CHAPTER EIGHT Mai Thylacine
As their months at Hogwarts progressed, James, Remus, Sirius and Ophelia learned more about their new friends.
Petey would gladly take the blame if a prank went awry. He was also fairly good in their practical Defence Against the Dark Arts classes.
Lily however, was exceptionally good in Charms, as well as every other class, of course. And unknown to all but Talia and Ophelia, she had a wicked sense of humour.
But one person managed to elude their company, day after day.
Mai Thylacine, the tiny waif of a witch, stood just over five feet tall, with her long, auburn hair falling neatly down her back.
She had successfully avoided James and the rest by spending free time outside, finding some quiet spot to practice her gymnastics. Once, filled with a confusing mix of boredom and spontanaity and feeling as though she was about to burst, Mai dropped her books and cartwheeled down the corridor. But a Ravenclaw boy saw this and shot her a 'look', and that had put a stop to her indoor acrobatics.
For now.
Winter had finally come and grandly announced it's arrival with a glittering white snow, just shy of a meter. It had appeared overnight, as is the fashion of the first real snow of the year.
Rubeus Hagrid, the groundsman, had gone to painstaking lengths to create a path from the castle to the greenhouse, and as no other clearings were needed, Mai found herself stuck indoors.
She grudingly decided to put her time to good use by camping out in the library each night. She thought this the safest bet to avoid those who spent History of Magic lessons debating the merits of obscure Quidditch teams.
However, the more Mai tried to repress that voice in her head, the one that laughed with glee every time Sirius Black or one of the older boys made a fool out of a skulking Slytherin, the more she secretly desired to join their ranks.
Lucien, her closest friend since she was a child, had taught her a few curses that she was sure the boys in her House hadn't heard of. Growing up, she and Lucien would sometimes filch their parent's wands to play tricks on unsuspecting Muggles. Nothing serious, mind you, just enough to amuse an eight year-old.
So you can imagine the surprise when she was daydreaming yet another day away in the library and noticed the four Gryffindor boys slink in and take the table in the back.
Peter, the mousy one, was nervously playing with a cloth bag in his hands. Whether or not it held any importance, Mai noticed that they had stationed themselves directly across from a stringy-haired Slytherin. She had never really paid him so much as a glance, but she thought his name was Crabbey or something like that.
A bit of whatever was in Peter's bag had come loose, and there was a now a fine, orange powder gathered at his feet.
"Screeching Powder," thought Mai. She and Lucien had used the stuff only last summer, but it had left a horrible stain on their hands and his mother had traced it back to them.
Mai quickly scribbled a warning and on the pretense of looking for a book, walked past Potter's table and dropped the folded parchment into his lap. She thoughtlessly grabbed a weighty book entitled 'Faery Tribes of Britain', and returned to her seat.
She glanced up just in time to receive an appreciative smile from Sirius before turning back to her reading, which was turning out to be quite fascinating.
"Maybe just once every so often," she thought to herself. "Besides, we can't let the boys have all the fun when it comes to hexing the Slytherins."
Mai Thylacine carefully gathered her things and headed to the dorms. But not before hexing a fourth year's teeth green.