Chapter 5

For the first time in her life, Joad was miserable. It was a brand new emotion, plunging her into a realm of darkness. Everything took on a grey hue, darker and more solemn, but that could have just been the room she was in. The thick drapes on the bed she such a dark green they almost looked black. The bed posts, some kind of black wood, were regal looking snakes, each different from the next. In the head-board of the bed, SLYTHERIN was carved beautifully into the wood in an archaic style, but Joad paid no attention. Upon entering the surprisingly cheery common room, Joad excused herself and had gone up to the spiral staircase to the girls' dorm, got in bed, and closed the curtains around her. She lay in almost blackness, feeling comforted by the enclosed space so like a cockpit. It was then she realized she was homesick.

Being surrounded by people her own age sickened her, and she was glad she had not done it before. The dinning hall had stunk with bodies; not so much any of them would have noticed, but she had. She distrusted everyone and didn't even have a motherly picture to scold her anymore. It seemed pointless and illogical for her to have these emotions. One day her father would die and she would be all alone in the galaxy with no friends, ever. But when had emotions ever been rational? That what emotions were after all, irrational silly things that mostly bordered on insanity. Her father had told her that emotions were impossible to stop; the trick was to suppress them and dull their effects. Joad tried to meditate and banish white thoughts of Kamino from her mind, but eventually had to snake her hand from her bed and fumble in her chest until she pulled out her helmet. Tomorrow night, she promised herself as she slowly drifted to sleep with one hand gripping a vibroblade and the other wrapped around her helmet, she would not succumb to such foolish emotions.


A blind man would have more success in navigating a room full of mute people by verbal assistance only than Joad had in her lessons. She decided at the end of the day that her coming here was either a cruel joke or a fateful (and painful) coincidence; she was not magical at all. So used to excelling, Joad was miserable and humiliated when she could not get her wand to work. When ever she tried to use it for an enchantment, all she would receive was a shower of red sparks. She blamed it on the culture shock.

The day had not stared well at all.

She had gotten up early as usual, but was unable to go on her usual caper in the forest (neither the night before nor that morning to make up for it), since she could not very well go sneaking around the school in her armor now that there were so many students about, not to mention Filch on the prowl. She felt empty and weak in the limbs when she got out of bed. She was about to leave the dorm for a sunrise jog, then had remembered who exactly she was rooming with. Quickly and as quietly as possible she pulled out of her chest all of her armor and, in sections, hid it jammed between the bottom of her mattress and the boards holding the bed together. She would have to find a better place to hide it later.

By the time she had snuck downstairs, she became aware that she was not the only one who wanted to wake early. She heard rustling around the fireplace and a faint poof and the fire sprang anew. Surprised and curious that she could not see anyone where someone surely was, Joad crept towards the back of the deep green couch. Peering over the edge, she expected there to be a student sitting before the fire. Instead she found a pair of deep blue eyes the size of small hand grenades staring back at her. Startled, she fell back with a muffled cry, catching herself on her hands so she felt like a living bridge. The pair of eyes, or its owner if there was one, squeaked loudly and there was a soft thump as they fell off the couch. Joad was up almost instantly and stood up to get a good look at the mysterious thing.

It was small, barely coming up to her waist, if even that, and dressed in a white pillowcase with a fancy embroidered "H" on the right shoulder. It had black smudges where the knees were that must have been from cleaning out the fire place. The face had a fine cover of black powder on it, as did its arms up past the elbow. Somehow, Joad suspected magic, the dust didn't get on the carpet.

"Oh!" squeaked it, jumping to its feet and reaching up and tugging on its long ears. "Illa so sorry mistress! Illa did not expect anyone to be up yet so Illa came to tend the fireplace and was scared when she heard someone coming down the stairs! Is little miss hurt at all?" Her flat nose quivered with terrified eagerness as the already large eyes grew in size and looked intently at Joad's nose.

"Uh…" Joad took a step back, unsure of what to do with this little creature and its fast talk in one breath.

"If you are miss, it will be Illa's duty to punish herself, though Dumbledore says Illa doesn't have to."

"I'm fine," managed Joad.

"Are you sure?" And suddenly Illa was on the back of the couch examining Joad's hand and arm, pulling her closer with surprising force. "Your palms are red miss," she continued rapidly in a very urgent manner, "indicating trauma. Little miss is pale too." She pulled Joad's head to her and used her thumb to examine Joad's eye. "Dilated pupil," she squeaked in near panic, "but cold forehead. Heart rate of-" Joad finally got a hold of her wits and her 'attacker' enough to grab her by the arm and pull her off the couch and hold Illa away from her.

There was a shocked silence for a moment, then Illa burst into tears, intermixed with painfully high sobs.

"Illa is sorry to offend you," she wailed. "Illa does not want to loose her job or get Slytherins angry at her."

Joad felt her face twisting in a strange degree of horror. What was she to do now? A bizarre creature wailing at a near-inaudible decibel was bound to wake someone she didn't want to talk to. Hurriedly she put it on the couch and grabbed some tissues from the table and held them out to it.

