Disclaimer: Hold thy horses and don't get thy knickers in a twist, it's all
ok coz I'm not making any money and I'm not trying to hypnotize you. HARRY
POTTER, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner
Bros. Bloomsbury Books and JK Rowling. So there.
1 Chapter 4
Hermione was determined to get up as early as she could this morning, not only because it was the first day of real lessons, but because she still hadn't managed to do her Head Girl duty and introduce herself to the new French girl. Her plan to approach her in the noisy common room after dinner was foiled by Morwenna slipping through the boisterous crowds and going to bed abnormally early, but she wasn't going to escape so easily this morning.
Never having been much of a morning person, Hermione awoke with a groan and opened one eye. The heavy curtains around her bed were drawn and she felt like she could curl up and sleep in there until the first showers of spring sprinkled against her windowpane. She grudgingly sat up, rubbing her eyes and yawning and wondering what was for breakfast, and pulled back the curtains. It took a moment for her mind to start working at the same speed as her eyes, but she soon noticed that Morwenna's bed was empty, the downy duvet neatly laid out as if no one had slept there at all. The only sign of habitation was a small stuffed toy in the fuzzy, grey shape of a dog, which sat on the large pillow next the sleeping figure of a sleek, black cat.
"Hmm. Why do I get the feeling she's avoiding us?" Thought Hermione as she got dressed. She then decided to try and corner her over breakfast.
"Ok, she's got to be here somewhere," Hermione muttered under her breath, scanning the rows of breakfasting Gryffindors in the Great Hall for a curly head, "Everyone has to eat." Eventually she spotted her target, and with a Head-Girl-glint in her eye, swooped in for the kill.
"Hi! I'm Hermione, Head Girl. I'm also in Gryffindor and I share a room with you. Do you mind if I sit?" She asked in her chirpiest voice.
Morwenna slowly turned to face her cheerful attacker and regarded her for a moment with a frustratingly grave and superior look. At last she said, with the hint of a mocking smile gliding across her perfect lips, "I'd rather you didn't"
For a moment Hermione looked as if a random old granny had just slapped her in the face, but she soon collected herself.
"Oh, right! Well, I'll just go…and sit…somewhere else. Seeya then. Bye." She stumblingly said, and turned on her heel to flounce back to Harry and Ron, who had stationed themselves as far away as possible through an interminable fear of having to actually talk to a pretty girl.
But Hermione was not the kind of girl who gives up without a fight, especially when Dumbledore himself has asked her to befriend the new girl. After Breakfast, Hermione found Morwenna brooding at the back of her Transfiguration class and sat as close as possible, determined to extract some form of conversation out of her by the end of the day.
When Professor McGonagall swept into the class, her eyes instantly fell on Morwenna and a warm smile filled her face. "You don't see that everyday," thought Hermione, surprised to see anything other than a stern frown on her teacher's thin face.
"Welcome, witches and wizards to another year of transfiguration. We have a new student joining us from France today and I hope you will all be friendly to Morwenna Linwood as she learns the ropes."
"Only if she's going to be friendly to us." Hermione said to herself before her teacher continued.
"To ease you in gently to the new school year, we will be practicing our practical application of large-scale transfiguration, concentrating on stationary objects, although you can try to transfigure live creatures if you feel up to it. Although I greatly doubt any of you are." McGonagall said, looking skeptically at each student in her class, pausing pointedly on Neville Longbottom. "In about fifteen minutes we will visit Hagrid in his cabin and attempt to transfigure it into a circus tent."
McGonagall quickly ran through the basics of the spell they would be using (a somewhat complicated flourish of the wand accompanied by an even more confusing spell in an unrecognisable language – possibly Yemeni), and the class trooped across the school grounds in the cool autumn sun to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Clustered round Hagrid's cabin there were some surprising, often amusing displays of magical ineptitude which tended to feature dangerously lopsided red and white striped sheets of canvas, held up by precarious-looking poles from which Hagrid emerged with a baffled Fang at his heels. Morwenna was the only student, including Hermione, who managed to complete the task at hand. Her circus tent came complete with a startled, candy-floss-selling Hagrid and a troop of polished, prancing pixies.
