"I know quite well who you are." The girl with braided hair stood. She was nearly O'Bannon's height of 5'10 with a clear complexion that radiated the air of superiority all Slytherins walked around with.
"I attended the hockey game between your . . . friends and my House." A smirk crossed the girl's lips. "I especially loved when Urquhart broke your ankle."
O'Bannon grunted. "You know what I loved about that game? The fact we kicked your sorry asses."
The girl's eyes narrowed. O'Bannon could picture daggers shooting from them and piercing his heart.
"So." O'Bannon folded his arms. "What brings you to my school . . . um, what did you say your name was?"
"I didn't. It's Serinta Sejant, if you must know. And this is Cecelia Malfoy." She nodded to the girl behind her, who was still sitting down.
O'Bannon swallowed a breath. His face contorting with disdain, he peered around Serinta. Cecilia Malfoy seemed content to stare at her intertwined fingers.
"I didn't know the smarmy little prick had a sister."
"Cousin, actually." Cecilia's head snapped up, her eyes narrowed.
"And to answer your question . . ." Serinta mirrored O'Bannon's contemptuous expression. "We're here to do what all foreign exchange students do. Learn the culture of another country."
"When the hell did you Slytherins start caring about other people's culture?"
"You can believe what you like. Honestly, it doesn't matter to me. Now if you'd remove yourself from my compartment. Being this close to a Mudblood makes me ill."
O'Bannon's face tightened in anger. He clenched his fists. Oh, if Serinta wasn't a girl . . .
Rosa pushed past him and pointed her finger inches from Serinta's face. "I'd zip those lips of yours before I rip them off, you damn bigot."
"Try it and it will be the last thing you ever do." Serinta's voice matched the icy stare she fixed on Rosa.
Rosa took another step toward the Slytherin when Jared grabbed hold of her arm. "Chill out, cuz. Let's not get in trouble before we even leave the dock. Besides, she ain't worth it."
Serinta and Rosa continued to glare at one another. Finally, with an unlady-like snort, Rosa backed into the corridor. O'Bannon and Jared joined her moments later.
"I hope we don't cross paths again," said Serinta, while Cecilia continued to examine her folded hands.
"Trust me. I'll make it a point to avoid you."
With a parting scowl, O'Bannon and his friends headed down the corridor.
"Well, now I can see why you hate those Slytherins so much." Jared looked back in the direction of Serinta's and Cecilia's cabin. "That Serinta chick was a total snot."
"She's a friggin' racist is what she is," Rosa spat. "She didn't think twice about using . . . that word."
"Hey. For Slytherins calling people like me Mudblood comes as natural as breathing."
Rosa shook her head, her rock candy-shaped earrings swaying. "I can't believe Headmistress Esmeralda would let someone like that into Salem. Or that Headmaster Dumbledore would send us someone like that."
O'Bannon nodded quietly. He remembered when he went through the process of qualifying for the exchange program to Europe. The Salem faculty didn't just consider grades, but the person's character as well. An exchange student not only represented their school, but their entire country as well. No school would want to send someone overseas who'd embarrass them. It made him wonder why Headmaster Dumbledore would consent to let a raging bitch like Serinta Sejant represent Hogwarts.
Unless someone went behind his back to do it.
They reached the staircase at the end of their corridor. O'Bannon started to ascend when a female voice called out from the cabin to his left.
"Jimmy!"
A short girl with long brown hair and bangs covering her forehead darted out of the cabin.
"Hey, Rana."
Rana Rollingsworth threw her arms around him in a great big hug and gave him a peck on the cheek. O'Bannon held his breath for a moment.
"Um . . . hey. Good to see you, too."
The Seeker for the Blazenrowe Hall Quidditch team released O'Bannon. She continued staring at him with a huge, beautiful smile. "I missed you last year. I'm so happy you're back."
"Thanks. Good to be back, and good to see you, too." He'd known Rana since First Year, and while always nice, he never remembered her being so . . . affectionate toward him. Not that he minded.
