I was already late to my first class, Muggle Studies. I glanced at my
schedule, skimming down the important details. On Mondays, I had Muggle
Studies first thing in the morning, then Herbology after that, and after
lunch I had Potions, and then Defense against the Dark Arts. I gulped
nervously at the last one, and pushed it out of my mind, concentrating on
my first class.
I had so far fell through a trick step, gone down a wrong hallway, gone up a stairway only to have it change so that I had to find another way back, and taken wrong directions from a set of armor.
When I finally reached the class, I was fifteen minutes late, which made it all the more embarrassing that I had to stand up in front of the class and be introduced to them.
"Porter, Charlotte! Welcome to Hogwarts," said a bored looking woman, the teacher. I didn't even catch her name as she shoved me toward a desk. It felt as though the entire class was staring at me as I sat down. My nostrils flared nervously and I heard whispers. I sat down slowly, in a seat at the back of the classroom, and closed my eyes. This year was going to be no different from the others, except that I was even weirder.
"Better prepare yourself for that," said a voice beside me. I opened my eyes and looked at the person I was sharing a table with. He was quite strange looking; his hair was dyed an obvious black, and he had eyes the color of the lake I had seen when we arrived at Hogwarts. He was what people at my old school would most definitely consider a punk. But that wasn't what was strange about him. It wasn't the eyebrow and lip piercings, nor was it the shocking vividness yet plain apathy visible in his eyes. It was his skin; it was a strange greenish color. Not seasick, and not painted; it didn't even seem like his skin was green, only that it gave off a green feeling. But it was a healthy green.almost plant-like. "It happens a lot the first few days." He bared his teeth in a fierce grin that displayed a set of straight, white teeth. "Especially to.strange ones, like us," he added, sitting back in his chair. For some reason, the way he said this last part insulted me. It was apparent to him that I was offended, but his smile grew and he held out his hand. "Gavin Edhelorn."
I stared at him for a moment, then smiled. His eyes flickered a moment, but his smile didn't. I bit my lip with one fang, drawing a little bit of blood. I licked it absently. "Charlie Porter. Nice to meet you." I let go of his hand, turned around, and took out a few pieces of parchment and a quill, taking down notes. Make a new friend every day, I thought.
"Hey guys," I said, poking at my chicken. It was lunchtime. Hermione, Ron, Harry, and I were eating together. We had just come from Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, and I had just seen that Gavin Edhelorn in my Muggle Studies class and was reminded off him. He winked at me and sidled over to the opposite end of the table.
"Yah?" said Ron inquiringly. He had a mouth full of potatoes. I giggled.
"What do you know about Gavin Edhelorn?" I asked. Hermione's expression grew dark.
"He's really strange," she said, sniffing. I smiled sarcastically.
"Thanks," I said dryly. She grinned.
"He's a halfie, like you-" I stiffened, and Hermione covered her mouth. "Oh, goodness, Charlie, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean anything by it." I smiled.
"I know," I said, waving at her. "Continue."
"Well, he's.an elf," she said slowly. I frowned.
"A house elf?" I asked, confused. "But how is that,-"
"It's not," she interrupted me. "Not a house elf. He's a half-elf. There are hardly any elves left anywhere, but one of his parents is one, most likely his mother. From what I looked up in the library, the first time I saw him, he looks most like he's part tree nymph, but since tree nymphs can only be female, it's likely that his mother was a nymph and his father a wizard." I blinked at her.
"Hermione, I say this in the friendliest way but.you are such a nerd," I said, chuckling. She grinned sheepishly, and continued.
"Anyway, he's sort of a loner. I mean, he has friends, but when we first came to Hogwarts, I didn't even notice him. Halfway through first year, I caught a glimpse of him, then didn't see him until last year when I was in Muggle Studies and he was in my class. He sat at the back and never said anything." She grimaced. "I get a feeling he's trouble." I wrinkled my nose.
"I don't know about that," I said. I didn't mean to defend the stranger, but I didn't think he was as bad as Hermione thought, as rude as he was to me. "I think he's just.actually, he acts like a rebellious Muggle teenager." I raised an eyebrow. How strange. "It seems that at Salem there were more cliques than there are at Hogwarts. I mean, here you have Gryffindor and Slytherin and everyone separated into their own groups, but at Salem, not only did we have the house separation, but also groups of.I don't know, social classes. The preppy group, the bullies, the punks, the nerds.you know." I shrugged. "He just seems like one of the punks to me."
"What group were you in?" asked Harry. I smiled slightly.
"I was part of a group in which none of the members ever spoke to each other," I said dully. "The group without unity, or friendship, or respect. The one that everyone hated, even the people in it. The outcasts." There was an awkward silence. I laughed uncertainly. "Good thing I'm agoraphobic, hm?" Hermione snorted uncontrollably.