Later on that afternoon, Hermione was curled up in one of the plump armchairs of the Gryffindor common room, reading over her transfiguration notes from the morning's lesson wondering how Professor McGonagall had still failed to realise that you weren't actually supposed to do any form of real work on the first day. No matter how hard she tried to cram information into it, Hermione's brain was beginning to violently repel any form of new thought.
With a sigh she slammed her massive books shut and looked around the common room. It was practically empty as classes were still going on all over the school. Hermione had a free period during the last lesson of a Monday and she had thought the common room would be deserted, but when she entered the quiet room she heard the soft tinkle of bells and knew that Morwenna was in there too.
She now sat in the armchair opposite Hermione's, engrossed in a thick muggle novel. While she read, Hermione studied her petite form and thought that she could possibly be the most beautiful girl she'd ever seen. She had everything Hermione had always wanted – her wild hair was stunning, not bushy; her mysterious eyes sat atop strong and smooth cheekbones and, although she looked intelligent, there was nothing geeky about her. "Yep, she's perfect," Hermione thought with only a touch of resentment, "shame she's such a bitch". With this thought in mind, Hermione was happy for a moment, but her ever-troublesome conscience reminded her that she didn't know for a fact that Morwenna was a bitch, and that she's probably just shy and really nice once you got to know her.
Quietly wondering just how she Morwenna got her hair to behave itself, Hermione was suddenly interrupted by a burst of loud laughter as two familiar, and not entirely welcome, voices battled through the portrait hole. Hermione quickly grabbed a book and pretended to be completely absorbed in it before Parvarti and Lavender tried to force conversation on her. She was just forming a good excuse to escape when the inane giggling hushed and she was unexpectedly relieved of the task.
Hermione looked up to see both Parvarti and Lavender gazing at Morwenna with what can only be described as awe.
"Hi Morwenna," said Lavender with a hopeful smile.
"Yeah, hi" said Parvarti. Morwenna lifted her head and looked at the pair in much the same manner as she had looked at Hermione earlier and continued to say nothing.
"Oh my God! Did we interrupt, coz we just wanted to say hi." Flounced Parvarti.
"Yeah. Oh wow, what are you reading? I just love books, don't you? But, I find them really long sometimes. And they're kinda boring if they haven't got any pictures and stuff. If they had pictures they'd be, like, really popular. But who's gonna read a book if I hasn't got any pictures? Right? Books without pictures are boring, if you ask me."
Hermione was struck by just how intensely stupid her classmates must sound to Morwenna, and she noticed an amused and bemused look sweep across the new girl's face.
"Don't you think that's something of a gross generalisation?" Morwenna said flatly.
"Umm, yeah, I guess so," was her cheerful reply from Lavender, "Well, anyway, we'll seeya around OK. Ciao!"
With that the pair made off in the direction of the bedrooms, undoubtedly to redo their, already perfect, hair. Hermione couldn't help but sympathise with the distinct look of relief that passed over Morwenna's face when the manically perky girls had left. Dark curls fell over Morwenna's cheeks as she lowered her head to resume reading, but through the curtain of glossy tendrils, Hermione could see that Morwenna's eyes were not absorbing the words on the page. She was lost in deep thought and Hermione wondered how she managed to look so sad, yet so alive.
***
Since being given their timetables, the entire Gryffindor Sixth Form had been dreading Tuesday morning. It was unusually cold in the stony corridors as they made their way down into the bowels of the school for Snape's potions lesson.
Harry, Ron and Hermione huddled in the back row of the dungeon and looked around them. Snape was uncharacteristically late – even Neville managed to make it to his seat before he arrived – but Hermione noticed that someone else was missing as well.
