"Wow Smith, you really look like shit," a cruelly amused voice crows from my left. I don't even turn my head to acknowledge the speaker. I know who it is without looking, and without the annoyed fist that thumps onto the table on my right."Mark just get lost. Leave him alone for once," Sarah's annoyed voice retorts.
"C'mon Sarah, why are you hanging out with this half-dead loser? Merlin, what happened to you? You used to be so much fun. You used to be cool." The Slytherin's taunting tone probably wasn't intended to draw such a dramatic response. I'm sick of this idiot. I pull out my wand threateningly, with no real intention of using it. He doesn't take the hint, and maintains his superior sneer as he watches me stand up. Sarah makes no move to stop me, still fuming.
"Don't talk to her like that. Don't talk to me like that. I'm sick of this, James. Just go away." I reinforce my words by pushing him backwards firmly. He stumbles a few steps, his sneer wobbling before once again fixing onto his face. His friends chuckle to each other. He steps forwards and starts shoving me back.
At this moment Professor McGonagall reenters the classroom, looking slightly unsettled. That expression is quickly removed from her features as she sees the standoff happening in the middle of her class.
"Mr James! Mr Smith! What is going on here?!"
"Professor! He just came up to me and started attacking me! I was trying to get away from him. He's crazy! It was frightening. He seems like such a nice guy, and he just snapped -" Mark's face contorts in a way I've never seen it, scared and victimised. I raise my eyebrows in disgust and disbelief.
"Don't give me any of that, James. I can guess at exactly who started this little encounter," McGonagall snaps at the Slytherin. He drops his facade, leaving him just looking pissed off. "Ten points from Slytherin and five from Hufflepuff. Back to your seats." She continues to the front of the classroom, Mark James gaping and glaring behind her. The silence of the rest of the students is slowly broken by a few whispers, building gradually until the room has reached its normal volume again.
I collapse back into my seat and lay my head on the table, exhausted enough to nearly go to sleep in my uncomfortable position. I've been getting nearly no sleep lately, constantly waking from vague nightmares where the details all drift away, just leaving me with a sense of terror and pain.
On top of that, I haven't heard from Henri in over a week, which is starting to make me worried. I also haven't managed to talk to Maggie yet, which is another source of unsettling worry. Admittedly, it's only been a week since Hallowe'en, but we've had Potions together twice already and every time I move towards her, she takes off in another direction.
I sigh and try to focus on the class, letting most of the information wash over me until Sarah nudges me for the practical aspect. I'm still holding my wand absently from having not used it on Mark James. It takes half a minute for me to grasp what we're doing and follow the instructions on the blackboard. As the lethargic mice disappear from their box at the front of the class and reappear in front of us, I can feel James' furious gaze on me and I turn to meet his eyes. He sneers and turns back to his mouse.
The rest of the day is consumed by half-hearted attempts at my school work and a brief nap during History of Magic - one which is blissfully dreamless. I spend the few hours before dinner on the castle grounds with Sam.
"Where's your dad, Sam?" I ask him quietly. Sam freezes for a few seconds before continuing to trudge through the snow at a somewhat slower pace. I don't turn to face him, but I can feel his eyes trying to assess me for something.
"He's been missing for 4 years," he says hesitantly. I look at him now, curious and concerned about him. It's obviously had a big impact on him and his life. He takes off his oversized glasses and regards them sadly.
"He went to the store one day and never came back. They found his truck empty, and his glasses on the street beside it. No one knows what happened to him." He wipes a gloves finger over one of the lenses. Shaking himself out of his memories, he quickly puts them back on and urges me forward. His smile is strained now, and I hope I haven't damaged our friendship.
"So, do you believe in aliens?" He asks in a cheery voice. I stare at him for a second before I accept his change in topic.
"I think it's possible. Just think about all those stars out there in our galaxy alone, and all the planets around them. We can't be the only one with life. The chances of that are pretty slim. Do you?"
"Yeah. Back with my mum, I got these magazines that had all sorts of alien stuff in it. I figure, if magic exists despite being fictional, why not aliens too? They have to." There's an edge of desperation to his voice. I don't press him about it.
Fighting my exhaustion, I suddenly stoop and scoop up a handful of snow from the ground, moulding it into a ball before throwing it at Sam. He'd caught onto my intentions and started running, but he isn't fast enough. A white circle appears on his shoulder and he grasps it dramatically with a cry, groaning as he drops to his knees and then to his face in the snow.
He lays there for a few seconds, and I start to wonder if he wasn't being dramatic and I underestimated the strength of my throw.
"Sam?" I start towards him, worry digging claws into my mind. I'm about two feet away when he rolls over and hurls two handfuls of snow at me from his horizontal position. I shriek and back up, and we dissolve into a blissfully mindless snow fight.
When it comes time for dinner, we're both shivering and damp, but in good spirits. The laughter seems to have chased away my exhaustion temporarily - a good thing, as the castle's spelled entrance warms us up and dries our clothes. I probably would have fallen asleep right there.