Rana briefly waved and said hello to Rosa and Jared, then turned back to O'Bannon. "You have to tell me all about England. It must have been awesome being at Hogwarts. Merlin's Beard, you are so lucky."
"Yeah, I had some good times there. Met some real cool people, formed a hockey team over there. I enjoyed the whole thing . . . well, except what happened at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament."
Rana chewed on her lip and lowered her eyes for a moment. "Yeah. That boy who died. That must have been horrible."
"You have no idea." A shiver went up O'Bannon's spine as he pictured Diggory's lifeless body.
"Wha . . . What about the stuff about You-Know-Who? They say Harry Potter's making it up. Is it true?"
"Harry's not making up it. He says You-Know-Who came back and killed Cedric Diggory."
"But what about all those stories in The All-Seeing Eye?"
"It's bullcrap. You-Know-Who's back. Harry said so, and Headmaster Dumbledore and my buds Fred and George stand by him. That's good enough for me. I couldn't care less what The All-Seeing Eye or the Daily Prophet says."
Rana closed her eyes and sighed. O'Bannon noticed her tremble slightly.
Moments later, she reopened her eyes and nodded. "I believe you, Jimmy."
A bolt of pure energy shot through him. O'Bannon didn't try to stop the huge smile spreading across his face. Maybe convincing people about Voldemort's return wouldn't be as hard as he thought.
"Besides," Rana continued. "I agree with my folks. The All-Seeing Eye isn't worth lining an owl cage with. Especially after they printed all those lies about Mom and Dad ordering their players to use illegal hexes on other Quidditch teams."
"Thanks, Rana."
A bell clanged throughout the corridor, followed by Cepheus' magically amplified voice.
"SALEM SCHOONER READY TO DEPART. ALL STUDENTS PLEASE GO TO YOUR CABINS."
Rana frowned briefly, then flashed O'Bannon a smile. "I'll see you later, Jimmy."
"Sure."
She bounced on the balls of her feet for a moment, then hugged him again before turning to leave. O'Bannon, Rosa and Jared climbed the steps to the first deck and proceeded down the corridor, occasionally sidestepping students headed to their cabins.
"Damn, man. She seriously wants to jump your bones."
"What!" O'Bannon whirled around to face Jared.
His friend shrugged. "Hey. It looked pretty obvious to me. I guess she's finally over Darius Forten."
O'Bannon nodded. Rana and her old boyfriend had been together for two years, until she caught him sucking face with Ivy Chatham, aka "The Salem Skank," in the Blazenrowe Hall trophy room.
"Holy crap," Jared blurted. "If you got a shot, you gotta go for it. Her parents own the Boston Bandits. You start going out with her, we can get into all their games for free. Who knows. Maybe her parents can hook us all up with tickets to the next Quidditch World Cup."
O'Bannon's head bobbed from side-to-side. He did like that idea. He'd always gotten along with Rana, plus she was really hot. Besides, he had to start moving on from Mireet Miradeaux. With him back at Salem and her back at Beauxbatons in France, what were the chances they'd ever see one another again?
O'Bannon slowed when he spotted a burly, dark-haired young man with a goatee.
"Yo, Marcel! How's it hangin'?"
Marcel Dubuque turned to him. His face sagged.
"Jimmy," he mumbled before going into his cabin and slamming the door shut.
A quizzical look formed on his face. "What crawled up his ass and died?"
Jared glanced at Marcel's cabin as they passed by. "He's pissed because he got passed over for captain of the hockey team in favor of you."
"Yeah," Rosa chimed in. "He didn't think you should have gotten the "C" since you were in England all last year."
"Where I did create a hockey team from scratch, with witches and wizards who knew jack about the game. That should count for something."
O'Bannon groaned. He did not need this crap before he even called his first tryout. Marcel was probably the best defenseman on Blazenrowe. He hoped the French-Canadian would deal with it and do what was best for the team.
"Well what do you know? Jimbo's back."
A tall, lean boy with thick wavy blond hair turned and stuck out his hand.
