Aieeeeee. There's a mystery behind Harry? Hmmmm... I guess so. Thanks a lot, man, now I want to know what it is!!! (in my own fic, too. aren't I pathetic?) I'm thinking of throwing in some time travel. Too cliche? I need your opinions, folks.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own random, insane characters. I don't even have Oliver Wood locked in my closet anymore, because he was eating all my peanut butter and jelly and so my mommy said we couldn't keep him anymores. :'( (:P)
Monday morning finally rolled around, and Alexandra Jean Henry jumped out of bed. It was 8:30. Her first class of the day started at nine. She ran across the stone floor of the Gryffindor girls' dormitory, and skidded into the bathroom. She hastily brushed her teeth, washed her face, and whipped her curly brown hair back into pigtails. As she ran back to her trunk at the foot of her bed, she muttered, "Crayonius" and turned the tips of her hair a vibrant shade of green. It matched her eyes. She threw on her school robes, grabbed her book bag, and practically flew down the stairs, out the portrait hole, and through the corridors to reach the dungeon in which potions was taught.
Jean slipped into an empty seat next to her best friend, Jonathan, who was a sixth year Slytherin. He didn't even glance at her, as at that very same moment, a pale skinned, greasy haired man walked into the room. "You're late, Miss Henry," he sneered, "Ten points off Gryffindor."
Jean flinched and sunk down lower in her seat to be hidden behind her stack of books. Jonathan shot her a look of contempt. She had, of course, promised to meet him before class, though she didn't know why.
~*~*~*~flashback~*~*~*~*~
"Jean!"
"Yeah, Jonathan?" there was something wrong… or at least something different in his pale blue eyes, a glimmer of something that she had never seen before.
"I need you to- umm- can you….?" he couldn't quite spit it out.
"What, Jonathan? I really need to be going," she looked over her shoulder. It was five o'clock Saturday afternoon. Harry Potter was supposed to meet her at the Three Broomsticks at five thirty.
"Um……"
She gave him an impatient look.
"Couldyoumeetmebeforepotionsmonday? It'sreallyimportantandIneedtotalktoyouaboutit." He slurred all of his words together.
"Sure, anything." She replied, not thinking much about it or anything at all other than her coming date.
Soon she was at the Three Broomsticks with a stunning boy of about 17. He had messy, jet black hair, and shocking green eyes - not unlike her own. His muscular build revealed his quidditch skills in an instant.
His eyes met hers, the little boy within asking this little girl to come out and play.
~*~*~*~*~end flashback~*~*~*~*~
She had, of course, realized just how wrong se had been about Harry Potter, though. If she were not muggle born, she would have known that "The boy who lived" was not truly seventeen as he claimed to be. He was four and a half years older. "It's like those pedifiles they warn you about on the internet," she thought and shuddered.
Something made her look up. It was no more than a sudden tingling curiosity. The sudden hush over the class, possibly. Or it could have been the slight tension she sensed from the girls around her. Jean glanced up and found herself locking eyes with a gorgeous (and dare I say, sexy?) blond man. She knew him… she blushed furiously, and stood to leave.
"Miss Henry." The greasy voice stopped her. Jean looked up to find that Professor Snape was standing in the door way. His feet planted firmly. He mouthed something to her, and the glimmer in his eyes told her everything she didn't want to be true. Severus Snape knew. The greasiest, slimiest, filthiest man on the surface of the earth was aware of her encounter with Harry.
She took a deep breath. "Professor," she paused and regained the confidence that was quickly slipping away from her, "I left my textbook in the common room," she closed her eyes and cursed herself for coming up with such a lame excuse, "May I go retrieve it?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the blond man giving the professor a nasty look, and the professor tensing slightly.
"Yes, Miss Henry, I suppose you may go," he sighed, regretting it the moment he gave in, "20 points off Gryffindor for not being prepared!" he barked suddenly, "And don't come to my class unprepared again!"
She turned to go, but she had left her bag on the table. The well built blond scooped it up and handed it to her, feeling the potions book inside. He gave her a knowing glance as he did so, and Jean tried to ignore it as she almost ran out of the room.
How could this be happening to her? She was almost over the disappointment and betrayal that Harry left her feeling, but this was too much. It had, of course, been announced that there would be a new potions teacher in training, but just like everyone else in the school, Alexandra Jean had been expecting another git just like Snape.