We wind our way to the Hufflepuff table, where a few of my housemates are already sat. Sarah glances at us and waves from her position at the Ravenclaw table with Emily before going back to her conversation. Someone jostles me from behind, hard enough to send me stumbling into the chairs in front of me. I turn and see Mark James walking away. I glare after him as Sam and I take a seat. He heads across to the Ravenclaw table and slides into the empty seat beside Sarah.
I start to rise, eyes fixed on the two of them, but Sarah seems to be handling herself alright if James' expression is anything to go by. Initially smug, he looks a lot more irritated now. He sends a scowl towards me before passing Sarah a piece of parchment. She doesn't even bother looking at it before she slides it back to him.
I settle back into my seat but continue to watch the exchange, ready to intervene if he so much as looked at her wrong. When James finally gets up and stalks away, I relax all the way and start to look at the food on the table that Sam has already helped himself to. I fill a plate and pick at it, my cheerful mood from before lying in smouldering ruins.
"What just happened between Sarah and that Slytherin?" Sam asks me around a mouthful of pasta.
"I don't think it was anything good, but it didn't go the way he planned." I offer a brief smile at him. "He's got a crazy obsession with her, from what I know. They knew each other through their families before they started school or something." I haven't finished speaking when Sam's head suddenly jerks forward and a red splatter covers my face, accompanied by a wet thump. Sam lifts his hand up to his head and pulls at the bits of meat and sauce stuck in his hair and another meatball comes flying and collides with my neck.
A cry starts up from the Gryffindor table and a couple of girls stand from the Ravenclaw table. I don't care about either of them. I'm sick of this, of James and his bullying - because that's undoubtedly the person responsible for the food attack.
I kick my chair back so hard it nearly falls over. Sam tries to grab me, to stop me. "John! Don't!"
I brush him off and stalk over to where Mark James is sitting at the Slytherin table, lounging back in his chair and looking pleased with himself. Draco Malfoy is a couple of seats down, also smirking. Both boys' assorted groups of henchmen are positioned around them casually, occupying the seats around them or standing, looming over them. I don't care.
"You got a problem?" A red-headed boy asks.
"Not with you, yet," I say, eyes fixed on James behind him.
"You gotta go through me to get to him," he says.
"I will if you don't move," I threaten, finally switching my gaze to him. He's taller than me but that doesn't matter much to me.
"I don't think you can. Even a Gryffindor wouldn't have to guts to. What's a Hufflepuff gonna to do to me?" He sneers. I'll give James a bit of credit; his henchmen aren't as stupid as Malfoy's. That's not to say they still aren't stupid. But at least they can form coherent sentences.
I bring my knee up into his crotch and he doubles over. The Great Hall gives a collective gasp. His face starts to resemble the colour of his hair.
"I warned you," I grit out, stepping around him and heading straight for James. Malfoy's face behind him is stoney. Peripherally I register his slow movements to retrieve his wand, but my main focus is James, whose smug smirk looks a little strained now. Another boy tries to stand in front of me, but after a glare he backs down. James is getting more tense. He pulls himself out of his chair as I get close and tries to adopt a carefree stance but doesn't quite pull it off.
I'm just within reach of him when someone grabs me from behind. I swing around, hands in fists, but manage to stop myself in time to avoid punching the sour-faced Potions Master.
"That, is enough, Mr Smith," he practically growls.
"Look what he just did to Kevin, Professor!" James exclaims, indicating the red boy on the ground holding himself. Sam suddenly appears, Sarah in tow. In the gathering crowd, the first year Gryffindors push their way to the front to surround Sam. Professor McGonagall steps up behind Snape. James' weepy expression turns to a scowl as she levels him with an icy stare. Snape sneers and grasps the young Slytherin by the collar, though he's a lot gentler than he was with me.
"Don't think I didn't see those meatballs. 20 points from Slytherin, and I'm sure Severus has a detention task or two in store for you." Shifting her gaze from James to me, she continues, "And 20 points from Hufflepuff, Smith. We do not tolerate violence of any nature on school grounds. Make sure it doesn't happen again."
"Everyone not in Slytherin, kindly return to your house tables. The excitement is over." With that final stern announcement, McGonagall strode back up to the staff table.
"Get. Moving." The sneer sends a shiver down my spine as the Potions Master straightens and shoves me away from himself. Hopefully he got some bolognese sauce on that big nose of his while he was busy breathing down my neck. As I'm walking off, Snape releases the grip he had on James' collar, again with less force.
Sam and Sarah are waiting for me just past the Slytherin table. Sam's been trying to remove the mess from his hair unsuccessfully. Sarah asks if we're okay, and we both nod glumly. Lunch effectively ruined, Sam and I head off to find a bathroom to wash away the sacrificed food, leaving Sarah gazing after us worriedly.
A/N: Hhhheeeeey guys, I'm not actually dead. Surpriisseee... I'm hoping this is a starting point rather than a hi and bye... but there is a possibility that's the case. What can I say, I'm not a commitments kinda gal.