"Wonder where Morwenna is." She said to her friends, who had both been searching the class for the pretty new girl.
"Maybe she got lost and strayed into a forbidden room and got speared by a rampaging Erumpent" Ron suggested happily, who had decidedly gone off Morwenna when Hermione told him what happened at breakfast the day before.
"Don't be so mean, she's probably really nice once you get to know her." Said Harry defensively – he was still convinced that no one as good-looking as Morwenna could possibly be as nasty as Ron was making out.
"Stop deluding yourself, Harry. She's a bitch and there's nothing you can do about it. Blythe tried to talk to her yesterday and she just stared at her as if a flobberworm had just tried to introduce itself." Ron said. "Those Beauxbatons girls are all the same. Evil."
"Weird," said Hermione, looking puzzled for a moment, "She went to Beauxbatons, right?"
"Yes"
"Well she doesn't have a French accent. Not even a bit. She sounded like she'd lived in England all her life." The others mirrored Hermione's puzzled expression, until Neville swung round and asked them if they were talking about Morwenna.
"Mmmhmm," they all said.
"Well she's got an English accent because her parents are English. And she's not evil, she's really nice, actually." Neville said, to the surprise of everyone present. He looked remarkably triumphant at knowing something that even Hermione didn't know.
"How do you know?" asked Hermione, wondering how Neville knew something even she didn't know.
"I talked to her last night in the common room. She sounds a bit superior at first, but she's really sweet. She helped me with my transfiguration ho- "
At that point Snape swept in with an extraordinarily vicious snarl twisting his gaunt face. The class hushed and he instantly began to write the ingredients for a Petrification potion on the blackboard. Before he finished, the vast wooden doors of the dungeon slowly creaked open to reveal the hesitant face of Morwenna.
"Professor Snape?" She asked slowly. He said nothing, but looked at her with a very curious expression. The class thought his head was going to explode through anger at a student daring to be this late for his class. But he continued to say nothing.
"I'm really sorry. I got kinda lost on the third floor, then when I went back the stairs had moved and I couldn't get down. I'm really sorry. I'll make up the work after school if you want".
Snape still looked very odd, as if he recognised the girl in his doorway, but couldn't understand what she was doing there. After he recovered, he motioned her to sit down in the only remaining seat – next to Draco Malfoy.
"What's wrong with Snape, he looks like Morwenna just came back from the dead," whispered Ron to his friends, who simply shrugged in reply., "He didn't give her detention or anything. Maybe he's sick."
All the eyes in the class (even those in jars on Snape's desk) watched Morwenna glide to her seat and arrange herself next to Draco. Hermione could see them easily from where she was sitting, and she was suddenly very interested to find out how they got on. After a moment, Draco leaned over and whispered something in Morwenna's ear. Hermione supposed from his countenance that it was some snide, leering comment about a pretty witch like Morwenna being in a muggle-loving house like Gryffindor. Morwenna stopped writing for a moment, looked Draco right in the face with that penetrating stare of hers, then, much to Hermione's surprise, she smiled. Whatever she said to him next made Draco, perhaps for the first time in his life, look almost abashed and an honest smile filled his face. The pair resumed copying the ingredients onto their parchment and Hermione followed suit.
"Hmm…maybe she's not that bad after all." Hermione thought to herself as she absently scribbled down notes, "How does she manage to be friends with Malfoy and Neville at the same time? I have to get to know her better. She actually seems quite cool."
***
"It's not 55 grams, it's 25. If you put in 55 you'd die," Morwenna whispered.
"It says 55," Draco hissed.
"No, it's just his bad handwriting. Trust me, it's 25."
"Why should I trust you? I know the Gryffindors all want me strung up from the Quidditch goals, maybe you're in on it too." Draco said with a playful smile.
"Fine. If you want to become a statue forever and ever then put in 55 grams of Flintroot. Just don't come running to me when they sell you to the museum of stupid wizards who don't listen to their friends".
Draco gave a resigned sigh and started to write again.
