Mirror Image
A/N: Well, this is my very first piece, and I hope to keep writing to the story. Please everyone review for this and give me any constructive advice because God only knows that I could do with a little advise…Thanx A TON to Tidmag, my very first review, and to Villain, whose anxious fingers have been dying to get to my Fic…
The Rubbing Glass
"Mr. Longbottom," the voice was more demanding the second time, "Mr. Longbottom, come down from there at once. I don't want a repeat of your first year." Mrs. Hooch's crisp voice intruded on Neville's worries for a second.
"I am trying Professor!" His voice was desperate as he hung with both sweaty hands onto the tree branch. Mrs. Hooch used her wand to call back Neville's broom, muttered a small incantation to it, and the broom went soaring up, placing itself perfectly between his kicking legs.
He let go of the tree branch, and the broom sunk under his weight for a second, after gaining control, they went soaring down from the tree. Neville white-faced and scared closed his eyes just as he fell backwards over the broom.
From the ground he looked up, red-faced, and through a bunch of dirt and grass, sheepishly muttered. "Sorry…"
* * *
Crete heard the whistle blow and stopped her jumping jacks. She went to the teacher and reported how many she had finished.
Fitness days were always like hell. She walked over to the water fountain for a quick break with her friend.
"So how much more do you have to do?"
"Well, I've already done the trampoline, the jumping jacks, the mile run, push-ups and crunches and now I have the rope."
"Good Luck." The whistle blew and the crowd around the fountains dispersed. Crete went to the ropes on the far side of the gym. Mr. Depraved, the old perverted teacher was waiting for her.
He smiled, "Okay, Crete, all you have to do is climb the rope to the top, touch the ceiling, and climb back down. Your time will determine your score." She smiled and began.
Everything was going fine until she got about three quarters of the way up. Her loose shoe fell off, and as she watched if fall down to the floor with her eyes she found Mr. Depraved eyes at a very odd place and she hoped that he wasn't looking up her baggy gym shorts. She continued climbing, touched the roof, and started down when her bracelet came undone. It slipped off and she made a grab for it; her sock slipped and she fell all the way down. Her left hand held onto the rope and a bad rug burn formed on her palm. She hit the floor with a dreadful "thud" and caught the attention of everyone.
From the floor she looked up, red faced, and through a bloody lip, sheepishly muttered, "Sorry…"
* * *
Neville fanned his arms around, blowing through his mouth. "Oh no, Oh no," he muttered, hoping no one would notice before he could fix it, but he knew he was too late. Snape stood up almost a sneer on his face, and walked slowly over to Neville.
"Well, well Mr. Longbottom. Just what have you done?"
His potion was on the verge of catching fire, but the Professor just stood there, mockingly. Hermione, on the other side of the room, saw what was happening, jumped up, and began to make her way over to help Neville.
Snape saw her out of the corner of his eye, "SIT down, Miss Granger. Mr. Longbottom has gotten himself into this, and we will just see if he can get out." He crossed his arms and stood back in a relaxed position.
Neville looked devastated. Hermione sat slowly down, flicking her eyes at items on his desk, and then opening them wide really fast. Neville grabbed what he thought she was looking at, and dumped the whole thing in. Hermione started to shake her head, but it was too late. She slammed her forehead into her palm in despair, and ducked behind her chair.
There was a huge explosion, which only she and Professor Snape could have seen coming, and Neville sat there, black faced, and wide-eyed. "Oops…"
* * *
Crete began to jump up and down, emitting panicked squeals from her mouth trying to turn down the Bunsen burner. Mr. Ovenman, the science teacher dropped his papers and ran over turning the valve the right way on Crete's burner.
"Crete weren't you listening when I gave instructions?" she nodded like a sad puppy dog. "Well obviously you need to listen better."
The whole class was silent in listening to him yelling at her. "Okay," she said, looking hurt. She turned to her beaker, and her once blue liquid had now turned orange, and began to bubble and spurt warm thick liquid. The teacher's eyes widened.
"What do I do?" she demanded.
He looked at her sternly. "You said you were listening, you should know." What a great time to be quizzing her on if she was listening, she thought. A sizzling bubble hit her on the cheek. She jumped, looked around and put aluminum foil from on the table on top to cover it.