"Greg. How're ya doing?" He shook hands with Gregory Lancemore, Keeper and captain of the Blazenrowe Quidditch team.
"Missed having you around the dorm last year. So how was Hogwarts?"
"It was a hell of an experience . . . both good and bad, you know."
"Yeah, I do. Hey, you gotta tell me all about it. But right now . . ." He lowered his voice and nodded to the cabin next to him. "I'm kind of busy."
O'Bannon peeked inside to find two smiling, attractive girls, one blond, one a redhead.
He couldn't help but smile. Gregory Lancemore was Salem's resident ladies man.
"Good luck, man." O'Bannon slapped him on the shoulder. "See you later."
"You got it. Hey, Jared . . . Rosa."
Rosa gave him a barely perceptible nod. She had been one of the numerous girls at Salem to fall under Gregory's charms, though that only lasted a few months.
When they reached their cabin they found a tall boy with an angular face and close cropped brown hair in one of the seats.
"Guys! You're here!" Artimus Rand's face lit up. Had he been a dog, O'Bannon was sure Rand's tail would be wagging.
He sat down next to Artimus, while Jared and Rosa took the seats across from them.
"So everything go well with your old man?" asked Jared.
"Fine," Artimus muttered, his tone indicating he didn't want to discuss it further.
He probably got a worse lecture than usual, being this is our last year here.
O'Bannon jerked slightly in his seat as the Salem Schooner slipped from its dock and headed into Boston Harbor. He and the others stared out the porthole at the waving relatives crowding the pier. Again he prayed none of them mentioned Harry Potter or You-Know-Who around his parents.
"So what do you think's up with those Slytherins?" Jared asked.
Artimus turned to O'Bannon with a quizzical look. "Slytherins? What about Slytherins?"
O'Bannon ran down their encounter with Serinta Sejant and Cecelia Malfoy. Artimus' jaw dropped.
"Slytherins, going to Salem? Oh man, this is bad."
"Yeah, tell me about it."
"No, seriously. I mean, pretty much every dark wizard in British history has come out of Slytherin House. My Dad's even had a few business dealings with them. He hates working with them. They're real shady, underhanded. What do you think they're up to?"
O'Bannon shook his head. "Beats me. Obviously nothing good."
"Ashame, too." Jared frowned. "They weren't bad looking. Especially that Malfoy girl. I couldn't believe how quiet she was, especially considering what you said her cousin Draco's like."
Rosa turned to him. "You know what they say. Sometimes it's the quiet ones you really have to watch out for."
Jared bobbed his head from side-to-side. "Or, maybe she didn't like being around that Serinta chick either. Who knows, maybe she's the more decent of the two."
"Dude, have you been smoking toadstools? They don't put decent people in Slytherin."
Jared held up his hands. "Yo, relax, Jimmy. It's just a thought. Besides, didn't you tell me there were a couple Gryffindors who were a-holes?"
"Yeah, Cormac McLaggen fit that bill."
"Well then, it seems reasonable to assume that if a couple a-holes got sorted into Gryffindor, then a couple of decent people could get sorted into Slytherin."
"Yeah, maybe." But the next decent Slytherin O'Bannon came across would be the first.
Rosa decided to get everyone's minds off You-Know-Who and the Slytherin girls when she suggested they compare their class schedules. O'Bannon smiled when he saw they had four classes together . . . History of Magic, Potions, Theoretical Magic and Seventh Year Seminar.
"Well I already got my seminar subject picked out," Jared announced. "Evidence showing that cyclopses still exist. How about you, Art?"
"I don't know." Artimus shrugged. "Maybe something on business and government."
"Borrrr-ing. Rosa, how about you?"
"It's gonna be something to do with aurors, I know that much. What about you, Jimmy?"
"It's a toss-up. Either how Muggle-borns have impacted the Wizarding World or something about Quidditch in the U.S."
"Pick Quidditch," said Jared. "That's a lot more fun."
O'Bannon gave him a half-hearted nod. He'd been leaning a bit more to the Muggle-born one, considering the attitudes quite a few purebloods had toward people like him.
