Stitches
Starla looked around the grand hall and had to admit, she was impressed.
The large room filled with rambunctious children of all ages, amazing architect that made Starla's inner-craftsman swoon with happiness, and the amazing ceiling that seemed to represent the sky outside with the use of magic was something that Starla couldn't keep her eyes off of.
Where Voodoo arts was known as a subtle magic, the reason it isn't known publicly among the European Magical World, the magics performed by Wizards and Witches was certainly something to gaze at in all of its extremity and beauty.
All doubts of coming here and wasting her time vanished when she saw this small sample. With the added help of lessons with her Wand and manipulating magic in a new way, Starla had no doubts that she would become someone who even the dispersed and hermit-like Practitioners would look up to as a whole.
Starla's ambitious thoughts were cut short, however, as she noticed the Headmaster. Starla dislikes reminders, and the Headmaster was very big reminder. He was an oldish looking man who had long white hair and bright clothing, but the thing that made Starla's lip twitch downward in her version of a frown was the twinkle in his eye.
That twinkle reminded her of another one of her teachers, she forgot his name, but she usually referred to him as Twinkle-eye, but his twinkling eyes would always be in her memory. The way they would shine in amusement when she would tell him of the other kids pushing her into puddles or pulling her hair. The way he would casually dismiss the accusation as 'just playing around.
Starla shivered in glee as she remembered the way she had taken those twinkling eyes and extinguished the light in them like they were a candle. Fortunately, Starla remembered where she was and cautiously sat down with the rest of the first years, trying to reign in the malice she was feeling at Twinkle-eye 2.0, mentally preparing herself for the coming house picking ceremony into the school. The old Professor, She had said her name, but Starla had never been good with names, came into view once more with an old hat.
Starla looked at the musty, decrepit hat with distaste, leveling a critical gaze at the state of it. The hat seemed ancient and she could feel some magic around it, but her inner-craftsman was once again going berserk and not in a good way. Starla had a feeling that her inner-craftsmen was going to either going to be jumping with joy or dying from a heart-attack by the end of the day. She wasn't expecting the Sorting Hat opening it mouth and in a clear voice singing.
Oh you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!
Starla stood stock still with her mouth open in shock by the Sorting Hat's actions. Instead of just being a regular hat that had minor enchantments, this hat sang a song! A SONG! This was incredible! Starla had no idea that Wizards were capable of such magic.
It was a simple song that it sang, but the amazing enchantments it would require to do such a thing while also moving in coalition with its magically produced voice was amazing. Really, Starla was sort of jealous and mentally wrote herself a note about learning more about constructs such as this.
The thought of having a small army of large and moving dolls made Starla quiver in excitement, her lip was practically going crazy. Starla watched, enraptured by the hat, as it was put on the first year's heads. She didn't really care about which houses any of the others got in, but being able to see such a magnificent creation in action was something she couldn't pass up.
She was so lost in herself and the beauties of the hat, that she forgot her surroundings until the name "Starla Potter" rang through the air. All of the students and faculty members in the Great Hall scanned through the rest of the room, trying to pick out the famous hero that had saved them when she was just a little girl.
Starla sighed to herself, she didn't like the fame she was given for doing nothing. It made it harder to make your own name when you were literally living in a shadow of yourself, kind of funny really.
Starla forced herself to stand as the echos of the name started to dissipate and she could hear the gasps of shock from Red-Hair and Fuzzy-Hair from the Griffindor table. They had obviously not realized that they were talking to their culture's youngest hero and probably even more shocked that she hadn't told them.
Starla could imagine that Fuzzy-Hair would most likely now be berating herself mentally at not putting together the pieces for herself when she had been introduced, while Red-Hair would continue to wallow in his shock for the next few minutes, getting very comfortably situated with the dumb look of enlightenment.
She could feel the stares burning holes on my back and I resisted the urge to turn around a stare right back at them with vehemence. She sat in the chair, taking off the beanie hat that she had worn up until now, that had been placed for all newcomers and welcomed the feeling of the hat being placed in her.
The closeness she had with such a complex creation was amazing, even if it smelt of old people and looked like it had been beaten with the ugly stick.
'Well, well, well, the young Starla Potter certainly has a way with words.'
What in the?! Was the Hogwarts Hat really reading her mind?!