It melted, she screamed, grabbed it with a towel, and dumped it in the sink. The orange turned to acid green, and the sink immediately began to melt, and the metal ripped up and curled, sizzling, and the room was filled with a stench just as Mr. Ovenman's head fell desperately into his palm.
The air turned gray, and people began to choke, Mr. Ovenman shook his head and Crete stood there, red faced from the burning flying liquid, and wide-eyed. "Oops…"
* * *
Neville stood in the classroom, packing his things slowly. He felt so ashamed. This was one of his clumsiest days ever. If his Gran knew what a disgrace he was to society, she could never show her face again.
He dumped his cauldron over in the sink and began to scrub with a brush. Just then there was a clunk and a rock, completely clear, and glossy hit the bottom of the sink. He picked it up, confused. He hadn't put anything like that in his potion, he was sure of it. He shrugged, and put it aside before continuing scrubbing.
* * *
Crete remained in the classroom with only Mr. Ovenman. He stayed in while she tried to clean up, and make sure she didn't destroy anything more. She sadly picked up the beaker, and underneath it, was a rock, white, clear, rounded, and glossy. She turned to throw it in the trash, but stopped. She pocketed it in her front sweater pouch like anything else that she "rat-packed" as her friends called it. It meant that she stuffed anything in there that she thought she would keep and might come in handy for later mischief. Maybe it would bring her luck…
* * *
Neville was just leaving when he remember his rock by the sink. He retrieved it, and was about to throw it away, when he caught himself. This rock had been clear when he pulled it out, unlike everything in the cauldron that had been a slimy yellow. He put it down his front pocket in his robes, and gave it a tap. Maybe it would bring him luck…
* * *
It was the last class of the day, and Neville did not want to go the History of Magic. He took his seat with quill and parchment. But after the bell rang, he instead rested his head in his arms. His Ghost teacher stood up, and began to drawl on about the goblin rebellions of 300 B.C.
* * *
Crete wasn't sure what time exactly, but the last thing she remembered was putting her overworked hand down on her desk and slowly falling into a slumber listening to her teacher drawl on about Zebulon Pike and his trek across the Louisiana Territory in the 1800's.
* * *
"Neville Longbottom, please report to the principals office immediately." Neville jumped as he heard his name on the intercom. He noticed Professor Binns hadn't even stumbled over his words, but completely continued talking, even if all eyes were on Neville instead of him.
* * *
"…Now you must realize that Zebulon Pike may not seem like an important asset to history, but his story – "
The teacher's lecture was cut off by the arrival of an office helper with a note. The teacher read the note and blankly announced, "Crete the office wants to see you right now."
Crete stood up – "With your bag."
Everyone watched her as she grabbed her stuff and made a speedy exit.
* * *
Neville stood outside Professor Dumbledore's office, tapping his foot very fast on the floor. He knew that Dumbledore would have Snape inside the office, and Neville would get in trouble for the incident in Potions class. He began to pace back and forth in the hall, he didn't want to get into a lot of trouble, and this was only the third day of the year.
* * *
Crete stood outside the Vice Principals office, her hands in her front sweater pocket. It was where she always put them when she was nervous or embarrassed. She swayed quickly on the balls of her feet, the tension of every minute made her uneasier. How could it be so easy for her to get in so much trouble, only two and half days into the school year.
* * *
The chubby hand, and the long thin fingers of two children moved into their pockets, and grasped the clear stone. "…I would give anything to get out of this mess…" the voices echoed in rhythm, and as one, the stones began to steadily glow within the pockets, until the white light was almost blinding.
* * *
The door opened. "Wait where's Neville? He was just here, and who are you?" The voice echoed like an empty shadow in Neville's mind as everything became white, and the words of others blurred together.
* * *
"Who are you little boy? Did you see a tall girl with brown hair, she was just out here?" The woman's words became steadily harder to hear, until the only thing that Crete could detect was the endless white all around her, and the intensive feeling of being spun very fast…
A/N: TaaDaah! Well remember R/R!!!
- - -CRetE- - -