As the schooner neared Deer Island, O'Bannon, Rosa, Jared and Artimus headed up to the top deck. A cool, salt tinged sea breeze greeted them. Several other students lined the railing, gazing out at the rolling waves, the islands dotting Boston Harbor, and the airliners taking off and landing at Logan International.
"I wonder how the Muggles get those things to fly," said a girl whom O'Bannon guessed to be a Second or Third Year.
Rosa sighed and rested her elbows on the railing, the wind whipping around her hair.
"I can't believe this is the last time we're going to make this trip."
"Yeah. Graduation year." Jared joined his cousin at the railing. "It's weird. Part of me's looking forward to it, but another part . . ."
O'Bannon chewed on his lower lip as a pair of jet skis darted by. One of the drivers, a very fit, attractive woman with her wet dark hair matted to her head and shoulders, waved to the Salem Schooner. With all the charms surrounding this ship the Muggle would think she was waving at a whale watching boat or a luxury yacht or a regular sailboat, depending on Cepheus' inclination today.
Graduation. Funny how little he had thought about it over the past few months. Of course he had a lot of other things on his mind than what to do after graduation.
Of course, if You-Know-Who wins, whatever future plans I have won't mean jack.
"Hey, Jimmy." Jared nudged him in the ribs. "Look who's coming."
He followed Jared's gaze across the deck. A shiver went through him when he saw Rana Rollingsworth step away from a small knot of girls and start toward him.
"Yeah. Look who's coming."
O'Bannon furrowed his brow. Rosa's tone didn't sound as jubilant as her cousin's.
From the opposite side of the deck he watched a dozen boys and girls walking toward him. Some he recognized. Darius Forten, Ursa Oberlin, Isaac Pinder and Ivy Chatham. In the lead was a roundish young man with a puffed up face and black hair. His authoritative stride and look of arrogance would have made him a perfect fit with the Slytherins.
"Jimmy O'Bannon. Finally back at Salem."
"No, I'm actually a Doppelganger Spell. The real Jimmy's back at Hogwarts."
Merak Mather frowned slightly at the joke. "Yes, Hogwarts. A lot of interesting things happened while you were over there. Like the Tri-Wizard Tournament."
O'Bannon exhaled. Hinkey hairs went up on the back of his neck as he kept his eyes locked on Merak.
"I wouldn't call watching a friend port key back with the body of another kid interesting."
Merak took a step toward him. "Well, we're all curious, Jimmy. Because The All-Seeing Eye says that Harry Potter is making up all these stories about You-Know-Who returning. Then when we ask your friends about it . . ." His eyes darted from Jared to Rosa to Artimus. "They say it's true. You were there. What say you about it?"
"It is true." O'Bannon didn't hesitate in his response. "You-Know-Who is back."
Isaac Pinder visibly shuddered. So did another young boy he didn't recognize. Ursa Oberlin's Adam's apple bobbed up and down.
"I don't care what you've read in the Eye. You-Know-Who came back, killed Cedric Diggory, and almost killed Harry. Now he's building up an army to start a second war."
"Did you actually see You-Know-Who?"
"If I did, I don't think I'd be standing here right now."
Merak chuckled and shook his head. "Then if you didn't see him, how can you go around saying he's back?"
"Because Harry said so."
"Oh, I see." Merak's tone got a bit sharper. "So you're going to take the word of a fifteen-year-old boy over that of The All-Seeing Eye and the British Ministry of Magic?"
"This fifteen-year-old boy? Yeah, I definitely take his word for it."
The corner of Merak's nose twitched. "You know, O'Bannon. My father happens to be good friends with the Minister of Magic over there. We were even invited to sit in his private box at the Quidditch World Cup last year. The Minister personally told my father that Harry Potter is nothing more than an unstable boy who would do anything for attention. Including making up stories about the return of the most evil wizard in history."
O'Bannon snorted and took a big step closer to Merak. He craned his neck to look eyeball-to-eyeball with the taller boy. "Well in my opinion, Cornelius Fudge is a dumbass, who's more concerned about hanging on to his job than actually fighting You-Know-Who."
