The second day was no better. This time they had double potions, and although Stella was slightly better at it than History of Magic, she still dreaded the class, mainly because of Slughorn, who seemed to miss the fact that she was estranged from her family. He also apparently missed the fact that she was a horrible student, and continued to invite her to his "Slug Club" dinners, despite her being one of the worst in her class.
By lunch, exactly 12 boys had asked her out. It was getting absurd, and Sirius was no help, claiming that she tempted the male population by her very looks.
Sitting next to Lily with the other girls at their end of the table, she tried to get into the conversation, but it seemed to revolve around her boyfriend this past summer, and everyone wanted details. Apparently her picture had made it into an issue of a popular Muggle teen magazine after going to a movie premiere with him. She feigned that she had left something back in the dorm as an excuse for an escape, grabbing the rest of her meal and heading out of the Great Hall.
Finding an abandoned hallway to sit in, she sighed as she slouched down next to a statue of a woman with a hump and one eye. She was getting attention from everyone, and it was getting to be a bit much. She doubted very much that if she had a hump and one eye, anyone would pay attention to her. But wasn't it funny that the one person she would have loved to notice her continued to ignore her?
She didn't realize how upset she was getting until sparks flew out of her wand, which was stored safely away in her book bag, incinerating a large hole in the bag and making her books smoke. She cursed her luck, and started stomping on her bag to put out the flames when she was interrupted by Professor Dumbledore strolling around the corner, whistling to himself.
She froze, mid-stomp, and tried to adopt what she thought would be an innocent look.
"Miss Dupont, what a pleasant surprise to find you lurking in my hallway."
"Your hallway?" This must be where his office was. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't realize. I was just looking for a quiet place to eat lunch," she admitted. Something about the headmaster always made her want to tell the truth.
"Indeed, as was I." He surveyed the smoke with sparkling blue eyes. "I'm going to work on the assumption that the smoky atmosphere isn't from a prank or from you picking up a nasty habit," he said.
"No, not at all sir. I- well, I lost control for a second, and apparently my wand decided to take it out on my bag." She gestured to her still-smoking books before nervously running her hand through her silky hair.
"Ah, I see." He surveyed her, and she felt as though he was reading her mind, if that was possible. "Why don't you and your smoking texts join me for lunch in my office?"
"Uhh," she mumbled. Was she about to get in trouble? She wasn't aware of anyone ever being invited to eat with the headmaster.
Wordlessly, she followed him up the moving spiral staircase after gathering her things. Her jaw dropped as she surveyed his office. First were the sleeping portraits of all the former headmasters of Hogwarts since its inception. Next were the silver instruments. It looked like some mysterious muggle laboratory from a movie. Then there was the magnificent phoenix perched elegantly to the side, watching her every movement.
"Wow," she said under her breath as she carefully approached the creature. The bird cooed happily and closed its eyes as she gently stroked its chest. "Sir, you have a phoenix? That is unbelievably cool."
The words were out of her mouth before she thought who she was talking to. He chuckled, however.
"Thank you. Fawkes is an incredible bird, I must agree. But please, have a seat. Make yourself comfortable."
Reluctantly leaving the bird, she sat awkwardly across from the headmaster, and suddenly she was all too aware of her hands. What did she normally do with them when she sat? He looked at her expectantly, and she began searching her brain for what she should be saying.
"Miss Dupont, didn't you think to bring yourself a lunch?"
"Oh!" she cried. Of course. "Yes, I did." She reached into her bag, and pulled out an apple, which alone made it out unsinged.
"Only an apple? Surely you're more hungry than that."
"Well, it was the first thing I grabbed when I left the Great Hall." It was either grab whatever's there and leave immediately, or die of embarrassment, she could have added. Her stomach chose that moment to growl traitorously.
"Ah, well, that won't do at all."
Waving his wand, his desk was suddenly cleared into two place settings that magically filled with food. "Help yourself," he added before he dug into his food.
The two ate in silence for a bit. Stella couldn't think of a single thing to say to the man. Finally the headmaster spoke.
"So, Miss Dupont, I hear you didn't do so well on your OWL exams this past year."
