3.
Imogene swung her chair back against the wall.
'You seen that Goth?' Laura sneered.
'Who me?'
'Of course.'
'What goth?'
'New one yesterday.' Tracey muttered.
'What's her name? Cheryl?' Amanda questioned.
'No, Kayleigh, innit?' Janie argued.
'Oh, I thought it was Chelsea actually,' Grace mumbled.
'Who gives a damn, anyway?' Imogene interrupted. Her and Janie's tutor, Miss Morris, came in:
'Janie, it's your turn this week to get the register. Imogene put your chair down. The rest of you go to your tutor rooms,' she boomed.
'Aw but miss.' Janie moaned.
'No buts Janie. Everyone gets it one week to be fair.'
'Be even more fair and get it yerself,' she muttered. Out loud she continued: 'Imi can you come with me?'
'Sure.'
****
Chelsea, without thinking, plunged into the sea. She resurfaced, swung her soaking wet, short, jet-black hair off her face and dived under, holding her breath.
Under the surface of the sea it was hard for her to see, nonetheless she made out the unconscious body of the girl. She could tell she was about her age, dark skin with very dark long hair. She grabbed her arm and resurfaced, pulling her out of the water. Struggling back to the shore, she hoped she wasn't too late.
****
Harry looked up at the grandfather clock in the hallway. He had loaded everything of hers into the car, including indignant Marauder, and she still wasn't back yet. It was nearly time to go and she wasn't back from seeing her muggle friends. He didn't want a repeat of his second year.
****
Miss Morris called out the register, reading off the names, pausing twice. The first time was when she heard the door creak open and two of her pupils creeping in:
'Joey! David! You're late!' They muttered an excuse under their breath. 'That's not good enough, you should set your alarm clocks for earlier in the morning.' They sat down in their normal places. The second time she stopped was to mark down Chelsea Matthews' absence.
After what seemed like an eternity for her and her pupils the bell for first period went. Everyone scrambled out of their seats and towards the door.
****
Crystal woke up drenched and lying on the beach. She pulled herself up to see a pale girl with short black hair.
'What happened?' she groaned.
'You nearly drowned.' She suddenly saw the girl was soaked too.
'Thanks. Sorry, don't know your name.'
'Chelsea. Chelsea Matthews.'
'Crystal-Rose Potter.'
'I'm new in this town. I don't know anyone.'
'Oh. Poor you. Look, you know Joey and Dave?'
'Er. I think they're in my tutor.'
'They don't like Imogene or her gang or any of the popular ones. You'll be ok with them as mates.'
'Uh.thanks.'
'You're welcome. It's the least I could do.' They parted, Crystal going back home, Chelsea, deciding that maybe she'd go to school after all, headed that way.
****
At last, and just on time, Crystal got to Platform 9¾. She ran up onto the train, which was about to leave. She put her things in the luggage compartment. She got on as it pulled out of the station. She caught up with Brianna and started to chat just as an icy, snobby voice cut in:
'Well well, we meet again!'.
Imogene swung her chair back against the wall.
'You seen that Goth?' Laura sneered.
'Who me?'
'Of course.'
'What goth?'
'New one yesterday.' Tracey muttered.
'What's her name? Cheryl?' Amanda questioned.
'No, Kayleigh, innit?' Janie argued.
'Oh, I thought it was Chelsea actually,' Grace mumbled.
'Who gives a damn, anyway?' Imogene interrupted. Her and Janie's tutor, Miss Morris, came in:
'Janie, it's your turn this week to get the register. Imogene put your chair down. The rest of you go to your tutor rooms,' she boomed.
'Aw but miss.' Janie moaned.
'No buts Janie. Everyone gets it one week to be fair.'
'Be even more fair and get it yerself,' she muttered. Out loud she continued: 'Imi can you come with me?'
'Sure.'
****
Chelsea, without thinking, plunged into the sea. She resurfaced, swung her soaking wet, short, jet-black hair off her face and dived under, holding her breath.
Under the surface of the sea it was hard for her to see, nonetheless she made out the unconscious body of the girl. She could tell she was about her age, dark skin with very dark long hair. She grabbed her arm and resurfaced, pulling her out of the water. Struggling back to the shore, she hoped she wasn't too late.
****
Harry looked up at the grandfather clock in the hallway. He had loaded everything of hers into the car, including indignant Marauder, and she still wasn't back yet. It was nearly time to go and she wasn't back from seeing her muggle friends. He didn't want a repeat of his second year.
****
Miss Morris called out the register, reading off the names, pausing twice. The first time was when she heard the door creak open and two of her pupils creeping in:
'Joey! David! You're late!' They muttered an excuse under their breath. 'That's not good enough, you should set your alarm clocks for earlier in the morning.' They sat down in their normal places. The second time she stopped was to mark down Chelsea Matthews' absence.
After what seemed like an eternity for her and her pupils the bell for first period went. Everyone scrambled out of their seats and towards the door.
****
Crystal woke up drenched and lying on the beach. She pulled herself up to see a pale girl with short black hair.
'What happened?' she groaned.
'You nearly drowned.' She suddenly saw the girl was soaked too.
'Thanks. Sorry, don't know your name.'
'Chelsea. Chelsea Matthews.'
'Crystal-Rose Potter.'
'I'm new in this town. I don't know anyone.'
'Oh. Poor you. Look, you know Joey and Dave?'
'Er. I think they're in my tutor.'
'They don't like Imogene or her gang or any of the popular ones. You'll be ok with them as mates.'
'Uh.thanks.'
'You're welcome. It's the least I could do.' They parted, Crystal going back home, Chelsea, deciding that maybe she'd go to school after all, headed that way.
****
At last, and just on time, Crystal got to Platform 9¾. She ran up onto the train, which was about to leave. She put her things in the luggage compartment. She got on as it pulled out of the station. She caught up with Brianna and started to chat just as an icy, snobby voice cut in:
'Well well, we meet again!'.