"There is no You-Know-Who to fight!" Merak's face reddened. His nose was mere inches from O'Bannon's. "Do you think it's funny going around spreading the lies of a snot-nosed limey kid? I lost my grandmother, an uncle and a sister in the war. And my father had a hand blown off by a Death Eater at the Battle of Smithjohnny Bridge. So I am not going to stand by and let you make light of one of the darkest periods of wizarding history."
"And I'm not gonna stand around and let people keep their heads buried in the sand while that s.o.b. gets ready for a second war."
Merak scowled and shook his head. "I wouldn't expect your kind to understand."
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" O'Bannon sensed Jared move next to him.
"A Muggle-born. You have no clue how horrific that war was. To you it's nothing but words in your History of Magic book. But for a lot of us it's part of our lives. Do you know how many students at Salem had relatives die during the war? What were your relatives doing during that time? Sitting in their little Muggle homes, watching their TVOs and eating pee-zizz?"
O'Bannon's shoulders rose and fell with angry breaths. "Trust me. I have a clue. I got it three months ago when I saw Cedric Diggory lying dead on the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts!"
"You-Know-Who did not kill Cedric Diggory!" Spittle hung from the middle of Merak's lower lip.
"Right. I guess he just decided to use a Killing Curse on himself."
Seething, Merak backed away, aiming a finger at O'Bannon. "You better stop talking about this stuff if you know what's good for you."
"Don't even try to threaten me," O'Bannon scoffed.
"You keep supporting that Potter kid's lies, you may find it hard to get a good job after you graduate. My father has connections all over this country."
"Well whoopty-freakin'-do."
Merak glared at Rosa and Jared. "I'd give you two the same advice, but it'd be pointless. If this . . . Muggle-born told you to run into a dragon's nest and steal an egg, you'd do it."
Jared laughed. "We did that when we were nine."
"And boy did we get yelled at when we came home with that egg," Rosa added.
He glared at the cousins, then turned to Artimus. "Rand, you're the only smart one of the bunch. If you don't want to embarrass your family's name, you'd do well to go along with your father."
Artimus didn't respond. He simply lowered his head.
Merak whirled around with great flourish and stormed off. Several other students followed. O'Bannon noticed Ivy Chatham and Darius Forten shake their heads before they left.
Only Isaac Pinder remained. The small boy looked over his shoulder. When the others were out of earshot, he walked up to O'Bannon and said in a low voice. "I believe you."
He then darted off.
O'Bannon tried to feel elated. But to only have two others outside Rosa, Jared and Artimus believe him wasn't much to get excited about.
Especially if most of the school felt the same way as Merak Mather.
"Art." Rosa stepped over to Artimus. "What did he mean about your father?"
Artimus sighed and turned around, resting his arms on the railing. Several seconds passed before he spoke. "My father thinks Harry Potter's lying. He knows Cornelius Fudge, too, from when he was the U.S. Wizarding ambassador to Britain. Fudge told him all that fame at a young age pushed Potter over the edge."
"That's a load of crap," Jared growled.
"Not only that, but Fudge and my father talked about you too."
O'Bannon's face scrunched up in surprise. "What the hell does Fudge care about me for?"
"It's because of the hockey game you had between the Triad and the Slytherins. That made big news over there. Fudge knows that you became good friends with Fred and George Weasley, and they're good friends with Harry Potter. Fudge is afraid . . . well, he's afraid you might be working with Potter and Headmaster Dumbledore to drum up opposition to him in this country."
"You gotta be kidding me." Okay, Dumbledore did want him to drum up opposition in this country. Opposition to You-Know-Who, that is.
Artimus dropped his head to his chest. "Anyway, just before I got on the schooner, my father said it would be best if I . . . limited my contact with you . . . all of you."
O'Bannon stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and scowled. They hadn't even reached Salem, and already his seventh and final year was starting to suck.
TO BE CONTINUED