Year Three, Chapter Sixteen: Temper

The common room fire crackled warmly. Music drifted from the wireless in the corner. Jake sat across from me, concern written on his face.

"You're moping," Jake said.

A week had passed since my journey into the Chamber of Wisdom, and in that time, I had smiled only twice. The idea that I was being possessed by some mysterious Dark Lord - possibly even Voldemort himself - was just so horrible that I could barely think about anything else. I'd avoided conversation: focusing purely on my work in lessons; spending my lunchtimes alone; getting out of bed late and turning in early.

I shrugged. "So what?"

"You've been moping for days now, and you still won't say what's wrong!" Jake said, gesturing wildly with his hands. "We're friends, you're meant to trust me with your problems so I can help you."

"Nothing's wrong," I said.

"Then why are you moping?" Jake asked.

I shrugged again. "No reason."

Jake sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Matt, I want to help you."

"You can help me by shoving off."

Jake's eyes narrowed, but before he could say anything, Toby popped up behind him.

"Just leave him, mate," Toby said. "He'll get over it. Whatever ‘it' is."

Jake nodded. "When you're ready to talk, Matt…" Toby dragged him off to a nearby table.

I turned back to my herbology book, but before I could finish the page I was reading, Colin hopped over the back of the sofa and sat next to me.

Why won't everyone just leave me alone?

"What do you want?" I asked, not looking up from the book.

"I want cheerful Matt back," Colin said. "I don't like this grumpy guy."

I tightened my grip on the book, digging my fingernails into the paper. "Then don't talk to this grumpy guy."

"Well he's kidnapped my friend," Colin said, not backing down, "and I want my friend back."

"Just piss off, Creevey," I snarled, my head snapping up to fix Colin with a glare. "I don't even like you, you're just an annoying little tagalong. Go play with your camera."

A wave of silence rippled across the room, starting from Colin and making its way outwards. Heads turned to face the brewing argument.

Colin's face fell. "Oh."

If anything, the room grew more silent. I could feel every pair of eyes in the room fixed on me. Judging me. Glaring at me.

Seamus Finnegan, a boy from the year above, was the first to talk - well, shout. "You're a twat, Matt!"

And then the floodgates opened, and it seemed as though everyone in the room was berating me. White-hot fury pumped through my veins. A red haze fell across my vision. I was *angry. *So very angry...

*Silence them, *a voice in my head whispered.

The table in front of me shook, its legs rattling against the floor. The glass of water on it shattered, spraying glass and water across the table. A crack filled the air as the table's legs snapped, and it toppled over.

SILENCE THEM!

No, *I told myself. *I need to get out of here before I do something stupid.

I grabbed my bag and ran out of the room, leaving the swarm of angry classmates behind. Once I was through the portrait hole, I didn't stop running. Twisting corridors and shifting stairs passed by in a blur as I ran, taking random corners. I didn't have the slightest clue where I was going, but I didn't care. Away from the common room. That was all that mattered.

Eventually, I stopped running and ducked into a random empty classroom. I slumped to the ground in the corner and buried my head in my hands. Breathe in. Breathe out. Shaky breaths, at first. I lean back into the flagstones, my anger slowly but surely fading away. The anger that had come from nowhere, that had almost taken control of me.

"I'm an idiot," I said.

The walls didn't respond. I sighed, running a hand through my hair. What had I been thinking, saying that to Colin? He was a great friend, talkative and cheerful and loyal, and I'd treated him like dirt.

*He deserved it. *

I tried to ignore the voice in my head, but I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, it was right. I'd made it clear that I didn't want to talk, and Colin had kept on yapping away. He should've shut up when I told him to. What did he know? He had no clue of my struggle, no clue of what I was going through. If he was in my boots, he wouldn't exactly be a ray of sunshine either.

I got to my feet and left the room, thinking as I walked. Whether or not I'd been justified in what I said, half of Gryffindor was now pissed off at me. All of my friends certainly were; everyone liked cheerful Colin and his camera. I caught a sneer creeping onto my face at the thought. *No. *I forced my face into neutrality. I didn't want to be one of those people who walked around, sneering at the world and all that's in it.

Before long, I found myself walking into the library. I weaved my way through the shelves to my usual table, tucked away in the corner. Olivia was sitting there, scribbling away at a piece of parchment. I considered turning and walking away - I wasn't really in the mood for conversation - but decided against it and sat down opposite the Slytherin girl.

