Disclaimer: I only own one Alyssa Becker.
Chapter 3: Foretold
During the evening meal, Alyssa was bombarded with questions from her none-too-trusting housemates. The first of which pertained to her parentage. She lied to Draco and stated she was descended from the most famous of wizarding families called the Stevensynders a very old, Germanic, pureblood line. She only prayed that no one in the house took the time to research that name… Thankfully, no one seemed suspicious for her "borrowing" from a muggle TV sitcom which ran from 1964-1972.
After the Inquisition, there were several questions regarding what sort of activities the wizards in America liked. She once again drew upon muggle entertainment and confessed they raced hoverboards, as Quidditch never really caught on over there.
"We hold Hoverboard races in coliseums. Hoverboards are like flying skateboards with jets attached instead of wheels." Belatedly, it occurred to Alyssa that this wizarding culture is not inspired by muggle entertainment, (as she assumed America would be based on the Tossed Salad theory she learned in History class) as she received several blank stares in response. "Well, it's rather like a board which one must stand sideways and balance one's weight upon."
They seemed satisfied that Alyssa Becker was what she said she was and dinner continued quietly. Then Pansy escorted her to the Slytherin dorm room. Pansy was speaking to her, but she was preoccupied with just how in the world she was to pretend to be a witch.
"...and when Snape picks on you, just hike up your skirt some more. Are you even listening to me Alyssa?"
"Huh? Yeah. One question though, why would Snape pick on me? I'm part of his house won't I be immune to his snide remarks?"
"Well, he rather frequently gets in an all-around bad mood when his...arm bothers him. I've found it helps his mood to show a bit more skin. Don't ask why."
But WHY would Snape be interested in my legs? That's just gross.
Is it really gross, Miss Alyssa Leighann Becker? He's only 43 years old. Admit it, you're enticed by him.
Okay voice-in-my-head, I think I'll call you Tim-Tim, if you're so clever as to use my full given name and to try to unnerve me, answer me this: HOW am I to pass off being a witch!
See Snape tomorrow, and wear that new pair of jeans Tanja got you.
Creep! I'm only-
Seventeen.
Why are you even in my head, Sir Tim-Tim? What is it that you want from me? My secret family recipe for baked beans? The combination to my safety deposit box? My soul?
It is foretold of your arrival here...