

    Erela took long strides into the library, somewhere she could be alone and somewhere quiet for her to try and relax. Besides, she needed to do her schoolwork and it would help distract her from what just happened. It was a win-win really . . . she felt like she had been lazing about with her schoolwork the past month. It was fine . . . no big deal really . . .

    When she picked a book off the shelf, she noticed how badly her hand was shaking. Stop it . . . it wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t . . . And yet, why did it hurt so much and why were there tears . . .?

    Erela pursed her lips and wiped those tears away, but they wouldn’t stop and kept on coming. Before she knew it, she sunk into a ball and silently cried in her knees. Stop crying . . . you’re being silly, Erela tried to tell herself but it was just no use.

    Love wasn’t worth that much pain . . .

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