Chapter 19 – The Other Girl

Lydia and Freddie packed their trunks on the Tuesday at the end of their holidays. Ambrose brought Xander back in the afternoon, this time catching a lift with a friend who was leaving on a trip to the Lake District. He remained to see the youngsters off to school. This was so that he could stay for tea. It was also because Catherine had agreed to give him a lift home, once Lydia and Freddie had returned to Hogwarts.

The children hugged the adults in farewell. They sat on their trunks with Xander as before, and used the portkey (a broken cupboard door handle). They appeared in McGonagall's office. It was only five past seven in the evening. Lydia had not wanted to make McGonagall wait too long for them.

The Headteacher looked up from her paperwork. "Ah. Miss Ward, Mr Fortescue, Mr Puss. Thank you for your early arrival. You have a day before most of your colleagues return. You might wish to use that time to finish any homework you have."

"All done, Professor," Freddie grinned. "We'd finished it by Easter Sunday."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Well done, Mr Fortescue. Most uncharacteristic."

"Lydia forced me to do it," he admitted.

The headteacher pursed her lips to repress what might have become a smile.

"Well done, Miss Ward," she added. "Then you may both fritter away your time however you wish."

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," Lydia said. "Uncle Ambrose sends his 'fondest regards', he asked me to say."

This time McGonagall's face really did soften into a smile.

"I believe Professor Malfoy will want to see you tomorrow, Miss Ward. He will let you know, I am sure."

They debated going for dinner but, having eaten at tea-time, neither of them was hungry. They agreed instead to take their luggage to their dorms and meet up in the Joint Common Room. Xander rubbed himself against their legs then trotted off down a side corridor on errands of his own. By the time they got down to the common room after unpacking, Xander had returned. He was sitting in their usual booth, as if guarding against intruders. As the two of them walked towards the booth they were hailed by Jimmy Oluwale. He was sitting in a semicircle of sofas around the fireplace with Odysseus Anderson and half a dozen other first- and second-year students. The fire was lit, due to a downturn in the Scottish weather, so they gathered Xander and joined the group.

The two second-year girls in the group did not welcome the newcomers, Lydia noticed.

"Hey, you. What's new?" Jimmy greeted them. "How come you're back early?"

"Hey, Jimmy!" Freddie yipped. "Harry Potter gave Lydia a portkey to get home. So, I hitched along and kept her and her mum company."

Lydia wondered if Freddie had noticed the chilly looks from the two girls as well and had dropped Harry's name on purpose.

"Oh, crackin' good!" Jimmy pronounced.

"You'd think, wouldn't you," Freddie said. "But she made me do all my homework before I was allowed to eat or sleep or anything else!"

"What? Lydia's mum? Bit 'arsh, innit?" Jimmy sympathised.

"No, me," Lydia admitted. "Don't forget I've had two terms of watching him put off his homework until the last minute. I wanted to get mine out of the way, and I didn't want to spend the rest of the holiday reminding him."

The boys, other than Oddy, rolled their eyes. Freddie stuck his tongue out at Lydia. The two girls continued to regard her coldly.

Then they all noticed that Xander was sitting in front of Oddy staring at him. Oddy looked up from his book and scowled at the cat.

"He wants you to invite him to sit on your knee," Lydia explained.

"He wants me to invite him?" Oddy parroted. "He's only a cat."

"Yes," Lydia agreed. "He's a cat, not a cabbage. Invite him up."

"What will he do?" Oddy sounded concerned.

"He'll lie down in your lap. You'll stroke his head and he'll purr," Freddie explained. "Try it. It's fabulous."

Oddy frowned at the cat. "How do I invite him?"

"Well, you could have some gold-edged cards printed," Freddie suggested "Or you could move your book out of the way and let him up."

Oddy did not seem to like the idea of holding his book to one side but he gave in and did so. Xander sprang lightly onto Oddy's lap, looked at him and gave him a curious nod. He then turned around a couple of times and lay down. Oddy looked at his hands and his book, then back at Xander. With a sigh Oddy put his book down and started to stroke Xander's head. Xander started to purr.

Jimmy grinned. "You've got skills there, my friend."

"If you stroke his cheeks, he'll probably start drooling on you," Lydia smiled.

"That's because they have scent glands in their cheeks which they rub on things to mark them as sources of food," Oddy explained. "Thus, the rubbing sensation is associated with food and pleasure in general. That is why they find it pleasurable and also why they salivate in the expectation of food."

"I'm guessing he read that in a book, somewhere," chuckled Richie Spinet, one of the second-year Ravenclaws.