"What's 'agoraphobic'?" asked Ron confusedly.
I had so far fell through a trick step, gone down a wrong hallway, gone up a stairway only to have it change so that I had to find another way back, and taken wrong directions from a set of armor.
When I finally reached the class, I was fifteen minutes late, which made it all the more embarrassing that I had to stand up in front of the class and be introduced to them.
"Porter, Charlotte! Welcome to Hogwarts," said a bored looking woman, the teacher. I didn't even catch her name as she shoved me toward a desk. It felt as though the entire class was staring at me as I sat down. My nostrils flared nervously and I heard whispers. I sat down slowly, in a seat at the back of the classroom, and closed my eyes. This year was going to be no different from the others, except that I was even weirder.
"Better prepare yourself for that," said a voice beside me. I opened my eyes and looked at the person I was sharing a table with. He was quite strange looking; his hair was dyed an obvious black, and he had eyes the color of the lake I had seen when we arrived at Hogwarts. He was what people at my old school would most definitely consider a punk. But that wasn't what was strange about him. It wasn't the eyebrow and lip piercings, nor was it the shocking vividness yet plain apathy visible in his eyes. It was his skin; it was a strange greenish color. Not seasick, and not painted; it didn't even seem like his skin was green, only that it gave off a green feeling. But it was a healthy green.almost plant-like. "It happens a lot the first few days." He bared his teeth in a fierce grin that displayed a set of straight, white teeth. "Especially to.strange ones, like us," he added, sitting back in his chair. For some reason, the way he said this last part insulted me. It was apparent to him that I was offended, but his smile grew and he held out his hand. "Gavin Edhelorn."
I stared at him for a moment, then smiled. His eyes flickered a moment, but his smile didn't. I bit my lip with one fang, drawing a little bit of blood. I licked it absently. "Charlie Porter. Nice to meet you." I let go of his hand, turned around, and took out a few pieces of parchment and a quill, taking down notes. Make a new friend every day, I thought.
"Hey guys," I said, poking at my chicken. It was lunchtime. Hermione, Ron, Harry, and I were eating together. We had just come from Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, and I had just seen that Gavin Edhelorn in my Muggle Studies class and was reminded off him. He winked at me and sidled over to the opposite end of the table.
"Yah?" said Ron inquiringly. He had a mouth full of potatoes. I giggled.
"What do you know about Gavin Edhelorn?" I asked. Hermione's expression grew dark.
"He's really strange," she said, sniffing. I smiled sarcastically.
"Thanks," I said dryly. She grinned.
"He's a halfie, like you-" I stiffened, and Hermione covered her mouth. "Oh, goodness, Charlie, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean anything by it." I smiled.
"I know," I said, waving at her. "Continue."
"Well, he's.an elf," she said slowly. I frowned.
"A house elf?" I asked, confused. "But how is that,-"
"It's not," she interrupted me. "Not a house elf. He's a half-elf. There are hardly any elves left anywhere, but one of his parents is one, most likely his mother. From what I looked up in the library, the first time I saw him, he looks most like he's part tree nymph, but since tree nymphs can only be female, it's likely that his mother was a nymph and his father a wizard." I blinked at her.
"Hermione, I say this in the friendliest way but.you are such a nerd," I said, chuckling. She grinned sheepishly, and continued.
"Anyway, he's sort of a loner. I mean, he has friends, but when we first came to Hogwarts, I didn't even notice him. Halfway through first year, I caught a glimpse of him, then didn't see him until last year when I was in Muggle Studies and he was in my class. He sat at the back and never said anything." She grimaced. "I get a feeling he's trouble." I wrinkled my nose.
"I don't know about that," I said. I didn't mean to defend the stranger, but I didn't think he was as bad as Hermione thought, as rude as he was to me. "I think he's just.actually, he acts like a rebellious Muggle teenager." I raised an eyebrow. How strange. "It seems that at Salem there were more cliques than there are at Hogwarts. I mean, here you have Gryffindor and Slytherin and everyone separated into their own groups, but at Salem, not only did we have the house separation, but also groups of.I don't know, social classes. The preppy group, the bullies, the punks, the nerds.you know." I shrugged. "He just seems like one of the punks to me."
"What group were you in?" asked Harry. I smiled slightly.
"I was part of a group in which none of the members ever spoke to each other," I said dully. "The group without unity, or friendship, or respect. The one that everyone hated, even the people in it. The outcasts." There was an awkward silence. I laughed uncertainly. "Good thing I'm agoraphobic, hm?" Hermione snorted uncontrollably.
"What's 'agoraphobic'?" asked Ron confusedly.