Rejected Sociality

In the years prior to the Second Wizarding War, there was a girl growing up at Hogwarts that didn't have anything to do with Harry Potter. She was a Slytherin, in the same year as the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan. Though she was Slytherin, she wasn't evil or a bully like some. Olivia Floyd was ambitious, clever, cautious, but also disabled.

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1. Chapter 1

I rolled down the hallway, searching for a compartment. I'm hoping I can find an empty compartment, seeing that my social anxiety would either make me avoid all other people or cause me to pass out with panic. Yea, yea, I know, I'm being very vague. Let me explain.

  Hi, my name is Olivia Floyd and I'm what you would call a disabled human being. Still vague. Sorry. I'm not good at talking to people. I don't usually talk to people. Ok, let's make this less vague. Sorry. I'm what you call a witch, and right now I'm going to Hogwarts. What I mean by disabled, which I said before, is that I have severe social anxiety, which is very weird, and that I'm in a wheelchair, by the way. Just a tiny detail.

 Back to what I'm doing and where I am. I'm on the Hogwarts Express, trying to find an empty compartment where I can just relax and figure out how to avoid all the people staring out of the windows. I couldn't find an empty compartment, so I started to look for a compartment with only one or two people in it.

   The people kept staring. I guess it's because it's not often that people in the magical community are in wheelchairs. The staring has almost made me break down and pass out again. Right before I did, though, a pair of hands grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and pulled me into a compartment. 

The pair of hands backed me up into the compartment, while another person shut the door and pulled the curtains. I'd started hyperventilating. I couldn't see the two guy's faces, though by their statures and heights, which were both identical, they looked my age. They pulled the light chain, and they were illuminated with the soft glow.

   They were to boys my age, who were obviously twins, that had messy red hair, mischievous brown eyes, and freckles splashed across their faces. I felt my blush creeping from my neck to my cheeks, faster than normal, and the color of their hair. They smirked identically and the one on the right said, "Hello! We saw everyone staring and you starting to freak out, so we decided to save you!"

 I could feel my blush worsening. Their smirks got even funnier, too, if that was possible. The one on the left said, "My name's George Weasley, and my brother's name is Fred! What's your name?"

    Their stares were almost as bad as the ones through the windows, but they weren't pitiful, they were curious and mischievous. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Their heads tilted a little to side, kind of like when dogs are confused about something. 

  I tried talking again, and this time sound actually came out, but I stammered. "M-my name is O-Olivia F-Floyd."

 Fred and George sad down on either side of me. One of them said, "Olivia Floyd." The other said, "Nice name!" The first said, "Olivia, are you," the other continued, "-scared of us for some reason?"

   If it was possible, I could feel my blush get worse. I stammered, "I-I get scared easily, and I-I have s-severe social anxiety. A-and you guys are k-kinda i-intim-midating when you t-talk like that." They smirked again. 

 One of them got up and pulled his trunk down from the overhead rack, putting it on one of the seats. The other leaned in, getting too close for comfort. I sat back in the wheelchair, trying to avoid closeness. He leaned back a bit, noticing my discomfort. 

 He said, "I'm George, FYI." I looked up to see, who I now knew was, Fred setting up a bucket full of water above the doorway, as if it was a trap. It would fall and soak anyone that would open the door from the outside. I turned back to George, who continued, "Are you ok with me asking you questions about yourself?" 

  I slowly nodded. For a moment it looked like he pondered my nod, then he said, "Can I ask you about your social anxiety and the wheelchair?" At that moment, fear rushed inside of me. I could almost physically feel the color drain from my face.

 Fred sat back down after he'd put his trunk back, and I saw George give Fred a mixed look of confusion and fear at the same time. I looked at the window and saw my reflection. I was paler than normal (and I'm normally very pale) and my blushing (which hasn't stopped) looks like you sprayed a white cat a streak of light red. I looked that bad. 

    George looked to Fred and back to me. "I'll take that as a no," he said "Sorry if that offended you, Olivia." I shook my head. 

 I rolled forward a bit and reclined my wheelchair. I whispered, "Shake me when we get close to Hogwarts, please."

  Fred raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Why? Are you gonna fall asleep?"

I shook my head and looked at the covered windows. I said, "Ask me another question, and I'll pass out."

 George said, "Olivia, we won't ask you another question if you'd pass out!"

 I closed my eyes and said, "George Weasley, just spare me the pain and ask me another question, just so I can pass out."

  George said, "Are you sure, Olivia?" I nodded and looked at him. He took a breath and asked, "Why are you so scared of people, and why are you seemingly scared of trusting us?"

 I could feel myself go plaster pale and looked away from him. I started to hyperventilate again. I whispered, "I've learned not to trust people. I've learned that I make people hate me." And then everything went black and I passed out.

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