Olivia looked up in surprise. "Oh! Matt! I wasn't expecting to see you here today."

She rolled up the parchment in front of her and hastily stuffed it into her bag. A wave of curiosity washed over me - was she hiding something? - but quickly passed. To put it simply, I was too moody to care.

"Hi," I mumbled.

Olivia frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"Not really, no."

Olivia arched an eyebrow at me.

"I had an argument with Colin and called him an annoying tag-along that no one likes and now everyone in my house hates me," I said, all in one breath.

"Creevey?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"You were just being truthful, then," Olivia said.

I frowned. Sure, I was angry at Colin, but I hadn't really meant what I said. But then there was that voice in my head again, telling me that Olivia was right, that Colin deserved it, and I was smiling and nodding.

"Yeah, I was."

Why did I say that?

"I'm glad you've finally come to realise that," Olivia said, smiling right back at me.

Her smile set loose a kaleidoscope of butterflies in my stomach, and any doubts over whether I was in the right vanished.

"Doesn't change the fact that half my house now hates me," I said.

"Oh, they'll get over it in time," Olivia said. "Nothing to worry about."

"I hope so," I said. "But I'd rather not talk about it right now."

"That's okay," Olivia said. She paused for a moment, thinking, and then spoke again. "How was your holiday?"

We settled into comfortable, casual conversation. The dark cloud that had hung over my mind for the last week started to fade. I told Olivia about my admittedly somewhat dull holiday. She told me about her holiday, which had been a whirlwind of gatherings and parties and such. At one dinner, Draco Malfoy - her cousin - had knocked over his glass and gotten soaked in butterbeer. I had a good laugh over that, setting Olivia off into a giggling fit of her own before Madam Pince shushed us with a piercing glare.

"Huh," I mumbled as Madam Pince disappeared behind a bookshelf. "No fun allowed."

"Well, it is a library," Olivia said. "It's meant to be free from distractions, so people can work. And speaking of, you're a giant distraction."

I smirked. "Are you calling me fat?"

Olivia pressed her fingers to her lips, trying to stifle her laughter. She took a moment to compose herself, and then lowered her hand. "No, I was only saying that I need to focus on Professor Moody's homework."

"The essay on vampires?"

"No, we did that last week. Eight inches of parchment on vampires."

"We haven't got to that yet."

A smile danced across Olivia's lips. "Yet more proof that Gryffindors are slower than Slytherins."

"Oi!"

"I was just being truthful," Olivia said, getting to her feet. "I need to get a book. Keep an eye on my bag, would you?"

"Aye, aye, captain," I said.

Olivia gave me a quizzical look and then vanished off into the maze of bookshelves. Once she was gone, my eyes were drawn to her bag - more specifically, to the parchment at the top of it. She had very quickly put it away when I arrived. For a moment, I was torn between curiosity and morals. Curiosity won, and I reached across the table for the parchment. I unrolled it and started to read.

It was a letter to her mum. The first two paragraphs weren't at all interesting, and my eyes quickly skipped over them. The third paragraph, however…

*As for my little subterfuge… *

That line grabbed my attention. Subterfuge? Who was she spying on?

*I haven't had a chance to talk to Mason this first fortnight, so I know nothing new. I have noticed that he seemed quite distracted and excitable the last week, but rather downcast this week. Whether this has anything to do with his condition, I don't yet know. As always, I'll keep you updated. *

Me. Olivia was spying on me. A chill ran down my spine, cold as arctic ice. Tears welled up at the corners of my eyes. I took a deep breath, and then the sadness was gone, replaced with fury. For the second time that day, a red haze tinted my vision. I scrunched the parchment into a ball and threw it onto the desk, then turned and stormed out of the library.

The next thing I knew, I was standing alone in the middle of an abandoned classroom. I was breathing heavily, and my robes were damp with sweat. My wand was in my hand, the spheres shimmering with light. Around me was debris - disfigured chairs, their wood twisted and warped; charred table legs, some of them still burning; and a sea of broken glass that had once been a row of chandeliers. Deep ugly gouges were carved into the walls and the floor. Professor Moody would've been proud of the display of arcane power.

I looked down at my wand.

"What a fucking shit day."

Author's Notes: Drama! Thanks for reading!