"They know," she thought as tears began to form in her eyes, "they both know. They're never going to let me live it down."
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own random, insane characters. I don't even have Oliver Wood locked in my closet anymore, because he was eating all my peanut butter and jelly and so my mommy said we couldn't keep him anymores. :'( (:P)
Monday morning finally rolled around, and Alexandra Jean Henry jumped out of bed. It was 8:30. Her first class of the day started at nine. She ran across the stone floor of the Gryffindor girls' dormitory, and skidded into the bathroom. She hastily brushed her teeth, washed her face, and whipped her curly brown hair back into pigtails. As she ran back to her trunk at the foot of her bed, she muttered, "Crayonius" and turned the tips of her hair a vibrant shade of green. It matched her eyes. She threw on her school robes, grabbed her book bag, and practically flew down the stairs, out the portrait hole, and through the corridors to reach the dungeon in which potions was taught.
Jean slipped into an empty seat next to her best friend, Jonathan, who was a sixth year Slytherin. He didn't even glance at her, as at that very same moment, a pale skinned, greasy haired man walked into the room. "You're late, Miss Henry," he sneered, "Ten points off Gryffindor."
Jean flinched and sunk down lower in her seat to be hidden behind her stack of books. Jonathan shot her a look of contempt. She had, of course, promised to meet him before class, though she didn't know why.
~*~*~*~flashback~*~*~*~*~
"Jean!"
"Yeah, Jonathan?" there was something wrong… or at least something different in his pale blue eyes, a glimmer of something that she had never seen before.
"I need you to- umm- can you….?" he couldn't quite spit it out.
"What, Jonathan? I really need to be going," she looked over her shoulder. It was five o'clock Saturday afternoon. Harry Potter was supposed to meet her at the Three Broomsticks at five thirty.
"Um……"
She gave him an impatient look.
"Couldyoumeetmebeforepotionsmonday? It'sreallyimportantandIneedtotalktoyouaboutit." He slurred all of his words together.
"Sure, anything." She replied, not thinking much about it or anything at all other than her coming date.
Soon she was at the Three Broomsticks with a stunning boy of about 17. He had messy, jet black hair, and shocking green eyes - not unlike her own. His muscular build revealed his quidditch skills in an instant.
His eyes met hers, the little boy within asking this little girl to come out and play.
~*~*~*~*~end flashback~*~*~*~*~
She had, of course, realized just how wrong se had been about Harry Potter, though. If she were not muggle born, she would have known that "The boy who lived" was not truly seventeen as he claimed to be. He was four and a half years older. "It's like those pedifiles they warn you about on the internet," she thought and shuddered.
Something made her look up. It was no more than a sudden tingling curiosity. The sudden hush over the class, possibly. Or it could have been the slight tension she sensed from the girls around her. Jean glanced up and found herself locking eyes with a gorgeous (and dare I say, sexy?) blond man. She knew him… she blushed furiously, and stood to leave.
"Miss Henry." The greasy voice stopped her. Jean looked up to find that Professor Snape was standing in the door way. His feet planted firmly. He mouthed something to her, and the glimmer in his eyes told her everything she didn't want to be true. Severus Snape knew. The greasiest, slimiest, filthiest man on the surface of the earth was aware of her encounter with Harry.
She took a deep breath. "Professor," she paused and regained the confidence that was quickly slipping away from her, "I left my textbook in the common room," she closed her eyes and cursed herself for coming up with such a lame excuse, "May I go retrieve it?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the blond man giving the professor a nasty look, and the professor tensing slightly.
"Yes, Miss Henry, I suppose you may go," he sighed, regretting it the moment he gave in, "20 points off Gryffindor for not being prepared!" he barked suddenly, "And don't come to my class unprepared again!"
She turned to go, but she had left her bag on the table. The well built blond scooped it up and handed it to her, feeling the potions book inside. He gave her a knowing glance as he did so, and Jean tried to ignore it as she almost ran out of the room.
How could this be happening to her? She was almost over the disappointment and betrayal that Harry left her feeling, but this was too much. It had, of course, been announced that there would be a new potions teacher in training, but just like everyone else in the school, Alexandra Jean had been expecting another git just like Snape.
"They know," she thought as tears began to form in her eyes, "they both know. They're never going to let me live it down."