Oh, shit, she thought. Here we go. Suddenly losing her appetite, she pushed her plate away from her. "No sir, I suppose I didn't."
"Only four OWLs, if I'm not mistaken."
"Yes, sir. Care of Magical Creatures, Muggle Studies, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Divination." Only because I have the ability to BS my way through just about anything, she added to herself, thinking of her comical Divination practical.
"Indeed. What a disappointment from such a bright student."
She appreciated that he didn't call her a bright "girl," which generally offended her. Not that four OWLs generally qualified one as a bright anything.
"And how did your parents react?"
She blushed. Her parents hadn't known at all. She hadn't had any communication with her parents since she was fourteen. Her oldest brother wrote her every Christmas and on her birthday, but that was it. The sole person who knew about her abysmal grades was her grandmother, who said that she had creativity and that's all she needed to be happy in life. She hadn't even told Lily or Sirius, who she was pretty sure received OWLs in every class they took.
"They didn't, sir. They don't know."
"And how did you manage that?"
"I don't live with them anymore, sir." Stella shifted uncomfortably in her chair, crossing her fingers underneath the desk that he wasn't about to kick her out of Hogwarts. Fawkes let out a melancholy note.
"You don't?" He sounded surprised, giving half a glance to the phoenix. "Then where are you living now?"
"I stay with my grandmother in France during the summer. I haven't seen my parents in two years." Stella started jiggling her foot anxiously, waiting for the axe to fall.
"Two years? My, my. I'm sorry to hear that. I suspected something was amiss, but I wasn't sure what."
She nodded, unsure why he should be noticing this in a school of a thousand students and a full faculty, plus all the other things he was involved with in the middle of what was starting to become a wizarding war.
"Your grandmother lives outside of Nice now, am I right?"
"Yes, sir," she said quietly. There was a long pause.
"Sir," she interrupted his thoughts. "Professor, please don't kick me out of school. I'll raise my grades this year, I promise. And I'll stay on my best behavior. Please don't kick me out. I have nothing else outside of this school."
"Oh, no, Stella my dear, I have no intentions of kicking you out," he chuckled, and she was surprised he called her Stella and not Margaux, like the rest of the teachers did. She liked it and let out a gush of air in relief. "Although you would certainly benefit from better grades and better behavior. Now tell me. Exactly why were you outside of my office this lunch?"
"I didn't know it was your office. I was just looking for a quiet place to spend lunch."
"And why was that?" He pressed.
"I don't know," she mumbled, playing with the hem on her skirt. "Sometimes the Great Hall just gets a little overwhelming."
"I certainly understand that. I, too, enjoy spending my lunches in places other than the boisterous Great Hall. But as a student, I'm surprised that stresses you."
"It's not the noise that bothers me. I just hate being the center of all the school gossip. First it was because I was placed in Gryffindor, then because I made the Quidditch team, now, I don't know. I just can't stand being stared at like I'm some kind of freak."
"I see." He nodded, and Stella truly felt as though he understood where she was coming from. "It's strange to me. I feel like we spend most of our adolescence trying to blend into the crowd, and then most of our adult lives trying to make ourselves stand out. It's truly ludicrous, don't you think?" Stella nodded, not really sure if she knew what he meant. "I mean, as a teenager, I was so embarrassed by my height and how gangly I was. And my father's reputation, too, as it were. It seems so trivial now, but as a youngster, I was simply mortified."
Stella wondered what his father had a reputation for. The school bell rang, though, signaling the end of lunch.
"Ah, how time slips away. Have a nice day, Miss Dupont. I enjoyed spending lunch with you."
"You too, sir. And thank you." She smiled. It was nice to see a human aspect of the headmaster so many feared.
"Perhaps tomorrow you'd like to spend lunch with me as well? I would surely appreciate the company. And we can talk more about your studies."
"I would like that, too."
"And for the record, I thoroughly enjoy Sugar Quills."
"Yes, sir." She was completely bewildered at that statement. Did he expect her to bring him sugar quills? She doubted it. Leave it to the cooky headmaster to have a completely normal conversation and end it like that. "See you tomorrow."