Oddy looked Freddie in the eyes, something he seldom did to anyone. "You're right. It is quite fabulous."

"You've probably got a job there for the rest of the evening," Lydia smiled.

Oddy looked down and kept stroking Xander.

They spent the rest of the evening talking. The two second-year girls eventually warmed to Lydia, due mainly to Jimmy and Freddie talking about all the famous people Lydia knew. By the time they went to their house common rooms, Lydia was chatting comfortably with the girls, Naomi Moon and Patty Prince.

Lydia found it odd to have the whole of the first-year girls' dorm to herself. Naomi had suggested she join them in the second-year dorm for the night, but part of Lydia wanted to be alone. She knew she would worry about the new term and what it would bring. She knew it might have been better not to be alone because of that. But somehow, she felt a need to worry – even though her uncle had always told her that, if you don't know enough to make a decision, worrying would solve nothing. As it turned out she fell asleep as soon as she got into her bed.

It was a peculiar dream she had that night. All she did was go about the normal things she went through on any normal day. There was a lot of walking around corridors, and up and down stairs. There were times spent sitting in classes, though she could not see the faces of those around her. There was one point where she went past Hagrid's empty hut and down to the loch. None of this could be called peculiar but as she did all these things she felt, no she knew, that she was being watched. Watched not by other students or some audience but by one particular… being. Someone, or something, that was curious about her but held neither love nor any warm feeling for her. Nor was this an indifferent observer. This entity had a growing disdain and dislike for her.

She woke early with a disgruntled, resentful cloud over her mind. Why should this thing dislike her? She had never done it any harm. She washed and dressed in a bad mood then scowled at herself in the mirror.

"Stupid girl," she admonished herself. "It's ruined your night and, if you carry on like this, it's going to ruin your day. Pick your face up and go and see Freddie."

"Waawaa. Mrowr," Xander offered from beside her ankle.

Lydia took this as agreement with her suggestion to herself.

"I didn't even notice you come in," she said.

There was some sort of magical system for allowing cats access to and from the different areas of the castle. Lydia had no idea what it was – invisible cat doors, probably. But Xander had learned to negotiate them with no problems right from the start. She knew Professor McGonagall could transfigure into a cat. Perhaps she had given all the cats an introductory lecture on getting around and all the things they were not allowed to do. Cats were not famous for taking to rules but it was McGonagall, after all.

"Did Minerva teach you all the rules?" she said to Xander.

Xander lay on the floor and rolled over, which made Lydia laugh.

"She makes us feel like that sometimes," she remarked.

Xander wound himself around and around her ankles for a few seconds then moved to one side and sat down, watching her.

"Well, it's still early but I'll go down to breakfast and wait for Freddie. I'm hoping because there aren't many people here, we won't have to stick to house tables. Will you accompany me down as far as the Entrance Hall?"

Xander stood up and waited for her to move.

"I'm talking to a cat and speaking like an old dictionary. If I turn into Uncle Ambrose promise you'll put me out of my misery."

"Mrar!" Xander promised.

Lydia giggled.

Xander carried on past the Great Hall as Lydia went in. The house tables were not there. There were groups of tables and chairs, more like a restaurant. Very few students were up and about at this time. Mostly there were small groups of older girls, totalling only ten or twelve students in total. They were probably up early to revise for the coming exams, Lydia guessed. There was no sign of Freddie.

Intimidated by the older girls, none of whom she knew, Lydia chose to sit at one of the smaller tables on her own. The first chair she tried was too low for her. Not wanting to eat with her chin on the table, she stood up and stomped around the table to find a higher seat. Then she sat again to try some breakfast. She started with a goblet of pumpkin juice. No sign of Freddie. She sighed. Then she had a cup of tea – on her own. She started to feel the same feelings the dream had given her. Her face and shoulders seemed heavier and they sagged under their weight. She finished her cup of tea and buttered some toast. No Freddie. She felt she was being watched. It was probably the other students. The fact she was sitting by herself did not help. It was not only the feeling of the dream, there were all the problems of last term – the whispering and pointing and being shunned.

"Come on, Freddie," she muttered under her breath.

The girl with the curly hair, the shy one who had shared their boat at the start of term, walked up to her table. She was clearly not Freddie so Lydia was not pleased to see her.

"Mind if I sit here?" she asked.

Lydia remembered something about the girl. "If you're not too posh to sit with me," she snapped.

The girl, halfway through the motion of sitting down, froze and stared at Lydia. Her mouth quivered and Lydia noticed her eyes become wetter. The girl, Sophie Inkwood as Lydia recalled, reversed her action. She stood again, walked back to the doors of the hall, and left.

