#gayhufflepuff

[huffle-inalonelyworld-blog]

xoxo

she smells good. really good. and she’s doing The Face. the one where she’s excited about something and she wants to share it but doesn’t want to seem like she’s too smart, even though I know she is, smarter than anyone i’ve ever met and we’re just 15. she tends to downplay her intelligence ever since she was once told that the Sorting Hat had made a mistake and that she should have been in Ravenclaw. she cried that night. i don’t think the Gryffindor boy meant it as a criticism but she that had been her Family’s house and there was so much pressure surrounding it and she didn’t get sorted into it. she dealt with her Family’s frustration and disappointment and made it into a badge of honor and prided herself on being different. but that deep rooted sense of inadequacy and need of approval was still there.

right now she’s telling me about how the Muggle medicinal practices are increasing and becoming so complex and so close to magic. she wants to be Healer like her mother. however she has a particular interest in Muggle studies and more than anything wants to assist and bring awareness of magical properties to Muggles. her brow wrinkles and she goes into yet another tangent of how unfair the separation of magical and non-magical persons is and how our peoples are both so advanced in different ways and we could seriously benefit each other if we just tried.

she pauses, scanning my face.

‘sorry,’ she says nervously scratching above her top lip ‘you probably don’t want to hear about this again’. she starts piling up her books and collecting her things.

‘what?’ after a brief pause in which my eyebrows pull together and i shake my head. “i-’ i start to say how i love to hear her talk about anything, especially those subjects that bring about such passion when she turns to look at me her eyes flickering between mine looking for something. I’m taken aback by her look and forget what to say momentarily. eventually i regain myself and finish.

she swallows and nods softly. She runs a hand over the top of her head that is cut short and emphasizes (with the exception of her ears) her resemblance to a pixie. her ears are large and stick out jauntily from the sides of her head. i think they give her a charming and endearing quality. she hates them. when i asked her why she cut her hair despite the fact she responded that it was to force herself to come to terms with herself, both in mind and body. both of which were lovely to me.

reluctantly she pushed back her chair stating that she needed to get to Herbology, in which she was already late. she bent wrapping her arms around me engulfing me in the smell of soft vanilla. she stood walking down the library aisle turning halfway down to smile at me over her should and wave goodbye. i stared at her long after she was gone and cursed myself for being so weak and obvious. i flipped my book open to the page we had left off on and inside was a piece of parchment with what was obviously a quick sketch of the two of us dancing. it was signed and had a ‘xoxo’ of which i taught her the meaning.

could this mean? no it couldn’t, could it? did she…did she like me back?

[huffle-girlinalonelyworld-blog]

xoxo

she smells good. really good. and she’s doing The Face. the one where she’s excited about something and she wants to share it but doesn’t want to seem like she’s too smart, even though I know she is, smarter than anyone i’ve ever met and we’re just 15. she tends to downplay her intelligence ever since she was once told that the Sorting Hat had made a mistake and that she should have been in Ravenclaw. she cried that night. i don’t think the Gryffindor boy meant it as a criticism but she that had been her Family’s house and there was so much pressure surrounding it and she didn’t get sorted into it. she dealt with her Family’s frustration and disappointment and made it into a badge of honor and prided herself on being different. but that deep rooted sense of inadequacy and need of approval was still there.

right now she’s telling me about how the Muggle medicinal practices are increasing and becoming so complex and so close to magic. she wants to be Healer like her mother. however she has a particular interest in Muggle studies and more than anything wants to assist and bring awareness of magical properties to Muggles. her brow wrinkles and she goes into yet another tangent of how unfair the separation of magical and non-magical persons is and how our peoples are both so advanced in different ways and we could seriously benefit each other if we just tried.

she pauses, scanning my face. 

‘sorry,’ she says nervously scratching above her top lip ‘you probably don’t want to hear about this again’. she starts piling up her books and collecting her things.

‘what?’ after a brief pause in which my eyebrows pull together and i shake my head. “i-’ i start to say how i love to hear her talk about anything, especially those subjects that bring about such passion when she turns to look at me her eyes flickering between mine looking for something. I’m taken aback by her look and forget what to say momentarily. eventually i regain myself and finish. 

she swallows and nods softly. She runs a hand over the top of her head that is cut short and emphasizes (with the exception of her ears) her resemblance to a pixie. her ears are large and stick out jauntily from the sides of her head. i think they give her a charming and endearing quality. she hates them. when i asked her why she cut her hair despite the fact she responded that it was to force herself to come to terms with herself, both in mind and body. both of which were lovely to me.

reluctantly she pushed back her chair stating that she needed to get to Herbology, in which she was already late. she bent wrapping her arms around me engulfing me in the smell of soft vanilla. she stood walking down the library aisle turning halfway down to smile at me over her should and wave goodbye. i stared at her long after she was gone and cursed myself for being so weak and obvious. i flipped my book open to the page we had left off on and inside was a piece of parchment with what was obviously a quick sketch of the two of us dancing. it was signed and had a ‘xoxo’ of which i taught her the meaning.

 could this mean? no it couldn’t, could it? did she...did she like me back?

[huffle-girlinalonelyworld-blog]

Year One, Part 1

She stepped off the train my pulse beating rapidly the air was filled with smoke and I coughed involuntarily. Her eyes welled up but she refused to wave a hand to dissipate the smoke reluctant to draw any more attention to myself than I already had. The small wire cage in her right hand shook as if the creature inside knew that she was thinking of it. 

Older students nearby who were chatting with their friends who they hadn’t seen since the year before shot her looks of curiosity and concern. She was rather a sight. Puberty, while not a very attractive time for anyone was especially hard on her. Her limbs were long, gangly. Hair, which could be considered a lovely shade was stringy and was roughly tucked behind both ears due to nervousness and impatience. The robe was clean, pristine and had been ironed by her mother to perfection.

 Her mother was a muggle and while having put two daughters through Wizarding school already it hadn’t been at Hogwarts. Since she was the last of the children her parents were able to afford the more expensive school. She could feel her sibling’s resentment towards her. They hid it most of the time but it still hurt. 

Someone bumped into her as they exited the train where she had stopped, overwhelmed. That brought her back and she walked into the crowd not really sure where she was going. She took a deep breath. 

‘I can do this’ she whispered to herself