author's notes:
Hi everybody… well finally I have arrived in my long term stay back in the fan fiction realm… once again. So Hope you enjoy this brand new story that got me thinking over the *cough in shame* years (yes it has been that long believe it or not…)
For clarification, I do not own any recognisable Harry Potter characters or setting.
Let me know about this brand new story every body… And one way to do that is REVIEW!
RIVAL ME OUT AND GET BACK TOGETHER AGAIN
CHAPTER 1
The Careful Art of Cynicism
CHAPTER 2
What Makes You Say That?
CHAPTER 3
Hello Mr. Sluggy
CHAPTER 4
Middle Names and Whatnot
CHAPTER 5
One Terrible, Unimaginable Gossip
CHAPTER 6
Whatever You Say Honey
CHAPTER 7
Always the Second, Will be the Second
CHAPTER 8
One… Two… Three.. Four? Confusion…
CHAPTER 9
Welcome Back Mr. Potter
CHAPTER 10
A Whole New Perspective
CHAPTER 11
Mistakes, and Regrettable Decisions
CHAPTER 12
Dancing with the Pain
CHAPTER 13
Apalagastus… And Amortentia
CHAPTER 14
Don't Talk Just Listen
CHAPTER 15
Fin.
CHAPTER 1
THE CAREFUL ART OF CYNICISM
"The shrew is on the broom…" I heard someone whisper as I found my regular spot at the very far end of the long table situated at left of the Great Hall, abandoned of those students whom I managed to fear me. The moment the word was out of the little punk whom I cannot describe for I did not even show the courtesy to look at his face, I heard every head in the grand room take a sharp little gasp and straightened themselves.
That was the power I upheld in the Hogwarts and in all honesty I liked it. It was nice for once to have a dominant persona in the house of Hufflepuff to show those other houses that we also can be as tough as nails. And as we are going through with various confessions in this chapter, I might as well say it was not an easy job to ruin that "oh I am a Hufflepuff so I might as well be as sweet and fluffy as a bunny"exterior. At the end of my fifth year however, people learned to keep their distance and "not tickle the sleeping dragon".
After my fifth year, which ended tremendously swell from my end of the story, things became much easier for me to cope with around the school. The bitter persona of mine that I forced Hogwarts to accept, got me to rule the school in whichever way I pleased. Excluding some famous names (as known as the war heroes), even some of the professors feared me much to my delight. Hogwarts became my realm, and I loved every bit of it, since it was the only thing I seemed to control in my life. Now, like I said, this chapter is going to be full of confessions and honest declarations. So I would be lying if I was to exclude one major, and aggravating I might add, factor of my realm that I could not work my bitter magic around; Albus Potter.
Albus Potter, often introduced as the second offspring of the wizard saviour Harry Potter, Chosen One's look-alike, who I often like to call Slytherin hyaena, was the only persona in the school that I got into my blood. Oh, and it is certainly not because of his fame or his rumoured good looks. No, the reason why I despise that horrendous treachery to human kind is reasoned behind his favourite act of hobby that I often outline as "destroy Helena's life and kingdom in the most humiliating way possible and rub it against her face". Yes, folks, the often kind and shy demeanour Albus Potter seem to hide behind is often an act to get his way around the trouble he causes, which often finalises with me having to serve some detention with the wretched Filch, who surprisingly taken some form of fondness in my bitter attributes over the years.
It only fuels my dislike on Potter that the overall table structure of the Great Hall forces me to be closest to the Slytherin table. And there is nothing I could do to change that, believe me I tried. All in all, due to me being in Hufflepuff and Potter being the proud Slytherin Prince, we often encounter during the meals that often do not end pleasantly. Such history and experience I share with the guy finally resulted me to reserve a spot at the very end of the table away from the rest of the Hufflepuff crowd and from Potter and his inseparable clan formed by the infamous lady men Scorpius Malfoy and Blake Zabini.
Scorpius Malfoy and Blake Zabini are the second most famous Slytherin students who were announced as Potter's favourite companions. Just like Potter himself, they shared the same wretchedness and evil within their rather handsome and smart getaway. Much like his father, Scorpius inherited the overall Malfoy look with sharp chin, pale blonde hair and natural scowl. The only thing that differed Scorpius from his father was the inherited light green eyes of the Greengrass family Scorpius proudly wore. Scorpius, as I would describe him excluding his obvious physical attributes, is a type of guy who is siphoned under his testosterone hormones and manipulate them rather cleverly with his unusual way of thinking that often got the teachers to admire him. Some people rumoured that he carried traces of a Veela blood, which of course is untrue for those who studied bloodline of the war heroes (such as I) to gain extra marks in History of Magic. He was a proud man all in all, and carried his family name proudly and fought fearlessly to those who reminded him of the unfortunate past his family endured during and after the war times. And in all honestly, if I look past his taunting, I would agree that his proud in his name and history is an admirable characteristic.
