"Bugger off, Malfoy," Ron said coldly. This "Malfoy" simply grinned at
Wyllowe. He took two strides toward the table, and shoved Harry to the
side. He took Wyllowe's small hand in his. Harry had begun to fume, and was
fumbling around in his robe pockets, undoubtedly for his wand. Before Harry
could do anything, however, Draco swiftly pulled out his own wand and
deftly shot a spell at Harry that taped his mouth shut with duct-tape,
Malfoy's grey eyes never leaving Wyllowe. He grinned.
"That's a little American trick I learned in the States this year," he added with a sly wink. Wyllowe couldn't speak. She was shocked beyond words. This boy, although seemingly mischievous, was incredibly intriguing. His face was eye-catching, with finely chiseled features that were almost pretty, but he still managed to look masculine. His hair was the lightest white blonde, and he had multiple piercing in each ear, and one in his eyebrow.
"Nice, Malfoy," came Harry's voice from behind them. Somehow he had rid himself of the tape, and was ready to hit Malfoy with a spell himself. However, Malfoy jumped up and scuttled out of the way, making a dramatic motion towards the seat beside Wyllow.
"Be my guest, Potter, by all means we know you have a ton of luck with the ladies," he said, punctuating the comment with a sarcastic laugh. Then he turned to Wyllowe.
"I'll see you later, I expect," he said simply. He turned and walked away. Harry reclaimed his seat by Wyllowe, even though Ron had jumped up and tried to cross over the table.
"He just never gets any better, does he? Stupid prick," Hermione said to the other girls in exasperation. Parvati, however, giggled.
"Oh, but isn't he just as sexy as can be?" she queried the table. All the girls burst out talking at once, and Wyllowe caught phrases ranging from "such a rebel" to "I hear he has ten piercings and four tattoos total." Hermione sighed.
"Hopeless, the lot of you," she muttered as the girls began talking about other boys in depth.
"Sorry about that, Wyllowe, Malfoy has a big problem with me, I guess," Harry apologized, searching Wyllowe's face for any sign of what she was thinking.
"I'd suppose so," was all Wyllowe said. Harry was right; the boy had a mean- streak, and didn't seem to be the "right" type of boy that Aunt Gladys kept telling her she should look for. Draco was most definitely the "wrong" type of boy, but something about him awakened a feeling in her that she hadn't experienced in her countrified life: a feeling of rebellion. In the midst of Wyllowe's thoughts, Hermione stood.
"Well Wyllowe, I'd assume you'll want to see the whole of Hogwarts, since all you've seen as of yet is The Great Hall. If you'd like, I'll take you up to the Gryffindor common room and get you settled in," Hermione offered.
"Actually, that would be wonderful," Wyllowe responded, standing up and grabbing her bags. Ron jumped up and started to mumble something about taking her bags, but Hermione cut him off.
"Ron, don't be such an egotistic asshole. I'm sure Wyllowe can carry her own bags, and I'm sure that although your extremely he-man efforts to help are flattering, Wyllowe has had plenty of male attention already," she said sternly, and walked off towards the back of the hall, assuming Wyllowe would follow.
Wyllowe smiled at red-faced Ron, and trotted after Hermione. After a series of twists and turns, going up staircases only to go back down even longer ones, and going down numerous halls, they arrived in front of a painting. In the painting was a very fat lady in a pink dress. Standing in front of the painting was a serious-looking girl with small glasses and her hair pulled back severely. "Hello, Hermione. Welcome back. The password is 'odious moron' till further notice," she said, "and good luck with your classes this year." The girl gave Hermione a prim smile, which Hermione returned. Once Hermione and Wyllowe had climbed through the painting, Hermione let out a menacing noise and flopped in a cushy scarlet chair.
"That," she said to Wyllowe, who was going to join her, "is Elitza Maran. She is a prefect this year, and is my biggest competition for Head Girl next year." "Head Girl?" Wyllowe asked, sitting on the edge of an overstuffed sofa.