"What makes you so knowledgeable anyway? You're almost as bad as Granger," said Draco, nodding in Hermione's direction. Morwenna looked in the direction he indicated and watched Hermione for a moment. She then looked at Draco again.
"She's pretty. Why do you hate her so much?"
"I don't really hate her. She just gets on my nerves with her poncy-arse friends and perfect grades"
"Oh, I see." Said Morwenna with a knowing smirk. Draco looked at her again with apparent confusion.
"What do you "see"?"
"Oh nothing." Morwenna replied, raising a smug eyebrow and smiling some more.
"What!?" questioned Draco, looking slightly more exasperated.
"You're jealous of her".
Draco laughed. "Jealous of her? You've gone mental. Why on earth would I be jealous of that mudblood?"
"You are," Morwenna said, with a teasing grin, "She's got everything you want. She's clever, she's pretty and she's got fantastical, lifelong friends and you're just a lonely, bitter old man."
Draco was about to protest, but he accidentally brushed his hand against Morwenna's and she gave a faint cry of pain and a cloud of distress washed over her pretty face.
"Oh my God, I'm sorry. Did I hurt you, coz I didn't mean to. I didn't touch you that hard, did I? Whatever I did, I'm really sorry."
"No, it's fine, you just surprised me, that's all. Now, shall we get on with making this potion then?" Draco nodded, but he wasn't convinced that she was unhurt. He remembered the look on her face and couldn't understand how he'd hurt her.
At the front of the class, Snape was making notes and deciding what awful essay to give to his least favourite class. But he couldn't help looking up at Morwenna again.
"Remarkable," he muttered under his breath as he gazed at the painfully familiar face.
"Just remarkable."
Phew. That was a long chapter. I everyone feeling knackered now, coz I am. I hope it's ok, coz it's difficult to tell when you're writing it.
Anyway, thanx thanx thanx to those who reviewed, it's really sweet of you all and I really appreciate it. Anyways, I'd better go and do some actual school work now.
Seeya in chapter 5 (if you can be bothered to read it that is. I won't be offended if you don't)
1 Chapter 4
Hermione was determined to get up as early as she could this morning, not only because it was the first day of real lessons, but because she still hadn't managed to do her Head Girl duty and introduce herself to the new French girl. Her plan to approach her in the noisy common room after dinner was foiled by Morwenna slipping through the boisterous crowds and going to bed abnormally early, but she wasn't going to escape so easily this morning.
Never having been much of a morning person, Hermione awoke with a groan and opened one eye. The heavy curtains around her bed were drawn and she felt like she could curl up and sleep in there until the first showers of spring sprinkled against her windowpane. She grudgingly sat up, rubbing her eyes and yawning and wondering what was for breakfast, and pulled back the curtains. It took a moment for her mind to start working at the same speed as her eyes, but she soon noticed that Morwenna's bed was empty, the downy duvet neatly laid out as if no one had slept there at all. The only sign of habitation was a small stuffed toy in the fuzzy, grey shape of a dog, which sat on the large pillow next the sleeping figure of a sleek, black cat.
"Hmm. Why do I get the feeling she's avoiding us?" Thought Hermione as she got dressed. She then decided to try and corner her over breakfast.
"Ok, she's got to be here somewhere," Hermione muttered under her breath, scanning the rows of breakfasting Gryffindors in the Great Hall for a curly head, "Everyone has to eat." Eventually she spotted her target, and with a Head-Girl-glint in her eye, swooped in for the kill.
"Hi! I'm Hermione, Head Girl. I'm also in Gryffindor and I share a room with you. Do you mind if I sit?" She asked in her chirpiest voice.
Morwenna slowly turned to face her cheerful attacker and regarded her for a moment with a frustratingly grave and superior look. At last she said, with the hint of a mocking smile gliding across her perfect lips, "I'd rather you didn't"
For a moment Hermione looked as if a random old granny had just slapped her in the face, but she soon collected herself.
