I run as fast as I can, which is to say, not very fast. I'm not exactly what you'd call an active teenager, so all my life I thought running was some kind of leg magic or something.

When I finally reach the Forbidden Forest, I slow down and (surprise surprise) everyone's staring at me. Well, excuse me for not being a punctual, rule-abiding goody two-shoes like you! *sassy Z-formation finger-snap*

Wait, what?

''So, is everyone, er, here already?'' Hagrid says (WHOA THAT BEARD IS SO ELEGANT AND WHOA HE'S TALLER THAN MY HOUSE!). As expected, he receives no reaction from the class. '' s'posse we can start the lesson now.''

Hagrid starts introducing us to yet another one of his dangerous pets, and when we line up to have a go at whatever it is we're supposed to have a go at, I realize that if I was Cameron, I would probably be on my way to school right now while munching on a piece of half-eaten toast, hoping against hope that somehow I'll get sucked into a fictional universe and meet my favorite characters, completely unaware what living in fanfiction is truly like. But then I go all whatever.

Honestly, thinking is hard. I get a headache every time.

''Um, Sam?''

I instantly return to earth and turn my head towards the source of the voice faster than is humanly possible.

''Hey, Harry!" I greet with a smile.

''Hullo.'' He smiles back, and I'm pretty sure you've already memorized my thought patterns when he smiles at me so you can probably imagine my mental reaction right now. ''Are you all right?''

''What? Yeah, what makes you think otherwise?''

''Just now, you looked like you were troubled...''

''Oh.'' I laugh a little. ''I-I'm fine, honest. Thinking is just a wee bit hard for me.''

''I see...''

And then a loooong and very awkward silence passes between us. You know, I'm starting to think awkwardness is the special talent I've been searching for so long. Because seriously, I really don't know if I have a talent at all.

I decide that I better say something to relieve the oh so sweet tension that is slowly starting to choke me, but hey, looks like we got a visitor. A most unwelcome one, at that.

''Well, well, what do we have—''

''Please leave,'' I cut him—no, it off.

It smirks. ''You know, donkey, I'm not very fond of being forced to leave against my will.''

''And I'm not very fond of getting allergies.''

"You little git.''

''I may be little and I may be a git but at least I don't dye my hair blond.''

It snickers, and not the delicious kind of snickers you get from convenience stores. ''You really don't know who you're talking to, don't you?''

I smile sarcastically. ''And you really don't know that I'm capable of murdering someone in their sleep and make it seem like an accident, don't you?''

''S'cuse me?''

Holy freaking horses. Both ferret and I jump in surprise. It was Professor Hagrid.

Whoa, calling him that is like calling your best friend's mother Mrs. -insertlastnamehere- instead of mom.

''What am I hearin' here, Mr. Malfoy? Ms. Whitfield?'' Oh right, Hagrid's here.

The ferret smirks. ''Whinefield was giving me death threats, sir.''

I slightly roll my eyes and whisper, ''It's Whitfield.''

I look at Hagrid and I think he was a bit startled, but I can't really tell that much considering 80% of his face is covered by hair.

''Did ye jus' call me sir?''

Ferret rolls his eyes. ''Yes, sir.''

''Er...all right, then. Now if yer not gonna pay attention to the lesson, it'd do me a fat load o' good if ye just turn round an' leave. I don't need no more stinkin' layabouts like you in me class.''

Then he walks off, just like that. Talk about sass.

I glance at the ferret and see him fake vomiting.

'' 'Sir'...ugh. I never thought I would actually address that old brute as sir.''

''You just did, so shut up,'' I say.

Oh no, the ferret is giving me a death glare. Wow, I'm so scared. Someone save me, I might get attacked by his terrifying sugar-coated snakes!

''You'd do well if you close that awfully smelly mouth of yours, Whinefield.''

''And maybe you'd do well if you stopped pretending to be a mighty blonde leader.''

Before it can say anything else, I turn my back on him and move toward Harry. But instead of actually standing next to my darling, I pick up Malfoy's bag which he left on the ground and pour ink all over it. I don't usually do this kind of stuff, but hey, I'm in fanfiction, I can do whatever the heck I want!

When Care of Magical Creatures is over (I happily leave with a scorch mark on my hand and several cuts on my legs), I hurry to my next class but linger a little to see the ferret's horror-filled eyes as he picks up his now ink-covered bag from the ground.

Ah, another day of living in fanfiction. It's actually more tiring than you think. Whenever I walk into a room, I know exactly what's gonna happen. It's really hard to act natural when you know Pansy Parkinson's about to fart or something like that.

After a forced conversation with Harry after dinner, I head back to the common room and do just a little bit of homework. And by ''just a little bit'' I mean pull off a Hermione Granger because damn, none of my homework has been this interesting! Seriously, this is the first time I was actually hooked to doing my homework! I never thought I would actually enjoy staying up late, writing 7-inch long essays and stuff. I don't even know why Harry ever hated doing magical homework!

Is something wrong with me.

When I finally finish all my slightly overdone homework, I pick up my bag from a nearby table and is it just my imagination or is there something wet on my palm?

I look at my once perfectly clean bag that is now full of black ink.

''What the—MALFOY!''

That ferret is so dead.

By the way, I'm gonna change my pen name soon. Just saying. C: