Okay, so my life hasn't been perfect. Or close to perfect, but it's not all my fault! Just mostly...Now I have a choice on how much I can change this less than perfect life, by choosing which door I'm going to walk through. Left or right? Alone or together? Why not just simplify things and jump out window? No, that'd be bad. Not high enough up. So, I'll just take a deep breath, and remember this past year and figure out what would be best for everyone...mainly me.
I was sitting alone in the Great Hall, the day Hogwart's reopened for school. All alone at the Gryffindor table, before the train had even arrived. I didn't come on the train, Filch was sent to get me. My mother found that to be unreasonable, but I understood, seeing as I skipped last year completely. Meaning I skipped my sixth year and am now in my seventh, just like the golden trio.
I'm not bitter or anything, I just don't know them. I don't know anybody. Seriously, everyone calls me Webber, which would be fine if that was my actual name. And by everyone, I mean the teachers. My last name is Webb, so that's what I go by. It works. Looking back, it makes sense that none of the teachers got my name right. My first year, I refused to come. Filch was sent to get me then, too. I ended up getting there two weeks late. By then the main friendships had been established, the names learned, and the teachers knew who they needed to know. Leaving me out. Making me slightly happier to be stuck there. This first day was pretty much the complete opposite of my first first day, if that makes any sense. I just sat there, waiting. Not wearing my uniform, instead old jeans with more holes than what was countable and what was quite possibly my favorite shirt. A black tank top with the words "Keep Your Herpes to Yourself" in big, block, white letters on the front. All of that is nothing compared to the rest of me, I had some naturally weird hair. Long and straight, normal that way, but the coloring was copper, blond, gold and a little bit of natural silver. That's not a weird thing in my family, the silver. My great-grandmother, better known as Mammy, has the same thing, and so does her daughter, my grandmother, Gran, and my mother, Ma. Of course, some have more silver than others.
Still, I don't think my hair compared to my aviator glasses. Those were some hardcore sunglasses, black lenses with silver frames. Not only were they awesome for that, but also because I had a nasty cut right under my eye that was hid well by them. Now, I would love to sit and remember only what I was wearing, but after some fun cleaning my nails with my other nails, the doors opened, and the students who didn'tneed to be sorted came in. I barely looked up over my Aviators. People were evidently surprised to see me, which I figure since most of them watched me and the people from my own house filled in the seats farthest from me. Fine by me, I didn't like most of them anyways. The golden trio sat in front of me, but the redhaired guy sacrificed his sister to sit next to me. "Um, hi." the sister said, Ginny, but I couldn't remember then. "Mmhmm." was all I said back, still messing with my nails. The nails were just there to distract me, none of the dirt showed, the black polish hid it all well. The hum I gave as an answer worked, since no one really bothered me for the rest of the night. Those people were lucky to get a sound out of me, seeing as my first two years I did not say a word. Seriously, not a sound. I said it before, I'll say it again, I really really really hated that place. Dumbledore's speech droned on and on after the sorting. I didn't bother to applaud any of the first years.
The meal wasn't that memorable. They never were. I know the stories of the amazing food served in that place, but it's simply not true. The food was scary. There was no way of knowing if it was chicken being served or a friend of Hagrid. They never had anything Mammy made. Yes, my great-grandmother was still alive. She's an interesting character, moved to England from Old Country, wherever that is. So, Gram is British, along with Ma, but not me. I was born and spent my first few years in America, so no British accent. Another way I stood out at Hogwarts. Anyways, it was back at the common room, I was reading. Just reading, innocent and everything. I was reading Hogwarts, A History, for the umpteenth time. "Oh my goodness!" Hermione Granger cried out when she saw me reading this, I barely looked at her. "You're the other person who checks out that book!" she finished. I still didn't react. "Is this your first time reading it?" she asked. Obviously, she had never read of a hint. "No." I told her, hoping my body language would tip her off. "It really is a fascinating book, isn't it?" apparently I was not direct enough with my body language, so I just snorted a response. "You're the only person I've met who has read that more than once! Are you knew?" "Nope. Just didn't come last year." I told her. Turns out that might not have been the best idea, telling her that. It wasn't that she just clammed up at the mention of her last year, it's that she started talking to me. As in, a lot.
Hermione also means Ron and Harry, like I said before, the golden trio. Hermione always wanted to talk about books, and Ron and Harry didn't seem capable of hanging out with anyone else. For the first few days this whole interaction with other people at school wasn't so bad. They'd usually get my name right, and didn't ask too many questions. By the end of the week it got old,
"Is that your natural hair color?" "Is that a piercing?" "Is that a tattoo?" the list goes on and on, so many questions! And yes! Yes!! YES!!! Yeesh! Why bother with all of this? I never asked them any questions, but that might have been why they kept coming. You could say I respected their privacy, or that I was too shy, but in fact, I just didn't care. I didn't give a flying flip what happened that year I was missing. My own problems are enough, why bother with theirs? By the second week of class I did not even care about being nice. At first, I was almost trying, but by then, I didn't want to see any of them again. It's not that they were bad people, it was just that I was. So on the day that when Hermione was telling me about ANOTHER book in potions, it must have been fate that Snape saw.
"Do I need to seperate you two, Ms. Granger?" he sneered at us. I have never felt any kind of affection to a teacher except right then. "Yes." I chimed in, my head in my hands, looking at the table. Hermione gave me a look of surprise/disgust and Snape raised an eyebrow. "I do not appreciate this attitude, Ms. Webber, five points from Gryffindor." Ooh, that made me mad. I am not named Webber! "Webb." I corrected as he turned back around, but Snape stopped as soon as I said this. "What?!" he demanded in a cold voice, but he could of had a knife at my throat, wouldn't have stopped me. "You called me Webber. My name is Webb. I'm a seventh year, you can at least try and get my name right." I explained to him with an edgy voice. "I will not stand for this disrespect!" he spat at me, "Then sit down." I spit back. We were so close to having a cat fight it was beautiful. "Who do you think you are?!" he yelled at me, and I rolled my eyes. "I think I am Webb, seventh year here, wanting desperatly to be anywhere else. I am also an American, and I suspect that you don't want me to finish this list." I said it. Oh yes, I did. Why? I'm guessing because life was just TOO easy before. Before I could even take in the reaction of the class, meaning all the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherin, Snape had me by the arm and was dragging me to Dumbledore's office. I found it necessary to scream and fight until he finally let go. He fumed at me the entire way, I still have no clue what he actually said. I also don't know what Dumbledore said, I was forced to sit outside his statue. I sat there until I was sent to my next class. If only that had been the last of it.
Two days without punishment for potions. Two days! But was that the end of it? Noooo, I had to face the punishment two days later at breakfast. It was then that Dumbledore signalled me up to the teacher's table to speak to him. "Miss Webber, correct?" was the first thing he asked when I got up there. "Webb." I corrected for him, and he didn't seem to mind. "I owled your parents about the potions incident and am yet to receive a response. You wouldn't happen to know why, would you?" he asked in a kind tone. "Well, if I ever meet my father, I'll make sure to ask him." I retorted, ignoring his kindly tone.
His brow furrowed for a moment, but then he dismissed me. I turned back around and before I had any real time to go anywhere, the Great Hall doors burst open. "Webb! Get your arse over here!" my mother, grandmother and great-grandmother burst in, my mother yelling. "MA!" I cried out, eyes big.
There is nothing worse than when my mother bursts into a room. It's not that she's a big fat cow, knocking everything down around her, it's that she's louder than a big fat cow, knocking everything down around her. "What did you do?! You didn't hit a teacher did you?! I took that blade away, did you get another one and stab another teacher?!" she snapped in her shrieking voice. She was really out of her mind, and a calm voice might have worked better, but I seem to have my mom's tempermant. "When will you get over that stabbing?! I told you! I cannot be held responsible for my actoins when I'm on heroine!!!!" as soon as I said that, my hand clamped over my mouth.
I knew that admitting that I did drugs was not a good idea, even if I did hate everyone in that place. "Will you stop with the drugs!" Gran yelled over both of us. "I'm off it! You know that!" I yelled back, mad that they could not wrap their minds around it. So, I used to do heroine. They knew it, I knew it, there was no need for the rest of the world to know it. "Give your arm!" Mammy hollered, wobbling over to me. She grabbed my arm with more force than what would be expected from a little old lady. She examined my elbow joint, squinting her eyes and mumbling to herself in the language of Old Country. "No new." she finally decided, and threw my arm down without being overly concerned with my suffering. "Did ye check her toes? She used to shoot up there!" Gran had to add. Okay, at first, I did. But that was when I just started out, and didn't want anyone to know what I was doing. After abut three months, I stopped caring and used my arms like everyone else. But now I didn't shoot up at all. Quit cold turkey, and boy that was hell. "Take off shoes!" Mammy ordered, and I rolled my eyes at her. So I had an attitude problem, but at least I was over my drug problem. "You couldn't be a normal child, could you?! I let you stay home for a year, thinking that would help, but did it? NO! You've never been this bad at this school! Are you trying to ruin my life?! You're doing a damn fine job!" Ma blabbed out in a yell. "Oh, puh-lease. I've heard the stories, I am still not as bad as you were." I told her, waving my hand for emphasis. "Webb, will you please-" "You named your daughter Webb?" Snape finally cut my mom off, snapping me back to realize that entire school was in the Great Hall, amused. "No, she refuses to go by her first name, Webb is our last." she explained, obviously unamused. "Is it a bad name?" he seemed to wonder out loud. "It's a beautiful name." she insisted, but my eyes narrowed as I told him, "It was the cats name. Ma named me after a cat. A dead cat!" I explained to him, never taking my eyes off my mother. "Perhaps, all of you would rather discuss this somewhere else." Dumbledore finally spoke. it didn't matter hat he had said, Mammy was already making her way to the doors, probably to find someplace to get away from the students. My great-grandmother never has been a fan of children.