'Yes. Yes I am. Now, lets begin shall we.'
Hold up, what are you going to do to me?
'I am about to decide your house Ms. Potter so please quiet down and let me continue.'
Starla's eyes widened at getting scolded by a hat, a magical hat, but a hat nonetheless.
'You are a very special case Starla Potter, what with your skills of Voodoo, and experiences in life. You are not particularly courageous, disliking personal encounters, and liking to stick to the walls of society. You are cunning, but your history and own personal goals would get in the way of your growth if I were to put you in Slytherin. You seem to be okay with Hufflepuff, a shock in most of your generation, but you really have your eyes set on Ravenclaw don't you? You certainly seem intelligent enough for it Mrs. Potter and you have the knowledge hungry aspect that most Ravenclaw possess, even if yours is more unstable than usual. Yes I think you will do great things in- RAVENCLAW!'
As the hat was removed Starla was confronted by the hundreds of stupefied stares that belonged to the students. They all seemed to be digesting the fact that most of them had been wrong in the assumption of her going into Griffindor, but a swarm of cheering and yells from the Ravenclaw table told her that it had sunk in somewhat.
With her ever impassive face, Starla put her black beanie hat back on, before heading off towards the table and students that she would come know for the rest of her school career. At first they seemed to be a little awkward or nervous in speaking with her, most likely from her fame in the Magical Community, but they quickly warmed up to her.
Well, as much as they could, for her title wasn't the only thing that freaked them out or unnerved them, no, her emotionless face and closed off emotions were another thing that made her seem less approachable.
They were also uncomfortable about the searching stare she gave them, making them feel like they were put on an examining table and cut open. Starla looked over to the Griffindor table, the loudest one, and quickly found Fuzzy-Hair talking to some of the other girls.
However, she must have said the wrong thing, because the other girls started to ignore her and start another conversation, visibly leaving Fuzzy-Hair out of the loop.
Starla couldn't help but remember with a twitching lip, her own despicable childhood, where as she had embraced the loneliness and made friends with her dolls, Fuzzy-Hair didn't seem to be the person who could find friends like her own in the same way that Starla had. However, Starla disliked reminders and the depressed atmosphere around Fuzzy-Hair was certainly a reminder.
She lowered her head as the rest of her classmates paid her no attention, Starla mentally sighed in relief at the fact that Ravenclaw Housemates weren't ones to care about someone's fame or accomplishments as much as the other House's most likely would and merely looked at the intelligence a person possessed.
Starla got out her sewing kit and took small peek at Fuzzy-Hair's figure one last time before getting to work on a new doll.
Hermione POV
Hermione glanced at the Griffindor girls around her, before sighing in resignation, condemning herself to one again being lonely her entire year at Hogwarts. She had never been good at situations with other children her age when it came to social matters and people who were older than her always looked down on her or got angry at how she upstaged them on knowing things.
Sometimes Hermione wondered if being so curious about things was a blessing or a curse. Even when she was a little girl Hermione found the world around her exciting and interesting and quickly moved through the first years of her life learning things in weeks where it would take normal babies months.
Her already inquisitive nature was encouraged by her parents, which had shaped the way she was today.
When she was younger her mother would always smile in pride when Hermione would come home with a perfect grade or add some detail to an explanation.
Hermione cherished the moments when her mother and father would look at her with unfiltered love, making her feel warmth even during the winter. Hermione strived to be the best little girl in her parent's eyes, but it had all come crashing down when she had went to school.
Where her parents would grace her upstanding knowledge on things and quick grasp on new subjects with love and encouragement, the students around her would make fun of her out of anger and envy, mocking her 'know-it-all' self. Every day she would come home crying to her parents from all the bullying and have tales of despair about how all the kids called her beaver or pulled on her hair.
Hermione had slowly gotten worse and worse at making friends and even the small amount she had left her for others when she started to rant about things they didn't understand or constantly berate them for not knowing the correct things. Yet, under all the façade of being a know-it-all and only needing books, Hermione wallowed in her nervousness and constant insecure turmoil.
That was the thing she had done now. She had shoved all of her acquired Hogwarts knowledge into a gigantic pill and had tried to force feed it to the girl around her. Naturally they had pulled away from the source of their discomfort and had started their own separate groups, blatantly ignoring Hermione.
