I munched on a tomato sandwich, and forced a smile at Emma, who was sitting next to me. I was still thinking about yesterday, but I tried to forget about it. But I couldn't. Why did Bruce always have to be so mean? Like, really, why?
Emma smiled back at me, and asked, "Do you want to come outside with me, and practise on your Firebolt?"
"No thanks," I replied.
Emma stared at me, and she said, "Sylvia, just forget about it, OK?" she said softly.
"No, Emma, actually I won't. Why does Bruce have to ruin everything? He does it all the time! And calling people mudbloods.... it's horrible," I said, gritting my teeth.
"Yes, I know," said Emma, "but it's over now."
I forced myself to agree with her.
"I'll just be outside, OK?"
I nodded.

The next couple of days went by. Christmas came and went, and my mother had wanted me to come home for Christmas, so of course I had to.
That night, I heard my father and mother talking in whispers by the fire. "Really?" my mother was saying. "Would you really do that?"
The door was a tiny bit open, and I saw my father nod his head.
"But you know Sylvia loves her friends - she wouldn't let anything happen to them," said Mother.
"I don't want them to be spending time with her! OK?" my father said sharply.
My mother did not say anything, but just looked at him. Then, very quietly, she said, "But we can't do this."
"What do you mean, we can't do this? I am not allowing you to be with her mudblood friends, I said!" father said angrily.
A slit of the fire-light was shining in my room, and I stared at it.
My mother stood up, and walked into the kitchen.
My father glared at her for a second, then he, too, stood up and walked to his bedroom, and shut the door tightly.