She sat upright in the dark. The room was pitch black, and she stumbled as she threw off her blankets and tried to find her candle. She tripped in the dark, and hit her head on something very hard. Tasting blood, she realized she has split her lip on something that felt like the bedpost. She groped in the dark and finally felt her hand touch the candleholder. She fumbled with the book of matches, and finally she lit it. The room was illuminated by the soft orb of light that was coming from the candle. Having stubbed her toe in all the confusion, she limped over to her vanity.

She set the candle down with a soft clatter, and pulled her hair away from her face. She found that she had been correct in thinking she had split her lip. A steady stream of blood was running from her lip, past her chin, and ending in a small red spot on the collar of her T-shirt. She seized a tissue from her dresser and started to wipe it away. As she slid the tissue down her chin, she remembered the pain on her neck. It was still there, but her lip had taken her mind off of it. She finished wiping the blood stream away, and threw the tissue in to the trash can.

Then, she pulled down the collar of the T-shirt she had fallen asleep in. For a moment, she couldn't see anything unusual, and then she noticed it. An inch long mark on the soft spot of her neck. She leaned forward to study it. The candlelight flickered eerily off her face as she tried to discern the shape of the mark, for even though she was fairly sure it was her imagination, it seemed to be changing shape rapidly. Her blood ran cold as she realized it was a scar that was burning red, as if it had been freshly made. As she watched, horrified, it took once last second to shape- shift, and ended up in the form of a raindrop. Once it had assumed this shape, it glowed with a white fire that made her whole head feel as if it were about to explode. She screamed and clutched her neck, the scar burning under her fingers. And then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped, and she stood panting in front of her mirror. Her fingers trembled as she once again pulled down her collar. The scar was still there, but it had faded to a light pink. A raindrop was now permanently engraved on the soft indent of her neck.

The next morning she woke up very early. She lay still for a moment, wondering what it was the had woken her. All of a sudden, she realized that a little man with wicked eyes was floating about an inch from her face. She yelled, and sat up, clutching her blankets around her. The little man backed away, and she realized who it was.

"Peeves," she growled, "Yes, I know who you are," she said, catching his expression, "and there's no need to look so shocked, I know more than you think. Now, if you don't leave immediately, I'll have no choice but to go to Professor Dumbledore."

Peeves spun around in mid-air and started to float toward the door, but as he reached it, he spun around. "Oy! You got something on your neck, there!" he said with an evil grin. Then, cackling, he zoomed out of the room.

Perhaps it was because she was still processing being woken up so early, but she did not even hear his words, let alone worry about them. It must have been a dream, she thought, I just imagined that scar. The room was light enough now that she didn't need to light a candle. The candle!, she thought suddenly, that's how I can tell if it was a dream. She threw off her covers and ran to the vanity. Her heart froze as she saw the melted stub of a candle lying in its brass holder. The nightmare had happened. The scar was real, although how she acquired it, she could not explain. She stood in front of her vanity, rubbing her neck, and trying to decide what to do next. Should she go to Dumbledore? No, she told herself, just imagine what the teachers would think then. They already think I've been sent here to destroy them all, she thought with a small smile. It occurred to her then, as she looked down and realized she was still in the clothes of the previous day, that she would have to change. Without thinking, she started toward the dresser. But then, she realized that this wasn't her dresser at home. Yet she couldn't understand why Professor would have put just an empty dresser in her room. A blinding white light penetrated the room as she slid the drawer open.

She shielded her eyes against the glare, and tried to lean forward to see what was inside. Nothing but blinding neon light greeted her. Removing her hand from her eyes, she stepped back. She studied the dresser, very confused, and wondered how she was supposed to get clothes from this stupid thing. Then, she recalled how Professor Dumbledore had ordered his dinner at the Yule Ball last year. She leaned over the drawer again, and said very clearly, "Sweater." Instantly, and with a faint pop, white sweater was lying in the drawer, just within her reach. "Blue," she shouted into the light. The sweater faded to a pale, powdery blue. She smiled at her own ingeniousness, and grabbed the sweater.

This new method of getting clothing took very little getting used to for Jessica. And soon, she had acquired a pair of bellbottom jeans, black boots, and her blue sweater. She dressed and pulled her hair into a simple ponytail. She looked at herself in the mirror, wishing that she had her makeup. But somehow, she didn't look bad without it, infact, she looked as though she had just applied some. Oh well, I guess I could always look worse, she thought. Mustering up all of her courage, she opened the door and left her room.

Although it was still relatively early, a few people were awake. They were milling around the Common Room, talking in quiet voices. As Jessica shut the door behind her, she caught a couple of sentences from a conversation taking place near her.

"Yea, I know. I don't know what to think though. She seems pretty nice, but I don't want to become friends with her."

"I don't think she seems nice! I think she's evil! I mean, how else could she have gotten here? She must be working for You-Know-Who. I can't believe she's going to be in our house. Why not put her in Slytherin with the other evil people?"

