Chapter 4 – Headmistresses and Squibs
Harry was sat on the only bench in Stonewall High's small concrete playground. He had fled his Geography class as soon as the teacher dismissed them so he could get peace and quiet. Harry was very intelligent for his age, which became clear to all the other students and teachers during his Maths class. Not only did a few girls corner him after class flirting with him because of his brains and his 'nerve to wear a ripped uniform,' but the teacher had had a word with him too. He had asked Harry why he wasn't in a private school, and Harry had to explain his situation without causing them to look into his life at his Aunt and Uncle's house. The last time he told on his 'family,' they had denied mistreatment and treated Harry like Dudley whenever a teacher of the school was around, and gave him severe punishments afterwards. He did not want to go through that situation again.
Harry's heart stopped when he saw the thickset boy and his gang marching directly towards him, looks of malice on their faces. He hastily stood up from his bench and walked briskly in the other direction, trying not to cause too much attention. Unfortunately this didn't work, as the boy's gang all had longer legs than Harry and threw him on the floor. But this time, it hurt.
He let out a small cry of pain before the boy started to kick him. After the fourth kick he knelt down by Harry, right by his face.
"We haven't been properly introduced." He sneered. "Mark Jacobson. Remember that name. I will make sure that it will be the bane of your existence." He stood up, kicked him one more time, and left the scene, his cronies laughing and spitting.
"Harry? What are you doing down there?" Harry craned his neck around to see Mrs. Kebadse leaning over him. She lacked concern in her eyes, and just stared down at Harry with a slight frown.
"I got pushed over." Harry murmured to the concrete. The teacher just helped him up.
"That's a nasty graze on your knee! Did you trip over?" Mrs Kebadse said in a patronising tone, obviously oblivious to Harry's first comment. Harry frowned at her.
"A third year boy and his gang- Mark Jacobson, I think- Just bullied me." Harry decided to be blunt about it, as she ignored Harry's first attempt. His teacher continued to frown at him.
"Now, Harry, lying is against the school rules and you know that. I went over them this morning. Mark Jacobson's family are very well respected and would do no such thing." Mrs. Kebadse did her signature pause to glare at Harry. "Follow me to the Headmistress' office. We need to discuss this with her." Before Harry could react, she turned around and walked to the Head's office.
Harry gingerly pushed open the door. Inside was a large office, devoid of furniture beside the desk and two chairs. There was a synthetic plant beside her desk, and there was white wallpaper surrounding the entire room and a white carpet. The room was incredibly bland.
Behind the desk sat the Headmistress. She was quite large for a women, and her thickset features reminded Harry of the last person he wanted to think about. She wore a black dress and a red cardigan, and her nails were also painted red. This was the only colour in the room. To his horror, the small silver plate attached to the front of the desk read 'KL. Jacobson.'
She looked up at Harry for a moment before adjusting her seating position on her black leather armchair so she was sitting upright. She gestured at the rickety wooden chair on the opposite side of her desk and Harry plopped himself down onto it, causing the chair to creak loudly. Every time Harry moved, the chair would rock back and forth on the chair legs.
Mrs. Jacobson scrutinised Harry for a long moment before finally leaning forward, her chin resting on her hands, her elbows on the desk.
"So," she started, "I hear that you accused my Grandson of bullying."
Grandson? This woman looked younger than Aunt Petunia!
"This accusation is serious, and I will have to give you a severe punishment for it!" She snarled. She started to glare at Harry expectantly. Harry almost hung his head and let himself be punished, as that was what he was taught to do, but he felt angry. Very angry.
Harry's hands curled into fists. How dare she accuse him of lying when the proof was sitting in front of her! Harry hated her blatant favouritism!
He felt a large spike of bravery he had never had in his life. This encouraged him to lift his chin up defiantly.
"Your grandson is a bully. He kicked me in the side five times as hard as he could; look!" Harry told her. As soon as he finished, an alien feeling passed through his body, and he noticed that his words echoed loudly through the room. The Headmistress blinked and, as if in a trance, nodded.
"I will speak to Mark." She said monotonously. "Let me see?" She asked. He lifted up his shirt to reveal dark purple, foot shaped splotches. Any normal person would have gasped, winced or any kind of reaction, but Mrs. Jacobson simply nodded slowly. "Mrs. Kebadse will escort you to the Matron's office." She said, in a calm, slow tone. Then she picked up her paperwork from her drawer, paused for a couple of seconds then started blinking rapidly.