"You didn't offend me," Joad offered, looking around.

"Oh but Illa did!" wailed it (who Joad supposed was the Illa she was always talking about.).

"No- shhhh!" Joad did not like this comforting thing. What was she supposed to say? Illa blew her nose on a tissue and pulled out a few more to wipe away the tears and extra snot.

"Illa didn't?" She peered up at Joad with her large peculiar eyes, tears threatening to spill out of them again. "Truthfully?"

Something stirred in Joad then, a strange feeling she had never experienced before. The picture of Illa, her feet barely reaching the edge of the couch, holding a crumpled tissue in her small hands, her large eyes looking into Joad's own and relying on her answer. Joad was not sure about this new emotion, but she had an idea what it was.

"Truthfully," she said and felt, at the corners of her mouth, the twitchings of the first real smile since she had left her father.


So Joad gained a little friend, but lost her morning run. So it hadn't been a terrible morning, but after the sun rose, it went downhill as fast as a kratdragon after a tusken raider that had just made a pathetic jab at its nose. And it all started with a murderous sentence:

"Oh look," Draco said in a pleasantly surprised voice, "we have the same schedules."

Joad could not deny it, and was forced was walk in the group of Slytherins as they made their way to Transfiguration, their first class. They were all talking and laughing, snickering at the fouler jokes and screaming with laughter at the, ahem,'funnier.' But there were times as they walked that it all seemed so fake to Joad, like everyone had been assigned a part to play, and they were already beginning to grow weary of it.

"We haveTransfig with the Gryffindors," said Draco at her side. He was about a head taller than her, slender and sharp. There was the feeling of conspiracy about him, as if right then he was plotting something behind your back. Joad had little doubt that he would not hesitate, would, anddid,go about scheming with glee. "They're a snobby lot," he sniffed, "so full of themselves it's a wonder that they manage to still get through doors. Harry Potter's among them. He's not as wonderful as the books make him out to be. Try to be nice to a guy and he hates you forever." He looked sour for a moment. "But we'll show him," he whispered quietly.

The two houses waited for Professor McGonagall separated by a crevasse of unbreakable taboo, crossed only by quick glares. She came quickly and hustled them all into her fascinating classroom where each house occupied a side of the room. Draco sat down next to Joad, across the isle from Harry Potter and a red head.

Professor McGonagall made her beginning of the year speech and began class with few "review" spells, none of which Joad was able to perform.

"Never mind Miss Teff, it must surely be the shock of meeting so many new people in a short period of time. You become used to them in a few days."

"Try one more time Joad," said kindly Professor Flitwick in Charms. "You'll get it next time, never worry."

"Go to the library to review," ordered Professor Nite in Defense Against the Dark Arts, then added kindly: "it's the culture shock. You'll be back to normal in a few days."

By the time they trudged to potions after a hurried lunch she was disheartened and felt like disappearing into the floor, never to reemerge.

The Gryffindors, whom they rejoining for potions,had preceded them out of the grand Hall and their voices echoed back along the corridor. When the Slytherins arrived at the Potions room was closed and locked so they all stood around it, separated by that gap pf inviolable space. Their voices turned to whispers as if they were afraid to let the other kind hear their jokes.

Behind the Slytherins, back towards the Grand Hall there was a ringing of footsteps as a Gryffindor boy rushed around the corner. His flushed face filled with uncertainty as he stopped and looked desperately past the wall of Slytherins at his friends. Draco saw and leaned over and whispered something maliciously to Nott. Then, stepping back from each other they parted the Slytherins with great sweeps of their arms.

"Make way!" they shouted, "Make way!"

"Make way for King Klutz of the Gryffindors," heralded Draco, performing a mock bow to the shocked and nervous Neville.

The Gryffindors were deathly silent, some of them had looks of anger on their faces.

"Come, your majesty," said Draco in a honeyed voice dripping with poison. "Your subjects await you." He gestured down the hallway of Slytherins to the waiting Gryffindors. All the Slytherins had grins on their faces, except Joad, who stood to the side wondering why Draco would do such a thing; if the Gryffindors were stuck up, then the Slytherins must be overflowing in priggery.

When Neville didn't move (poor boy was trembling and visibly uncertain), Draco looked back at the Gryffindors as if to say "What brave people you have," one eyebrow cocked and a confused mouth. The Slytherins snickered gleefully.

"Why, Your Longbottomness," Draco purred as he approached Neville, "we've made a path for you." Neville tried to back away but Draco caught him before he could. "Traverse it," he ordered.

The expressions on the Gryffindors' faces were of pure rage.

Draco pulled Neville forward, but at the same time stepped on his ropes, so the Gryffindor tripped and stumbled a little. A Slytherin jumped from his place in line at Neville's face, causing Neville to squeak and stumble back. Draco caught him and pushed him forward, once again stepping on his hems. