She was splayed on the
ground, her head pounding from having banged into the hard, stone floor. Spots
of light marred her vision; an uncharacteristic silence filled her ears,
occasionally punctured by a slight snigger. She was filled with helplessness,
and the overwhelming desire for a teacher to pass by the scene.

“Come on, get up. I’m
not done with you yet,” taunted a high pitched, nasally voice, edged with eager
fervour and a cruel anticipation of more one-sided fun. Erin had no choice but
to stretch her aching limbs and stagger to her feet, once again taking the
defensive stance.

“Is this really
necessary?” she asked the arrogant, fifth year Gryffindor who was smirking and
joking with her posse. “I bumped into you by accident, and you’ve already taken
it out on me. Why can’t you let it go?” She hoped that the soothing tone that
she’d learned to use with rifled animals would work to put some sense into the
older girl.

It was a cold morning,
and Erin was late for class. Who could blame her, with the beds being so warm
and enticingly comfortable? As she ran through the corridors, taking a detour
in order to slip through a shortcut, she brushed against Beatrice, a fifth year
Gryffindor. Beatrice, being the proud, snotty, popular “queen bee” as she
called herself, challenged Erin to a duel, while the rest of the lingering students
watched from the sides, all of them hesitant to come to Erin’s aid for fear of
getting on Beatrice’s bad side.

Erin took her
defensive stance once again, with her wand tightly gripped in her outstretched
hand. She tried not to wince as her muscles protested against the movement as
she straightened her back and put on a brave face. She was anything but
confident though, as Beatrice’s eyes narrowed to slits and her lips pursed
together tightly, in clear denial of Erin’s request to “let it go.” It was
quite clear what was going to happen next. Like earlier, Beatrice would count
to three, but she would fire off a jinx on the second count, leaving little
time for Erin to cast the only spell she knew.

Everything seemed to
happen in slow motion, as Beatrice mouthed the number one. The adrenaline
pounding in the first year’s veins blocked out every sound and sight apart from
the stunning bolt of red that was starting to sizzle out from the snotty girl’s
wand. It scorched Erin’s long hair as she jumped aside to try and avoid it,
desperately brandishing her wand in Beatrice’s direction and shouting “Expelliarmus”
as she did so.

A yelp sounded from
the bully’s direction, as the blue ball of light that erupted from Erin’s wand
caused her to stagger back, the wand spinning out of her hand to land with a
clatter at the end of the corridor. Everyone stood in shock, unable to process
what had happened. Erin’s eyes met the deathly glare that Beatrice was giving
her as she shook uncontrollably with fury. It was only her frantic desire to
get away that saved her this time and Erin knew that she wouldn’t last any
longer without landing in the hospital wing if she lingered. She spun on her
tail, and without further ado, ran to her Transfiguration class, quite gladly
taking the longer route. 

***

Required for DADA week 3.