"Yes, the girl and boy who have the best grades and are model students and citizens in the wizarding world get to be Head Girl and Boy. And pay no attention to the nasty names and connotations associated with the title, it is a very prestigious honor, to be sure," Hermione finished rapidly, jumping up. She crossed the room to a door labeled with a crimson stick figure of a girl that Wyllowe had seen on the door of Muggle restrooms. "This is the girl's side . . . let's find our dormitories."
"All right," Wyllowe agreed, grabbing up her bags and parcels. She followed Hermione through the door, only to find another mahogany staircase with rich red carpeting. A list was posted at the bottom of the stairs.
"Shit! Would you look at that?" Hermione cried, once she had read a small paragraph at the top of the parchment tacked to the wall, "It says that there are an abundance of first years and so fifth, sixth, and seventh years will all be mixed up in room assignments. Well how do you like that? Looks like I'm with Parvati and Lavender, but you're catty-cornered from us with Ginny . . . you two will get along just fine. Follow me, and I'll show you what to do," Hermione instructed, peering at the list. The two girls tramped up the stairs and walked halfway down a hall before Hermione stopped and looked at a nameplate on the door.
"Yes, this is it. Wyllowe Burtaine, Kylie Isles, Portia London, and Virginia Weasley," she read, and opened the door for Wyllowe. Wyllowe stepped into a light, airy room painted stark white with two sets of bunkbeds, two vanities, and two bureaus. The beds had curtains around them, and lamps on the wall they were against, and were dressed in all-white bedding. She sat her bags by the closest bed. "Wyllowe, I'm going to jet down to my room and set up my things . . . pictures and such, you know, but I will come back to get you before anything else goes on. Oh, and you should put up any pictures or posters now before the other girls attack the room, and you might want to set out all your makeup and haircare items on the vanity now too. Girls are vicious for space, you might as well 'stake your claim,'" Hermione said, and skipped of out the room and down the hall.
Wyllowe stood alone in the bare room. She placed her bag on the bottom bunk of her chosen bed, and began to unpack. She placed her clothing in the drawers, her toothbrush, hairbrush, and chapstick on the vanity, and piled her schoolbooks on top of the bureau. She pulled out an aged photo in a simple wood frame and placed it in front of the books. The picture showed Wyllowe as a young girl with her mother and her father, all waving and hugging. She smiled in spite of herself, and slid her carpetbag under the bed. Wyllowe sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. This would be her own private space for the next two years. She sighed and took off her out-of- date boots with the spiked heels. They were the only shoes her aunt could find in her size, and they killed her feet. She drew her legs up into the bunk and shut the curtain around her. She felt a sudden change in the room, and heard the door open.
"Hermione?" she called, swishing open the curtain and expecting the smiling, bushy-haired girl. Instead, a smooth-faced black girl looked back at her. Ginny Weasley appeared behind this new girl.
"Oh, hi Wyllowe. This is Portia London, she's in fifth year with me. Portia, this is Wyllowe, she's just transferred," Ginny explained. Portia grinned at Wyllowe, showing crooked white teeth. She was tall and gangly, her elbows sticking out all over the place, and she bumped into everything in the room before settling in the opposite bunk. Ginny glanced at Wyllowe and smiled.
"Would you mind if I shared a bunk with you?" she asked, motioning to the top section of Wyllowe's bunk bed.
"No, no, not at all," Wyllowe answered, attempting a warm smile. Ginny grinned back, and began to unpack. Portia and Ginny began to chat about student with names Wyllowe didn't recognize. About five minutes into the conversation the door opened and another girl came in. She was short and wiry, with jet-black hair cut in a shaggy bob. She wore no makeup, but her face was covered in dense freckles. She looked to be several years younger than the other girls, but Portia laughed and ran to hug her.
"Hey there! How are you, Kylie? I haven't seen you in ages, sweets! This is smashing . . . " she rambled on as Kylie unpacked her things and settled in to the bunk atop Portia's.