Blake Zabini is a simpler man when it comes to personality. Yet he is a different taste in the platter of hot man attending Hogwarts, some say more exotic than what Malfoy offers - please do insert a gag in my account after this sentence. As I said, Blake Zabini is the exotic model that many girls drawn over for. He is caramel in skin, an dark in hair. He is lean and well built, he has softer features to Malfoy yet he is more out there in the lady field, following his grandmother's example. And through this description you may take in notice that this man literally is attending the best wizarding school out there to leer at girls and cause mayhem right along side of Potter. Yet I would not be fair if I said that he was the worst of the three to taunt me, no. Quite opposite actually, he is the leash to the group that stops the others when he sees that I am in no mood to deal with the rest of them. He is the one that shows the sensibility of being friendly to me when he is stalling the corridors on his own. He is the one occasionally throwing in that apologetic smile in my direction when Potter and Malfoy cross the line. All in all, I believe that Zabini would have been a great friend if he was not mixed in with the Malfoy and Potter duo.
"Well well well… who do we have hear?" he mocked me, his stupidly vibrant green eyes sparkling in the sly way that made me gag.
"What do you want devil?"
"Devil? Oh how you wound me love…" He spoke in his deep taunting voice with an exaggerated and mocking hurt tone. Then he sighed and continued. "So I was wondering…"
"Can you leave me alone and sit at your own table?" I hissed at him. Then turned back to my incredible platter of bacon rashers and took a bite of one of the super crispy pieces.
"No can do, love."
"Don't call me love."
"Sorry love…" I rolled my eyes without looking at his direction. " Okay, so I was wondering, how can you live whilst the rest of the school hates you ever so much? I mean it must be lonely. And then I thought, well maybe I should keep her company so she wouldn't be so bitter anymore."
"Potter, I appreciate the thought, but as kind as it is, I really am not interested. I am happy the way I am." I said through my gritted teeth. He was planning something, and he was trying to distract me. Shortly after my thought, I heard a small footstep behind me, quickly whipped my wand out and with the blink of an eye, levitated Scorpius Malfoy off the ground. "Nice try, guys. Better luck next time." I smiled smugly, then turned to Potter and waved my wand at him, "Purple suits you Potter." I grinned and took my exit.
"Hey Helena, wait up!" a voice came behind me as I walked my way down to the Transfiguration class, which I despised. I walked on of course, ignoring the voice still yelling after my distancing figure. I heard the footsteps get closer and inwardly groan, knowing that whoever was the person calling after me finally caught up. I rolled my eyes as I turned around to face the intruder of my limitless yet all too important train of thought. When I saw Alice Longbottom's never frowning face illuminating my ray of pessimism, I did not feel surprised. She was my fellow house mate after all. Alice inherited the sweet round face of her father's mixed with the beautiful smile of her mothers. She had large round eyes that carried the beautiful hazel tint that secretly admired. She had lovely honey tinted hair that dropped to her shoulders in slight curls, and she often accessorised it with an immature hair clip that often carried a bow or a cute animal with a small smile.
"I can't believe Albus did that to you, the nerve of him." She said, trying to look angry but only managing to pull a face, which, much to my amusement resembled a kitten trying to get rid of a fur ball stuck in its oesophagus.
"Yeah, the nerve of him…" I agreed, trying to smile at her. Really I could not be mean at her, for two reasons; she is the eldest daughter of the war hero Neville Longbottom, who happens to be also my favourite teacher in this school, and two, she is far too sweet, and I would not like to be the first person to put a frown on that constantly smiling face.
"It is good what you did to him though, funnily enough, purple does suit him." she smiled brightly once again, making me smile all at the same time. "Hey, I don't think I ever saw you smile!" she squeaked. "It suits you… it brings out the sparkle in your brown eyes." She smiled even wider, if that is possible. "Anyways, like I was saying, I can't believe Albus… Seriously, he is not a bad person. I mean I knew the guy since birth, and he is usually sweet and a little shy if you ask me. For some reason every time you are around, he turns into this bullying monster. It doesn't help that you guys are always neck to neck when it comes to classes, and he is really competitive. More so than Rose, if you ask me, which is really hard to believe." Okay, one thing to know about Alice Longbottom is that she likes to blabber, a lot! And once she begins, you cannot stop her. So you might as well switch off and pretend to listen to her, with the occasional 'I understand.' and 'oh I see what you mean' thrown in her mid sentences, which doesn't often come.
"Alice, I really like to talk about how terrible Potter is, all day even, however we really need to get to Professor Weston's class."
Like I said previously, it is impossible to shut her up, but my statement was convincing, and true enough to get her to move towards my initial destination, as she talked on and on about how Rose Weasley was mistaken to be the most ambitious one among her family, however Albus' determination when it came to his class performance had surpassed Rose's long ago. She was right of course. In fact, I would identify Rose as a girl with her mother's intelligence and father's lack of motivation.