"Oh, right! Well, I'll just go…and sit…somewhere else. Seeya then. Bye." She stumblingly said, and turned on her heel to flounce back to Harry and Ron, who had stationed themselves as far away as possible through an interminable fear of having to actually talk to a pretty girl.
But Hermione was not the kind of girl who gives up without a fight, especially when Dumbledore himself has asked her to befriend the new girl. After Breakfast, Hermione found Morwenna brooding at the back of her Transfiguration class and sat as close as possible, determined to extract some form of conversation out of her by the end of the day.
When Professor McGonagall swept into the class, her eyes instantly fell on Morwenna and a warm smile filled her face. "You don't see that everyday," thought Hermione, surprised to see anything other than a stern frown on her teacher's thin face.
"Welcome, witches and wizards to another year of transfiguration. We have a new student joining us from France today and I hope you will all be friendly to Morwenna Linwood as she learns the ropes."
"Only if she's going to be friendly to us." Hermione said to herself before her teacher continued.
"To ease you in gently to the new school year, we will be practicing our practical application of large-scale transfiguration, concentrating on stationary objects, although you can try to transfigure live creatures if you feel up to it. Although I greatly doubt any of you are." McGonagall said, looking skeptically at each student in her class, pausing pointedly on Neville Longbottom. "In about fifteen minutes we will visit Hagrid in his cabin and attempt to transfigure it into a circus tent."
McGonagall quickly ran through the basics of the spell they would be using (a somewhat complicated flourish of the wand accompanied by an even more confusing spell in an unrecognisable language – possibly Yemeni), and the class trooped across the school grounds in the cool autumn sun to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Clustered round Hagrid's cabin there were some surprising, often amusing displays of magical ineptitude which tended to feature dangerously lopsided red and white striped sheets of canvas, held up by precarious-looking poles from which Hagrid emerged with a baffled Fang at his heels. Morwenna was the only student, including Hermione, who managed to complete the task at hand. Her circus tent came complete with a startled, candy-floss-selling Hagrid and a troop of polished, prancing pixies.
Later on that afternoon, Hermione was curled up in one of the plump armchairs of the Gryffindor common room, reading over her transfiguration notes from the morning's lesson wondering how Professor McGonagall had still failed to realise that you weren't actually supposed to do any form of real work on the first day. No matter how hard she tried to cram information into it, Hermione's brain was beginning to violently repel any form of new thought.
With a sigh she slammed her massive books shut and looked around the common room. It was practically empty as classes were still going on all over the school. Hermione had a free period during the last lesson of a Monday and she had thought the common room would be deserted, but when she entered the quiet room she heard the soft tinkle of bells and knew that Morwenna was in there too.
She now sat in the armchair opposite Hermione's, engrossed in a thick muggle novel. While she read, Hermione studied her petite form and thought that she could possibly be the most beautiful girl she'd ever seen. She had everything Hermione had always wanted – her wild hair was stunning, not bushy; her mysterious eyes sat atop strong and smooth cheekbones and, although she looked intelligent, there was nothing geeky about her. "Yep, she's perfect," Hermione thought with only a touch of resentment, "shame she's such a bitch". With this thought in mind, Hermione was happy for a moment, but her ever-troublesome conscience reminded her that she didn't know for a fact that Morwenna was a bitch, and that she's probably just shy and really nice once you got to know her.
Quietly wondering just how she Morwenna got her hair to behave itself, Hermione was suddenly interrupted by a burst of loud laughter as two familiar, and not entirely welcome, voices battled through the portrait hole. Hermione quickly grabbed a book and pretended to be completely absorbed in it before Parvarti and Lavender tried to force conversation on her. She was just forming a good excuse to escape when the inane giggling hushed and she was unexpectedly relieved of the task.
Hermione looked up to see both Parvarti and Lavender gazing at Morwenna with what can only be described as awe.
"Hi Morwenna," said Lavender with a hopeful smile.
