Wasn’t seventeen supposed to be the prime of your life? That’s what all the adults said, they’d give you that longing look and shake their head and tell you to make the best of those memories. It was depressing, honestly.
But on the off chance that it was true, how the hell was she supposed to make memories if they kept putting her in detention?
The audacity, honestly.
It was interesting to her, however, that there was blatant anti-muggle rhetoric popping up everywhere in the castle, threats levied against fellow muggleborns - and yet she was the one in trouble over a stupid little fight. And it wasn’t even that serious a fight. At this point, it was just how she and Lestrange communicated.
She didn’t realize she was early for her punishment until she reached the Greenhouses. She checked her watch and realized she had mixed up the detention time with their biweekly pick up practice for the Gryffindor team alternate players. Which meant she had at least half an hour until the hospital wing nurse who would be overseeing their herb harvesting showed up.
Early. She had a reputation to uphold. What would people say? So embarrassing.
She glanced towards the castle and peered into the greenhouse, before catching sight of herself in the windowpane. She looked her usual mess, her poorly done dye job obvious even in the dingy glass, her natural red hair peeking through the from-a-bottle black. She met her own gaze and grimaced. But then a thought dawned that twisted her frown into a smirk. Well, while she waited…
She swung her foot out and started to make her way around the greenhouses, reaching into her school bag. She found her trusted lighter and her enchanted mint tin. From the tin came one of her pre-rolled spliffs, which was promptly lit. Spliff in mouth, tin in bag, and rounded the corner of the greenhouse to hide from the view of the castle-
“Shit!”
Someone was already camped out here.
Plans were changing all over the place.
***