Mudblood

Whispers floated around as a woman walked in. She wasn't one of the teachers nor a parent. There was something motherly and loving about her. She came in with three other girls. They looked that it was the last place on earth that they wanted. My manager walked right behind them.

"Drug addict," said the girl of Native American descent

"Peppy cheerleader," I remarked seeing her outfit complete with a pair of pom-pom hanging limp.

"GIRL'S NO," shouted Mr Moran

"We hate each other not going to work," said the African

"I agree," said the Australian

"Stop being idiots," said the woman sharply

"But Aunt Mia..."

"No buts Bianca, you're all going to make this work now I need to talk to Nerrel," said the woman, Mia

She lectured me about my unacceptable marks. When I claimed that I was stupid she brought out my earlier report with A symbols against maths, physics, chemistry, biology and accounting. How did she get her hands on it?

"Would you care to explain this," she asked

"I like those subjects they're about logic and orderly thinking. They aren't like magic," I stated

"Well you could say that. Think of it this way potions is like chemistry. Transfiguration and physics go together. Do we have to compare math and arithmacy," said Mia making me see sense.

"I hate magic. I hate that I have to go to Hogwarts," I told her

"Why do you hate magic so much?" she asked

"Everything bad seems to happen because of it," I said plainly

"It's part of you and don't you take it away from yourself," she was strong on it

"How do know so much about me?"

"I'm a legimans,"

"What's that?"

"In simple terms a mind reader," she told me

She took hold of my shoulders and led me out. Reg was hiding something quickly, and then looked at me in guilt. The three other girls spread themselves out on the other house tables. I held out my hand to Reg.

He was right to hide it away. My mp3 had burned out. He was dead. All favourite songs were on there. Three years of work down the drain.

By now, Hogwarts had gotten used to my outbursts.

"THREE YEAR'S OF WORK. YOU FLUSHED THREE YEAR'S OF WORK DOWN THE DRAIN," I went hysterics

He ignored me. Probably the rumours about his mother were true. I started breathing to control my temper.

"Thank you,' Reg said

I growled in frustration. The way most Slytherins could be so calm frustrated me. They thought that they were above rules. I broke pieces of bread off. Trying to keep my emotions in check. A soft rustle of wings as David's Star landed on my shoulder.

His soft gold like feathers soothed me. All the animals had died except him. In ways, we shared survivor's guilt. He nipped pieces of cut up steak off the plate. I couldn't find the courage to shoo him away. I left my plate still half full.

"How could you waste food," the African chick asked from the Gryffindor table

"What?"

"How could you waste food? Do you know how many hungry people are out there," she went on

"So"

"Many of them live below the bread line. Most families can barely make a solid meal a day. There you are wasting food. Food that could have fed them," she looked expectantly

"Wow, I'm in tears," I said sarcastically

"It's not a joke. You've never been somewhere that you see children with limbs like match sticks. Have you?"

"No"

"Well I come from a country like that, where my brothers and I are the lucky ones. So next time don't do that, please," she said

"I never got your name,"

"Sahara, passion for long distance running and R&B. You?"

"Isabell and I'm the classical musician,"

"Bianca, the rock and roll girl," said the girl from the Ravenclaw table still in her cheer leading outfit.

"And lastly, me, Irma and you guessed it I'm the country singer," she called out from the Hufflepuff table

"Don't you just hate the name Haven?" Bianca asked

"It makes us sound old," I said

"Well you are prehistoric," Sahara retorted

"Mudblood," said Irma

"What our blood is just as pure as yours," said the indignant Sahara

"No, I'm one too. So I thought it would be a good name," explained Irma

"Well we can all relate to it. I guess?" said Bianca

"All in favour of Mudblood," asked Mr Moran

We all eagerly nodded. Mr Moran looked relieved. He must have set us up. That man had intuition of a woman. Maybe just maybe this might work.


A week later Bell was sorting through a giant contract. The activity was very boring. Hell, she missed Luca who did all the legal work. The lawyers were going to go through it with her when she got back for Easter holidays.

Isabell's favourite holidays had to be Easter. Lent was not the best but everything else was wonderful. Hope filled with the warm baking smells making everyone hungry.

This year she would spend it alone in a pent house apartment. She hadn't seen it yet but knew one thing. It was going to be empty.

I hated reading through contracts but it was important. Since my little talk with Aunt Mia who I learned was a member of the American Ministry of Magic I started to apply myself better at school. Except Divination, the dumb subject was awful. Most of my time spent making up dumb stories about dreams, tea leaves or what I saw on Reg's palm.

I nearly forgot I have to see 'he who must not be named'. That man would be graced with my surly presence in the beginning of the holidays. Sometimes I wonder if there is any good in him. I doubt it, he is what the reverend would call a demon man. Still maybe there is good but a part of me has stopped believing in it.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Exams all week so at least school and exams are over. Big thank you to my faithful reviewer, The Amendable Snow Freak. Maybe in the course of this week I'll release a new story "Mark Blackbird." Look out for it.