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“There are several types of people in the world. In order to decipher the difference, you must apply a scenario. Say they come to a clearing in the woods, and there are three pathways that lead somewhere else. The first pathway seems to be a long, dark, winding road with no end. The person who chooses this pathway, is to be the most curious, maybe the bravest of the bunch. The second pathway clearly has a well-populated city at the end of it, and the person who chooses this is simply the most afraid of most everything. The last pathway shows an empty field, with only a tree in the far distance. The person who chooses this, is most comfortable with themselves, maybe the wisest of all.

“But dad?” I tugged on my father’s white polo shirt. My father looked down upon me.

“Yes dear?”

“What about the fourth pathway?” My father tilted his head and furrowed his brow. “What about the other one? What if you choose to stay exactly where you are?”

He smiled serenely, and laid a hand on my back gently.

“That is the question that you must keep on asking, my dearest. What about the other one?"

 

“Charlotte! Charlotte!” Mary McDonald nagged impatiently as I sat in the Charms classroom staring blankly into space. I turned to Mary inquisitively, wondering why she needed to get to lunch so badly.  

“We don’t need to rush for lunch, do we?” I asked scathingly, packing up my books at a relatively slow pace. Mary was bouncing.

“Come on, let’s go,” she urged again tugging at my sleeve. I looked down at my white polo shirt, and dragged my arm out of Mary’s hand.

“So what is this mad rush for lunch? House Elf strike?” I asked, snapping my satchel closed and swinging it over my shoulder. Mary gave me a scathing look that almost matched my apathy. Mary knew just how much I didn’t care about whatever she was about to say.

“No,” she said, extending her vowel pointedly, “…it’s Quidditch tryouts! Gryffindor has just lost three of their best players! This is my last and probably best chance to get on the team! Be a part of something!” I rolled my eyes at Mary’s enthusiasm.

“Mary I have never even seen you pick up a broom, never mind actually play Quidditch. They didn’t exactly supply us with brooms back home,” I said skeptically. Mary slapped her arm gently, and I understood

You made the team, and you never had a broom either, missy,” Mary rebuked, insulted by my insinuation. 

“I made the Ravenclaw team. The Gryffindor team is a whole different story, Mary, and you know it.”

Mary pushed open the doors to the Great Hall, only to prove my point. There was a massive crowd hovering around the end of the Gryffindor table, where students were scrambling to write their names down, while the Ravenclaw table boasted a massive ten students, all standing in a single-file line, waiting to write their names in.

Mary waved goodbye to me without another word, heading towards the intimidating crowd to join the wave of people vying for a spot on the team. I made my way to the sparse Ravenclaw table, and sat down alone. Even just twenty more feet away from the Gryffindor table, it was quieter, and I appreciated that.

A lot of people thought it was strange that Mary and I were friends. I mean, maybe a lot of people thought that; Mary McDonald and I were not the most popular people in Hogwarts. Mary was insanely happy and optimistic. Her positivity rivaled just about everyone, and so did her naivety. Opposite to Mary, I was mostly content with just about everything that happened.

“Oi, Charlotte!” I did not make a move, knowing that the fellow seventh year that was walking towards me would sit down whether welcomed or not. “How are you, Malkin?”

James Potter’s voice was incredibly alarming. If one wasn’t expecting it (and I rarely was) he could really startle you. Some found it charming, a booming, cheery, deep voice they (Mary) said. His voice made the hair on my arms stand on end.

“I am doing well, James. And yourself?”

“Dandy. Listen, are you going to need all day to hold tryouts on the coming Sunday?” I looked away from my plate of string beans and mashed potatoes to find James Potter tossing his hair back with his hand and bouncing his knee.

“No I will not. You can have the pitch until 11:00.” I went back to eating my lunch.

“Deal,” James said jovially, holding out a hand for me to take. I pursed my lips, put down my fork, and shook James’ hand quickly. “Thanks, Charlotte.”

I waved my hand at James’ retreating figure, and went back to my food.

I had forgotten about Quidditch tryouts. I couldn’t believe I forgot! After last year, I was promoted to Captain. And while it was quite an honor, I had a hard time wanting to spend that much time on the sport. Unfortunately, I knew I should dedicate that much time to the sport that looked so amazing on a Hogwarts transcript.