Now, I know I had said that I really do not like the Transfiguration class, and I meant it. I am not bad at it, honestly. There is only one class that I perform terribly at, and that is unfortunately Herbology, which happens to be my favourite class as well. I really do try hard for the class, and I like that fact that I have to work for it to earn what I get, where as the rest of the classes that I am at, the good work just comes to me naturally and I ace through them all effortlessly.
It also does not help that Transfiguration is one of the few unfortunate classes that I have to share with Slytherin, ultimately meaning that Potter is somewhere in the class plotting my impending mortification. Now that I have mentioned that I also have to point out the fact that Potter is the strongest rival I have in Hogwarts when it comes to class performance. Once again, dismissively, Potter has a natural talent in Transfiguration as much as I, thus he has all the spare time in the world, during the class to taunt me to no end. That faithful day, I was holding onto that mild thought of fear that I wished Potter would have, for the happenings in the Great Hall to leave me alone for once. Yet I never really trusted the man so I took the regular precautions I often do in Transfiguration; I took my place at the back corner of the class, put on several high level protective spells around my desk to stop any type of hexes and curses and drew a beautiful ancient rune of border around my seat to stop Potter or his followers to not to cross my way any nearer than two meters in radius.
Transfiguration, no matter what the Potter generation tells, has become a rather mainstream class lacking originality and interest over the years. Ever since the transfiguration master, Minerva McGonagall has retired from being the headmistress and Hogwarts' best Transfiguration teacher, I believe the course had begin to decline from popular demand and became a compulsory class to those who wish to pursue a job somewhat related to the Ministry. I personally threw myself into this form of boredom to assure myself decent NEWTS and select my future occupation after my results. Yes, I know, it is a stupid thing to do, to wing it I mean, and many of my teachers do not agree with me either. But what can I say I just do not know what to do with my future at this stage.
The room consisted of two main features; on the wall adjacent to the entrance door was balanced six large blackboards, making their way all the way to the high ceiling, balanced on the set of rollers to switch the order of the boards if necessary - via magic of course. On the opposing end of the room furnished five rows and thirteen lines of double desks worn in time, and still carried the irreplaceable traces of past students dating back to Minerva McGonagall's student years. This of course added the musky old wood scent into the room which I found rather endearing if you ask, being the only loveable factor about this overall bare classroom. Every now and then, Professor would bring several animals in cages, and place them around his desk (which stood by the left of the set of blackboards) to add colour and excitement into the room created by the various chirps, squeaks and roars created by the animals themselves as a protest to the pain they had to endure due to the not so clever students' unsuccessful attempts of transfiguration.
Professor Weston was a simple man quite like his room, with neatly combed greying sandy brown hair matching the dull tone of his blue eyes sunken with age, carrying bored expression all the time, excluding the glint they would get every now and then when he finds something exciting to do in his overall boring life. His slightly large forehead carried several creases that he presumably got from his signature mimic of raising his thick eyebrows often as he speaks. His cracked thin lips stood unrelaxed on his face, carrying a forced smile that brought out the lines of dimples which outlined the triangle starting from the side of his nose down to his chin doubled with age and sunken skin. He wore simple robes to his classes, that did not attract much attention with their earthy tones. His voice was bored yet strong with the deep tone he used during classes. Outside the class time, Professor did not often prefer to speak, thus spend most of his lovely afternoons in his room, reading a new edition of a transfiguration book, yet did not reject those students who sought his help either. He was not often named as the teacher of authority, unlike the previous master of Transfiguration, yet he did share the similar obsessive interest to Quidditch as McGonagall.
"Alright class, before we begin today, I am going to handle things a bit different." spoke the usual boring voice as the class filled with students. It was funny to see how students did not even bother rushing to their seats, but took their time. "Class, hurry, we will have a new arrangement so don't settle down just yet." Wait, what new arrangement? Professor Weston often did not seek change… He did not like change, he was boring. Why the new arrangement of seats all of a sudden? "It came to my notice that some of the brighter students who outshone themselves in the OWLS results often seek consolation in the back of the room, or don't contribute and I ought to change that." Is he talking about me? I thought to myself as I warily watched the teacher clap his hands in excitement, his eyes carrying the rare glint of mischief and face resembling somewhat of an overgrown elf with the dominantly arched eyebrows. Then something else caught my attention near me. Potter was snickering without hiding his irritating laughter much so, as his green revolting eyes watched me. "Is there something amusing Mr. Potter?" Weston arched his eyebrow as he asked. Causing me to smile in victory. "Mr. Potter and Miss Heston, I'd like you to move to the front of the desk. From now on you will be the Transfiguration partners."