"Yep, I'm psyched about my seventh year!" the tiny girl said, her voice matching her small physique. Wyllow couldn't believe she was the oldest in the group, since she looked to be the youngest. Nevertheless, these were her roommates, and she'd be spending the next year with them. She smiled to herself, and joined the conversation.
"That's a little American trick I learned in the States this year," he added with a sly wink. Wyllowe couldn't speak. She was shocked beyond words. This boy, although seemingly mischievous, was incredibly intriguing. His face was eye-catching, with finely chiseled features that were almost pretty, but he still managed to look masculine. His hair was the lightest white blonde, and he had multiple piercing in each ear, and one in his eyebrow.
"Nice, Malfoy," came Harry's voice from behind them. Somehow he had rid himself of the tape, and was ready to hit Malfoy with a spell himself. However, Malfoy jumped up and scuttled out of the way, making a dramatic motion towards the seat beside Wyllow.
"Be my guest, Potter, by all means we know you have a ton of luck with the ladies," he said, punctuating the comment with a sarcastic laugh. Then he turned to Wyllowe.
"I'll see you later, I expect," he said simply. He turned and walked away. Harry reclaimed his seat by Wyllowe, even though Ron had jumped up and tried to cross over the table.
"He just never gets any better, does he? Stupid prick," Hermione said to the other girls in exasperation. Parvati, however, giggled.
"Oh, but isn't he just as sexy as can be?" she queried the table. All the girls burst out talking at once, and Wyllowe caught phrases ranging from "such a rebel" to "I hear he has ten piercings and four tattoos total." Hermione sighed.
"Hopeless, the lot of you," she muttered as the girls began talking about other boys in depth.
"Sorry about that, Wyllowe, Malfoy has a big problem with me, I guess," Harry apologized, searching Wyllowe's face for any sign of what she was thinking.
"I'd suppose so," was all Wyllowe said. Harry was right; the boy had a mean- streak, and didn't seem to be the "right" type of boy that Aunt Gladys kept telling her she should look for. Draco was most definitely the "wrong" type of boy, but something about him awakened a feeling in her that she hadn't experienced in her countrified life: a feeling of rebellion. In the midst of Wyllowe's thoughts, Hermione stood.
"Well Wyllowe, I'd assume you'll want to see the whole of Hogwarts, since all you've seen as of yet is The Great Hall. If you'd like, I'll take you up to the Gryffindor common room and get you settled in," Hermione offered.
"Actually, that would be wonderful," Wyllowe responded, standing up and grabbing her bags. Ron jumped up and started to mumble something about taking her bags, but Hermione cut him off.
"Ron, don't be such an egotistic asshole. I'm sure Wyllowe can carry her own bags, and I'm sure that although your extremely he-man efforts to help are flattering, Wyllowe has had plenty of male attention already," she said sternly, and walked off towards the back of the hall, assuming Wyllowe would follow.
Wyllowe smiled at red-faced Ron, and trotted after Hermione. After a series of twists and turns, going up staircases only to go back down even longer ones, and going down numerous halls, they arrived in front of a painting. In the painting was a very fat lady in a pink dress. Standing in front of the painting was a serious-looking girl with small glasses and her hair pulled back severely. "Hello, Hermione. Welcome back. The password is 'odious moron' till further notice," she said, "and good luck with your classes this year." The girl gave Hermione a prim smile, which Hermione returned. Once Hermione and Wyllowe had climbed through the painting, Hermione let out a menacing noise and flopped in a cushy scarlet chair.
"That," she said to Wyllowe, who was going to join her, "is Elitza Maran. She is a prefect this year, and is my biggest competition for Head Girl next year." "Head Girl?" Wyllowe asked, sitting on the edge of an overstuffed sofa.
"Yes, the girl and boy who have the best grades and are model students and citizens in the wizarding world get to be Head Girl and Boy. And pay no attention to the nasty names and connotations associated with the title, it is a very prestigious honor, to be sure," Hermione finished rapidly, jumping up. She crossed the room to a door labeled with a crimson stick figure of a girl that Wyllowe had seen on the door of Muggle restrooms. "This is the girl's side . . . let's find our dormitories."