Lydia sighed, feeling even more depressed. She had hurt someone because she had had a stupid dream. She was angry now, angry at herself. Why did people call this Sophie 'posh' anyway? She did not look posh or act posh. She had not sounded posh when she had asked to sit at the table. She had a slight Caribbean lilt, which was not something Lydia would expect people to think of as posh. Lydia sighed again.

Then Freddie appeared.

Lydia wanted to jump up and hug him but knew better than to do that with an audience. So, she waited until he sat down.

"I've done something terrible," she whispered.

Freddie's happy face became serious. "How terrible?"

Lydia sighed yet again. "I had a bad dream and you were late and I was in a bad mood and Sophie Inkwood…"

"Curly Girly?" Freddie interrupted.

Lydia nodded. "She asked if she could sit with me and I called her posh and she ran away. Well, she didn't run, but she walked out and she looked hurt."

"Well, that's easy," Freddie smiled. "We forget breakfast and we go and apologise to her."

"But you haven't eaten anything," Lydia protested.

Freddie grabbed a slice of toast and crammed it in his mouth.

"Have now," he retorted, spraying her with crumbs as he stood, lifting her by the elbow.

Lydia stood as well and followed him to the doorway.

"How will we find her? Lydia asked.

Freddie held up a finger, asking her to wait while he chewed and swallowed the mouthful of toast.

"Ohmygod, who knew dry toast was so hard to eat?" he muttered to himself, then continued. "Well, where would you go for a good cry?"

"At home I'd go to my bedroom," Lydia offered.

Freddie put his hands on his hips and tilted his head. "Are we at your home? More importantly, are we at her home?"

"No," Lydia admitted. "So… the nearest girls' bathrooms?"

"Exactly," Freddie replied. "Which are?"

"Down the corridor opposite and on the right, past the staff room."

"And you're still standing here because?"

She gave him a weak smile. "Because I'm an idiot and a horrible person?"

Freddie shook his head. "Because you're a scaredy cat and you haven't started moving your feet, yet. Oh, no offence, Xander."

Xander had appeared. He sat looking at Lydia and tilted his head. By chance, he tilted in the direction of the first-floor girls' bathroom.

Lydia flickered a smile at Freddie and set off across the Entrance Hall. Freddie walked with her, Xander followed.

Outside the bathroom they stopped and listened.

"Can't hear anyone," Lydia whispered.

"Maybe you could see better from the other side of the door," Freddie suggested.

Lydia sighed and went in. Xander followed. Freddie looked around then followed as well.

They heard a tap turn on and a washbasin filling with water. Sophie Inkwood was standing by the basin rubbing her eyes. She was looking in a mirror whose silvered backing was mottled with age. The dark and light patches reminded Lydia of a Friesian cow.

"Sophie?" Lydia called gently.

The girl looked around.

"I came to say I'm sorry and I'm an idiot and I was in a bad mood and I'm sorry," Lydia blurted out before Sophie could react.

Sophie looked at her and sniffed.

"I don't even know why people say you're posh and I don't know why it would be a bad thing anyway. I shouldn't have said it. You've never done anything to me," Lydia continued. Her eyes were starting to fill with tears.

"They call me 'posh' because I brought my own satin pillow," Sophie explained calmly. "Don't you upset yourself. You've apologised which is more than anyone else."

"It's for your hair, isn't it?" Freddie said.

Sophie nodded. "I've told them. But now they know how to upset me they just keep on. It's their little bit of power, I suppose."

"Why…?" Lydia began.

"Frizzy hair gets all tangled. A smooth pillow or a hood helps prevent it," Freddie explained.

Sophie nodded.

"But you've got beautiful hair," Lydia remarked. "It's curly and shiny. I'm so jealous."

"Well, d'uh," Freddie laughed. "Of course it's lovely – because she puts the work in. And the pillow's only a tiny part of that."

Sophie nodded again and smiled. "I like yours, Lydia. It's golden and silky."

"Like a unicorn," Freddie agreed. "Ooh, hair swaps! Typical girlies, never satisfied with what they've got. Anyway, now that we've decided you two have the most beautiful hair in the school can you please hug each other so I can get out of the girls' bathroom?"

"Miaow," said Xander.

"OK, Xander. You got beautiful hair, too," Freddie agreed. "Let's go."

Freddie and Xander left.

"He is a beautiful cat," Sophie admitted. "Hugs?"

"Forgive me?" Lydia pleaded.

"Of course," Sophie grinned, and hugged her.

7