Hermione wondered if she would ever have a friend in this place. The only person here that hadn't shown any irritation at all was Starla Potte- Hermione stopped dead in her thoughts and wrapped her arms quickly around her midriff.
Her eyes widen a little as she has to force down a small groan from the discomfort she was feeling. It felt like some one had punched her in the gut and all the air had fled from her body. She wondered if this was what Ron had felt like when he was in discomfort.
Ron! Did he get her sick!? Was this a magical disease that she hadn't built up the suitable immunity like Ron had!? He seemed to go through discomfort as well, but had gotten over it! There was a chance she hadn't had the chance to grow immune to it, so it was safe to say that Hermione could be in danger of a magical variation of the flu! Would this be the downfall of her, a way similar to the Indians of America when they were introduced to the Spanish?! Hermione was beginning to hyperventilate when the feeling disappeared.
It wasn't a slow ebbing away that would have made Hermione sigh in relief, no it was an instant relief that made Hermione cautious and hesitant to relax her grip from her stomach. After a few moments of thinking it through, Hermione relaxed releasing her grip from her gut which allowed her to breathe in more deeply.
Hermione looked up and all of her accumulated breath left her in a large gasp that went unnoticed by the girls around her. There, on the the other side of the room, Hermione saw Starla Potter looking at her intently, rarely blinking.
This, however odd and unnatural on its own, was not the reason for Hermione's shock and minute fear. In Starla's hand there was a doll, but it was no ordinary doll. It had brown buttons for eyes along with bushy brown looking cloth for hair.
It also wore a Griffindor Hogwarts Robe that looked like a many replicate of her own. Yes, the doll in Starla Potter's hand-held an extremely disconcerting familiarity with Hermione. She stared at the doll for a few more seconds and tried to make sense of what was happening to her.
The doll was creepy, but it seemed to hold a potential for fear that no doll should ever have. Hermione glanced up at Starla's face once more and was caught off guard by the change in emotion from earlier. Hermione had never seen someone as emotionless as Starla and was immediately freaked out by the odd occurrence before her.
Starla Rose Potter's lip was twitching up, into what seemed like a smile, at her.
Starla's POV
Starla stared at Hermione gauging her reaction to seeing the masterpiece in Starla's hand. She didn't always show off her work to the person she based it on, but she was making an exception for Fuzzy-Hair.
Fuzzy-Hair had shown some interest in dolls so it would be a crime to not allow Fuzzy-Hair to see a fabulous doll created in her likeness. However, Starla was not met by a gaze of pleasantly surprised thankfulness, but gained a shadow of shock and fear from the girl.
Starla's lip twitched into a frown as she pulled the doll back under the table and looked at it herself, not knowing that Hermione had felt a small lost feeling in her gut when the doll was out of sight. It was truly a magnificent show of her own skill and just looking at it made her swell with pride.
In her opinion the doll looked much better than Fuzzy-Hair would ever look. With its cute buttons for eyes and the stitches holding it together, Starla could only guess that Fuzzy-Hair had been jealous of the eternal creation.
Even Starla, herself was jealous at the creation, feeling the demons of envy tugging at her hair. It was such a cruel world in which Starla lived in, one where she could get so close to making something perfect, but was so far away from being perfect.
Starla looked at her reflection in the tableware that had been given out by magic and gazed sorrowfully at the sight of her eyes. They were a most beautiful emerald-green, but they depressed her all the same.
Those beautiful eyes, human eyes, living eyes, reminded her every single time that she was human and not a doll. Starla's sadness fell to irritation at the world and realized that there was a good way to release the amassed frustration. She returned the Fuzzy-Hair doll into her Practitioner Pouch and reached in to grab the Red-Hair doll.
She stared at the creation looking back at her and her irritation increased tenfold. The memories of him mocking her craft and reminding her of all the kids in her school enraged her. She looked at the creation in her hands and repressed the desire to grab the fork on the table and impale the doll with it.
No, the death would have to wait for later, now she would just run simple things. She grabbed one of her pins in her Pouch and positioned it at the doll's butt. She waited for a second, liking the aesthetic feeling of making suspense and them lightly pricked the Red-Hair doll with it.
Starla smiled as she as the noise of someone yelling out in surprise and pain emerged from the crowd. It was drowned out mostly by the other noises, but she and a few others had heard it. She took out the pin and started to prick the doll in tiny little places, using only enough force to make Red-Hair feel like he was being bit by ants. Starla pokes the doll a few more times before letting out a relaxed breath.