"All right," Wyllowe agreed, grabbing up her bags and parcels. She followed Hermione through the door, only to find another mahogany staircase with rich red carpeting. A list was posted at the bottom of the stairs.
"Shit! Would you look at that?" Hermione cried, once she had read a small paragraph at the top of the parchment tacked to the wall, "It says that there are an abundance of first years and so fifth, sixth, and seventh years will all be mixed up in room assignments. Well how do you like that? Looks like I'm with Parvati and Lavender, but you're catty-cornered from us with Ginny . . . you two will get along just fine. Follow me, and I'll show you what to do," Hermione instructed, peering at the list. The two girls tramped up the stairs and walked halfway down a hall before Hermione stopped and looked at a nameplate on the door.
"Yes, this is it. Wyllowe Burtaine, Kylie Isles, Portia London, and Virginia Weasley," she read, and opened the door for Wyllowe. Wyllowe stepped into a light, airy room painted stark white with two sets of bunkbeds, two vanities, and two bureaus. The beds had curtains around them, and lamps on the wall they were against, and were dressed in all-white bedding. She sat her bags by the closest bed. "Wyllowe, I'm going to jet down to my room and set up my things . . . pictures and such, you know, but I will come back to get you before anything else goes on. Oh, and you should put up any pictures or posters now before the other girls attack the room, and you might want to set out all your makeup and haircare items on the vanity now too. Girls are vicious for space, you might as well 'stake your claim,'" Hermione said, and skipped of out the room and down the hall.
Wyllowe stood alone in the bare room. She placed her bag on the bottom bunk of her chosen bed, and began to unpack. She placed her clothing in the drawers, her toothbrush, hairbrush, and chapstick on the vanity, and piled her schoolbooks on top of the bureau. She pulled out an aged photo in a simple wood frame and placed it in front of the books. The picture showed Wyllowe as a young girl with her mother and her father, all waving and hugging. She smiled in spite of herself, and slid her carpetbag under the bed. Wyllowe sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. This would be her own private space for the next two years. She sighed and took off her out-of- date boots with the spiked heels. They were the only shoes her aunt could find in her size, and they killed her feet. She drew her legs up into the bunk and shut the curtain around her. She felt a sudden change in the room, and heard the door open.
"Hermione?" she called, swishing open the curtain and expecting the smiling, bushy-haired girl. Instead, a smooth-faced black girl looked back at her. Ginny Weasley appeared behind this new girl.
"Oh, hi Wyllowe. This is Portia London, she's in fifth year with me. Portia, this is Wyllowe, she's just transferred," Ginny explained. Portia grinned at Wyllowe, showing crooked white teeth. She was tall and gangly, her elbows sticking out all over the place, and she bumped into everything in the room before settling in the opposite bunk. Ginny glanced at Wyllowe and smiled.
"Would you mind if I shared a bunk with you?" she asked, motioning to the top section of Wyllowe's bunk bed.
"No, no, not at all," Wyllowe answered, attempting a warm smile. Ginny grinned back, and began to unpack. Portia and Ginny began to chat about student with names Wyllowe didn't recognize. About five minutes into the conversation the door opened and another girl came in. She was short and wiry, with jet-black hair cut in a shaggy bob. She wore no makeup, but her face was covered in dense freckles. She looked to be several years younger than the other girls, but Portia laughed and ran to hug her.
"Hey there! How are you, Kylie? I haven't seen you in ages, sweets! This is smashing . . . " she rambled on as Kylie unpacked her things and settled in to the bunk atop Portia's.
"Yep, I'm psyched about my seventh year!" the tiny girl said, her voice matching her small physique. Wyllow couldn't believe she was the oldest in the group, since she looked to be the youngest. Nevertheless, these were her roommates, and she'd be spending the next year with them. She smiled to herself, and joined the conversation.