So I accepted the job, and did nothing more than that. So now tryouts snuck up on me, and I had no idea how a tryout would be run. Truthfully, I had not been to a tryout since fourth year, and did not recall the proceedings.

I poked at my food again, putting a couple of string beans in my mouth. The food tasted very bland, and was very unnecessary, but it did well to keep up appearances.

“Why was James Potter over here talking to you?” Mary asked, slightly out of breath after fighting her way through the sea of lions.

Mary frequently gushed over James Potter, and was not exactly silent in doing so. Mary and I had been caught several times in the Gryffindor common room talking about James’ beautiful eyes and the way his hair fell just the right way by the Marauders. Mary’s words. Not mine.

“He needed some extra time for tryouts on Sunday, so I gave him some of my time,” I said simply, taking a sip of my water.

“Did you mention me?” Mary asked, digging into the piece of bread the picked up from the large pile in the center of the table. I frowned.  

“No I didn’t. What would I have said about you, Mary?” Mary rolled her eyes dramatically, and let out a great sigh.

“I don’t know, that’s your job Charlotte. You’re the one who knows everything.”

“Mary, it is not possible to know everything. If one knew everything…that would be a dangerous world to live in.” Mary looked at me with disdain, and rolled her eyes once more before standing up.

“You know, Charlotte, it’s things like that that make me want to get new friends. See you in Potions,” Mary added, slapping her palm on the table sharply, making me smile and shake my head once again.

“Good luck with that, Mary!” I called across the Great Hall as Mary exited on her way to Muggle Studies.

I would never be able to understand them, these people that acted in these ways. Even Mary McDonald, my friend of ten years, I would never understand. James Potter, an acquaintance of six years, I would never understand. It wasn’t just teenage wizards that struck me as strange. It was more than them. It was more humans in general.

I stood up, leaving my half-emptied plate on the table and heading towards the library to study for Defense Against the Dark Arts.



Because no matter how hard I had tried, and no matter how many different paths I took, I always ended up stuck in the way I was: half inferius, half human.“There are several types of people in the world. In order to decipher the difference, you must apply a scenario. Say they come to a clearing in the woods, and there are three pathways that lead somewhere else. The first pathway seems to be a long, dark, winding road with no end. The person who chooses this pathway, is to be the most curious, maybe the bravest of the bunch. The second pathway clearly has a well-populated city at the end of it, and the person who chooses this is simply the most afraid of most everything. The last pathway shows an empty field, with only a tree in the far distance. The person who chooses this, is most comfortable with themselves, maybe the wisest of all.

“But dad?” I tugged on my father’s white polo shirt. My father looked down upon me.

“Yes dear?”

“What about the fourth pathway?” My father tilted his head and furrowed his brow. “What about the other one? What if you choose to stay exactly where you are?”

He smiled serenely, and laid a hand on my back gently.

“That is the question that you must keep on asking, my dearest. What about the other one?"

 

“Charlotte! Charlotte!” Mary McDonald nagged impatiently as I sat in the Charms classroom staring blankly into space. I turned to Mary inquisitively, wondering why she needed to get to lunch so badly.  

“We don’t need to rush for lunch, do we?” I asked scathingly, packing up my books at a relatively slow pace. Mary was bouncing.

“Come on, let’s go,” she urged again tugging at my sleeve. I looked down at my white polo shirt, and dragged my arm out of Mary’s hand.

“So what is this mad rush for lunch? House Elf strike?” I asked, snapping my satchel closed and swinging it over my shoulder. Mary gave me a scathing look that almost matched my apathy. Mary knew just how much I didn’t care about whatever she was about to say.

“No,” she said, extending her vowel pointedly, “…it’s Quidditch tryouts! Gryffindor has just lost three of their best players! This is my last and probably best chance to get on the team! Be a part of something!” I rolled my eyes at Mary’s enthusiasm.

“Mary I have never even seen you pick up a broom, never mind actually play Quidditch. They didn’t exactly supply us with brooms back home,” I said skeptically. Mary slapped her arm gently, and I understood

You made the team, and you never had a broom either, missy,” Mary rebuked, insulted by my insinuation.  

“I made the Ravenclaw team. The Gryffindor team is a whole different story, Mary, and you know it.”