"Yeah, hi" said Parvarti. Morwenna lifted her head and looked at the pair in much the same manner as she had looked at Hermione earlier and continued to say nothing.
"Oh my God! Did we interrupt, coz we just wanted to say hi." Flounced Parvarti.
"Yeah. Oh wow, what are you reading? I just love books, don't you? But, I find them really long sometimes. And they're kinda boring if they haven't got any pictures and stuff. If they had pictures they'd be, like, really popular. But who's gonna read a book if I hasn't got any pictures? Right? Books without pictures are boring, if you ask me."
Hermione was struck by just how intensely stupid her classmates must sound to Morwenna, and she noticed an amused and bemused look sweep across the new girl's face.
"Don't you think that's something of a gross generalisation?" Morwenna said flatly.
"Umm, yeah, I guess so," was her cheerful reply from Lavender, "Well, anyway, we'll seeya around OK. Ciao!"
With that the pair made off in the direction of the bedrooms, undoubtedly to redo their, already perfect, hair. Hermione couldn't help but sympathise with the distinct look of relief that passed over Morwenna's face when the manically perky girls had left. Dark curls fell over Morwenna's cheeks as she lowered her head to resume reading, but through the curtain of glossy tendrils, Hermione could see that Morwenna's eyes were not absorbing the words on the page. She was lost in deep thought and Hermione wondered how she managed to look so sad, yet so alive.
***
Since being given their timetables, the entire Gryffindor Sixth Form had been dreading Tuesday morning. It was unusually cold in the stony corridors as they made their way down into the bowels of the school for Snape's potions lesson.
Harry, Ron and Hermione huddled in the back row of the dungeon and looked around them. Snape was uncharacteristically late – even Neville managed to make it to his seat before he arrived – but Hermione noticed that someone else was missing as well.
"Wonder where Morwenna is." She said to her friends, who had both been searching the class for the pretty new girl.
"Maybe she got lost and strayed into a forbidden room and got speared by a rampaging Erumpent" Ron suggested happily, who had decidedly gone off Morwenna when Hermione told him what happened at breakfast the day before.
"Don't be so mean, she's probably really nice once you get to know her." Said Harry defensively – he was still convinced that no one as good-looking as Morwenna could possibly be as nasty as Ron was making out.
"Stop deluding yourself, Harry. She's a bitch and there's nothing you can do about it. Blythe tried to talk to her yesterday and she just stared at her as if a flobberworm had just tried to introduce itself." Ron said. "Those Beauxbatons girls are all the same. Evil."
"Weird," said Hermione, looking puzzled for a moment, "She went to Beauxbatons, right?"
"Yes"
"Well she doesn't have a French accent. Not even a bit. She sounded like she'd lived in England all her life." The others mirrored Hermione's puzzled expression, until Neville swung round and asked them if they were talking about Morwenna.
"Mmmhmm," they all said.
"Well she's got an English accent because her parents are English. And she's not evil, she's really nice, actually." Neville said, to the surprise of everyone present. He looked remarkably triumphant at knowing something that even Hermione didn't know.
"How do you know?" asked Hermione, wondering how Neville knew something even she didn't know.
"I talked to her last night in the common room. She sounds a bit superior at first, but she's really sweet. She helped me with my transfiguration ho- "
At that point Snape swept in with an extraordinarily vicious snarl twisting his gaunt face. The class hushed and he instantly began to write the ingredients for a Petrification potion on the blackboard. Before he finished, the vast wooden doors of the dungeon slowly creaked open to reveal the hesitant face of Morwenna.
"Professor Snape?" She asked slowly. He said nothing, but looked at her with a very curious expression. The class thought his head was going to explode through anger at a student daring to be this late for his class. But he continued to say nothing.
"I'm really sorry. I got kinda lost on the third floor, then when I went back the stairs had moved and I couldn't get down. I'm really sorry. I'll make up the work after school if you want".