Doing things that harm people had always been a good stress reliever for Starla and it seemed it was even better when it came to that Red-Hair. She placed the doll back to where she found it and started eating, now realizing that she was significantly hungry.
Starla had never needed to eat much and her small stature, even among her first year compatriots, spoke of her lack of appetite. She finished her small meal and didn't have to wait long for the rest of the Ravenclaw Students to also finish. She made a passing glance to Fuzzy-Hair once more before walking out the Grand Hall with her peers.
Later that night...
Starla's lip twitched in the dim light of the candles surrounding her as she finished the preparations of the curse she was going to put Fuzzy-Hair. It wasn't bad or evil, an assumption people often made when you said the word curse.
Curses don't have to have a harmful effect to be known as curses, just like the Wizard dark spell 'Avada Kedavra' still being known as a spell in most cases.
Nonetheless, Starla laid down the Fuzzy-Hair doll in the middle of the circle she had made and started chanting. She moved her hands fluidly in the air above the doll and began closing her eyes, giving anyone the belief that she was falling asleep.
Starla concentrated on her inner magic and with the help of her chant and the silence of the silence of the room, was able to caress her magic and make it flow in the manner she needed.
Taking the strand of magic, Starla pushed it upon the doll and then reached down with one her hands to grasp the ingredients around her. She picked up a very small amount of the red dust and slowly scattered it around the doll, before picking up even a smaller amount of silver dust and sprinkling it as well.
Starla took a pause to breathe in deeply before chanting slightly louder, the candles around her getting brighter due to the magic that slipped through the cracks of her chant and gained a slight blueish tint. Starla's chant stopped suddenly, the candles going back to their normal existence and dull lighting.
Starla took a deep breath in exhaustion and thought over what she had done. She had decided during the day of introductions to the school that she would put a courage growth curse onto Fuzzy-Hair and a small attraction curse as well. Where as her curse had made her uncle a social outcast, the small curse she put on Fuzzy-Hair would make so people would consider talking to her more than usual.
The courage growth curse would make it so that Fuzzy-Hair would slowly gain confidence in herself and become less likely to use any facade to hide her insecurity. Yet, Starla had forgotten the exhaustion that came with having to use multiple curses on somebody, but other wise it had been a piece of cake to do it. It had even been quite easy to sneak out of the dorm rooms and use the Ravenclaw Common Room after hours for her ritual.
With all the paintings, something else Starla was going to have to look at closely later, asleep and it being the first day of Hogwarts, Starla was able to escape the risk of getting caught by Professors and Prefects scouring the halls and rooms. This method wouldn't work again this year, so Starla would have to find a place to continue her studies. Starla picked up her ingredients and placed them back into her box of supplies, which then went back into her Pouch. She stood up and slowly made her way up to the Girl Dorm where her bed was crying for her.
She answered the sound of longing with a small yawn, the only thing that gave any evidence that she was tired and in much need of sleep. She berated herself a little for not having the required strength to place a curse on the Red-Hair doll either. As she slipped into the comforting embrace of sleep, Starla had one more bitter thought before being taken over by the tendrils of slumber.
'A doll wouldn't have to sleep.'
A/N: Hello! Thank you for reading! I hope that you enjoy this chapter! Also, I apologies that I didn't get this out sooner, but I had Show Choir Audition practice and a trip to Six Flags for school that took up my strength to get this out any sooner.
I was pooped when I came home yesterday and almost immediately fell asleep. Nonetheless, thank you for gracing this chapter with your gaze.
I didn't know if I wanted to include the Sorting Hat's song, but I realized that it would be great inspiration for Starla to use for later use, so yeah. Also, to be on the safe side, I do not own the Sorting Hat song to any extent what so ever.
Also, I would love it if some of you were to think up some puns for the chapter names, something that you all hopefully noticed. I am a great lover of puns and I would appreciate any that you could think up some so that I won't have to resort to using boring names for my chapters.
I want to end this with a thank you to all the people who have reviewed up to this point like vsama, monaffmona, Leez, riceb0x, RebeliousOne, Elfwyn, yorushihe, sarah-rose76646, and last, but not least, Rain Shigu.