"Mrs. Ja- Headmistress. Are you alright?" Harry asked tentatively. She didn't respond.
After a few moments, she stopped blinking and her paperwork continued its journey from the drawer to the desk.
"Well? Off you go then! I don't have much time you know!" She snapped, her calm demeanour changing to one of anger. Harry's facial expression moulded into one of shock, then nodded numbly. He left the room quickly, following Mrs. Kebadse to the Matron's office.
"When is your detention?" She asked. Harry stiffened.
He was in for it.
"Well… ya see… I don't have one." Harry said timidly, waiting for Hurricane Kebadse.
"What do you mean, 'You don't have one?'" She said, her voice lowering dangerously. Harry paled.
"She said… that she would speak to Mark… and um… asked to see the bruising. I showed her my side and she let me off." Harry replied. He averted his eyes, feeling incredibly uncomfortable under his teacher's gaze. She said nothing for a very long time.
"Very well. I will talk to the Headmistress." She said, then walked away briskly. Harry let out a ling sigh of relief.
"Get out of my way, you filthy squib!" Marcus Flint yelled at Maisie, pushing her to the floor. She sighed; there was no way in convincing her brother that she was exactly the same as him, but with a malfunctioning magical core. Maisie felt disgusted that she used to look down on those without magic. That was what she was taught all her life.
She was told that Muggles were animals, and had tainted blood, and the Muggleborns stole the magic. Mudbloods.
She hesitated before knocking on her father's door. When she failed to show signs of accidental magic, her family had tried to do everything to force signs out of her. She nearly died. Her family had started to act shifty. When she failed to receive her Hogwarts letter, they had completely flipped out of control. That was the final straw. She was kicked out of her room, and made to go into the attic, where there were doxies. Her family didn't care. She could no longer give orders to the house elves (Who now started calling her names, on the orders of her brother) and was sent to a cheap Muggle school in an awful area of Surrey, in a second hand uniform. Maisie wondered if it could get worse.
That was when she met Harry Potter.
To her immense surprise, his clothes were no worse than hers.
She had walked into the classroom, and scanned the room. And saw this scrawny boy in horrid uniform. He seemed to be compressing a relived smile when he looked at her, and she wasn't surprised. Maisie smiled back, but the smile faltered when she saw that he was sitting on the desk. All the mean looking people in the class were doing that.
She sat next to him anyway. He looked like he needed a friend.
When the teacher walked in, he shot into his seat and blushed. She almost laughed; he obviously wasn't used to it. And then the register came, She answered "Yes Miss" to Maisie Flint, and then… Harry Potter.
Harry Potter? The Boy-Who-Lived? Hand me downs? MUGGLE SCHOOL?
Maisie checked to see if it was the same Harry Potter, as Harry was quite a common Muggle name, and the surname Potter was definitely not unheard of in the Muggle world. But there I was. A thin, lightning bolt shaped scar, sat proudly on his forehead. He looked confused when I looked at him, as if he didn't know how she knew about the scar.
Maisie may be a squib, but she was still from a Slytherin-raised family. She was cunning enough to work out what was going on. He could have been a squib like her, but there was no way that he would have survived the killing curse without magic. So that meant that he was never told about his heritage, hence the confused look, and his Hogwarts letter had been hidden. But she needed to make sure.
Maisie asked him certain questions, and got valid answers. His Muggle relatives (They were obviously Muggle if he had his letters stopped) had wanted him to live like them.
She hesitated before knocking on her father's door. Every time she came near him, he fingered his wand, and she swore that she once him mouthing "Avada Kedavra" at her. But this was necessary.
She knocked.
"Come on." Her father's deep voice sounded. She opened the door, and her father scowled when he saw her. "Get out Maisie."
"No, dad this is important..."
"I said, GET OUT."
"Harry Potter goes to my school!" Maisie cried. Her father studied her for a bit, probably using Legilimency.
"I see. Tell me all about it." Maisie nodded, and told him everything.
Sorry about the wait, Chapter 5 will be out at some point between Saturday 10th and Tuesday 13th October.
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