"Yes, but still…"

"And what kind of a name is 'Jessica'? This whole situation is so riddled with Dark Magic…"

Jessica gave a start at the sound of her name. She walked slowly away from the door, and leaned forward slightly to get a look at the people having the conversation.

She recognized them at once. There was no mistaking them, they looked exactly like the book had said. Parvati Patil was sitting in one of the big armchairs by the fire, her long dark hair twisted in to a braid. She looked simply furious, and was discussing a very serious matter with another girl. Jessica recognized her as Lavender Brown, Parvati's best friend in the books. Lavender didn't look angry, infact, she looked sympathetic.

"Yes, Parvati, I understand. But still, we should be nice to her. We don't know for sure that she's evil. Plus, Professor McGonagall told us to treat her like she's perfectly normal, and she's going to be in all of our classes, so we might as well start getting along with her now," Lavender said.

Parvati simply glared at her and said, "Well, you do what you want. But I refuse to have anything to do with that…that…evil, wicked…"

Parvati faltered as Jessica, who had been trying to listen to their conversation in secret, let out a huge sneeze. Oops…Jessica thought. She came out from behind a chair, and looked at the pair of them.

"Um, Hello," she said quietly. She wished that she had known something better to say, but the situation had left her feeling extremely dim-witted.

Lavender cast a sidelong glance at Parvati, who was sitting with her mouth hanging open, and then stood up. "Hello, I'm Lavender…"

"Brown," Jessica said simply. She felt herself turn red, she had said too much. Lavender's eyes became round, and she looked over her shoulder at Parvati, who sat with a self-satisfied smile on her lips.

"Oh, I heard, uh, someone say your last name was Brown. That's…that's how I knew," she said in a rush, eager to cover her mistake.

"Oh," Lavender said, apparently still shaken that Jessica had known her name. "Oh," she said again, "well, um, this is Parvati Patil. And we're also fifth year Gryffindors. Yea, so…" Lavender was still apparently at a loss for words.

"Oh really? Well, that's very nice," Jessica said, eager to move the conversation away from her mistake, "But I have to be honest, I don't have any idea what I'm doing. I'm so confused, but I guess if someone will talk to me, I'll have a good chance getting out of this situation alive." She smiled, but apparently, they hadn't found this funny. They both looked quite terrified, infact. Parvati stood up from her chair, and walked away quickly. Lavender took another look at Jessica, and then followed her. Jessica stood by herself in the middle of the armchairs, making a mental note to never try and make a joke again. She looked around and saw that the Common Room was slowly filling up with students. So, she walked over to the corner to wait and see what they were doing. Jessica hadn't been lying, she really didn't have any idea what to do. Soon, she heard some students say they were going down to breakfast, and watched as they left through the portrait hole. Not wanting to miss the opportunity, she slid out silently behind them, and followed at a distance. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to them, but after the conversation with Parvati and Lavender, she decided to wait for a while before she talked to anyone. She followed the students in front of her for quite some time, trying to remember their path exactly so she wouldn't have to follow people tomorrow. Finally they came to the staircase the led down to the Great Hall. She walked slowly, remembering that there could be trick steps that she could get stuck in. Soon, she had reached the Great Oak doors that led in to the Hall. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

Immediate silence fell, and all she could see was a sea of black robes. She looked down and blushed, wishing she had picked something black to blend in with everyone else. Then, a buzzing started to fill the Hall and people started pointing.

Professor McGonagall walked over to her, amid the stares and whispers, and said, "Come on, Jessica. Your table is over here." She led her to a long table that stood directly in front of the High Table. Professor McGonagall told her to sit wherever she wanted, and then went back to sit at the teacher's table.

Jessica walked slowly down the side of the table, until she was at the very last seat. No one was within five seats of her, and she was privately glad. She did not feel like dealing with the torments of people just yet. She ate a very hurried breakfast, and then went to talk to Professor McGonagall, who was still sitting at the High Table. Jessica noticed that she had a small piece of paper in her hand. When she reached the table and started to speak, Professor McGonagall held up a hand to silence her. "Please let me speak first," she told her, "I have in my hand your schedule. These teachers have been informed that you are going to be taking their classes, and they have all agreed to treat you like any other student. Please note that you are to be on time to every lesson, or you will be given a detention. Oh yes, I almost forgot," here, she reached in to her robe and pulled out a brand new looking wand, "We sent your measurements to Mr. Ollivander, and he was kind enough to send you a wand. It will be paid for by the school fund, so you need not worry about that. You will also find that the rest of the required supplies are up in your room. Do not hesitate to ask for directions from other students, I am sure they will be most helpful." Ya, right, Jessica thought wryly, however, she was too excited to be worried for long. She took the wand from Professor with shaking hands. Her own wand! She could hardly believe it, it was a dream come true.