Snape still looked very odd, as if he recognised the girl in his doorway, but couldn't understand what she was doing there. After he recovered, he motioned her to sit down in the only remaining seat – next to Draco Malfoy.
"What's wrong with Snape, he looks like Morwenna just came back from the dead," whispered Ron to his friends, who simply shrugged in reply., "He didn't give her detention or anything. Maybe he's sick."
All the eyes in the class (even those in jars on Snape's desk) watched Morwenna glide to her seat and arrange herself next to Draco. Hermione could see them easily from where she was sitting, and she was suddenly very interested to find out how they got on. After a moment, Draco leaned over and whispered something in Morwenna's ear. Hermione supposed from his countenance that it was some snide, leering comment about a pretty witch like Morwenna being in a muggle-loving house like Gryffindor. Morwenna stopped writing for a moment, looked Draco right in the face with that penetrating stare of hers, then, much to Hermione's surprise, she smiled. Whatever she said to him next made Draco, perhaps for the first time in his life, look almost abashed and an honest smile filled his face. The pair resumed copying the ingredients onto their parchment and Hermione followed suit.
"Hmm…maybe she's not that bad after all." Hermione thought to herself as she absently scribbled down notes, "How does she manage to be friends with Malfoy and Neville at the same time? I have to get to know her better. She actually seems quite cool."
***
"It's not 55 grams, it's 25. If you put in 55 you'd die," Morwenna whispered.
"It says 55," Draco hissed.
"No, it's just his bad handwriting. Trust me, it's 25."
"Why should I trust you? I know the Gryffindors all want me strung up from the Quidditch goals, maybe you're in on it too." Draco said with a playful smile.
"Fine. If you want to become a statue forever and ever then put in 55 grams of Flintroot. Just don't come running to me when they sell you to the museum of stupid wizards who don't listen to their friends".
Draco gave a resigned sigh and started to write again.
"What makes you so knowledgeable anyway? You're almost as bad as Granger," said Draco, nodding in Hermione's direction. Morwenna looked in the direction he indicated and watched Hermione for a moment. She then looked at Draco again.
"She's pretty. Why do you hate her so much?"
"I don't really hate her. She just gets on my nerves with her poncy-arse friends and perfect grades"
"Oh, I see." Said Morwenna with a knowing smirk. Draco looked at her again with apparent confusion.
"What do you "see"?"
"Oh nothing." Morwenna replied, raising a smug eyebrow and smiling some more.
"What!?" questioned Draco, looking slightly more exasperated.
"You're jealous of her".
Draco laughed. "Jealous of her? You've gone mental. Why on earth would I be jealous of that mudblood?"
"You are," Morwenna said, with a teasing grin, "She's got everything you want. She's clever, she's pretty and she's got fantastical, lifelong friends and you're just a lonely, bitter old man."
Draco was about to protest, but he accidentally brushed his hand against Morwenna's and she gave a faint cry of pain and a cloud of distress washed over her pretty face.
"Oh my God, I'm sorry. Did I hurt you, coz I didn't mean to. I didn't touch you that hard, did I? Whatever I did, I'm really sorry."
"No, it's fine, you just surprised me, that's all. Now, shall we get on with making this potion then?" Draco nodded, but he wasn't convinced that she was unhurt. He remembered the look on her face and couldn't understand how he'd hurt her.
At the front of the class, Snape was making notes and deciding what awful essay to give to his least favourite class. But he couldn't help looking up at Morwenna again.
"Remarkable," he muttered under his breath as he gazed at the painfully familiar face.
"Just remarkable."
Phew. That was a long chapter. I everyone feeling knackered now, coz I am. I hope it's ok, coz it's difficult to tell when you're writing it.
Anyway, thanx thanx thanx to those who reviewed, it's really sweet of you all and I really appreciate it. Anyways, I'd better go and do some actual school work now.
Seeya in chapter 5 (if you can be bothered to read it that is. I won't be offended if you don't)