Mary pushed open the doors to the Great Hall, only to prove my point. There was a massive crowd hovering around the end of the Gryffindor table, where students were scrambling to write their names down, while the Ravenclaw table boasted a massive ten students, all standing in a single-file line, waiting to write their names in.

Mary waved goodbye to me without another word, heading towards the intimidating crowd to join the wave of people vying for a spot on the team. I made my way to the sparse Ravenclaw table, and sat down alone. Even just twenty more feet away from the Gryffindor table, it was quieter, and I appreciated that.

A lot of people thought it was strange that Mary and I were friends. I mean, maybe a lot of people thought that; Mary McDonald and I were not the most popular people in Hogwarts. Mary was insanely happy and optimistic. Her positivity rivaled just about everyone, and so did her naivety. Opposite to Mary, I was mostly content with just about everything that happened.

“Oi, Charlotte!” I did not make a move, knowing that the fellow seventh year that was walking towards me would sit down whether welcomed or not. “How are you, Malkin?”

James Potter’s voice was incredibly alarming. If one wasn’t expecting it (and I rarely was) he could really startle you. Some found it charming, a booming, cheery, deep voice they (Mary) said. His voice made the hair on my arms stand on end.

“I am doing well, James. And yourself?”

“Dandy. Listen, are you going to need all day to hold tryouts on the coming Sunday?” I looked away from my plate of string beans and mashed potatoes to find James Potter tossing his hair back with his hand and bouncing his knee.

“No I will not. You can have the pitch until 11:00.” I went back to eating my lunch.

“Deal,” James said jovially, holding out a hand for me to take. I pursed my lips, put down my fork, and shook James’ hand quickly. “Thanks, Charlotte.”

I waved my hand at James’ retreating figure, and went back to her food.

I had forgotten about Quidditch tryouts. I couldn’t believe I forgot! After last year, O was promoted to Captain. And while it was quite an honor, I had a hard time wanting to spend that much time on the sport. Unfortunately, I knew I should dedicate that much time to the sport that looked so amazing on a Hogwarts transcript.

So I accepted the job, and did nothing more than that. So now tryouts snuck up on me, and O had no idea how a tryout would be run. Truthfully, I had not been to a tryout since fourth year, and did not recall the proceedings.

I poked at my food again, putting a couple of string beans in my mouth. The food tasted very bland, and was very unnecessary, but it did well to keep up appearances.

“Why was James Potter over here talking to you?” Mary asked, slightly out of breath after fighting her way through the sea of lions.

Mary frequently gushed over James Potter, and was not exactly silent in doing so. Mary and I had been caught several times in the Gryffindor common room talking about James’ beautiful eyes and the way his hair fell just the right way by the Marauders. Mary’s words. Not mine.

“He needed some extra time for tryouts on Sunday, so I gave him some of my time,” I said simply, taking a sip of my water.

“Did you mention me?” Mary asked, digging into the piece of bread the picked up from the large pile in the center of the table. I frowned.  

“No I didn’t. What would I have said about you, Mary?” Mary rolled her eyes dramatically, and let out a great sigh.

“I don’t know, that’s your job Charlotte. You’re the one who knows everything.”

“Mary, it is not possible to know everything. If one knew everything…that would be a dangerous world to live in.” Mary looked at me with disdain, and rolled her eyes once more before standing up.

“You know, Charlotte, it’s things like that that make me want to get new friends. See you in Potions,” Mary added, slapping her palm on the table sharply, making me smile and shake my head once again.

“Good luck with that, Mary!” I called across the Great Hall as Mary exited on her way to Muggle Studies.

I would never be able to understand them, these people that acted in these ways. Even Mary McDonald, my friend of ten years, I would never understand. James Potter, an acquaintance of six years, I would never understand. It wasn’t just teenage wizards that struck me as strange. It was more than them. It was more humans in general.

I stood up, leaving my half-emptied plate on the table and heading towards the library to study for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Because no matter how hard I had tried, and no matter how many different paths I took, I always ended up stuck in the way I was: half inferius, half human.








 

A/N: Hello readers! I thought I would try and revamp this story, as its premise intrigued me, but my writing needed updating. I hope you enjoy this neew version, and if you're new to it, please let me know what you think in the review box below!

 

Thank you,

blackballet

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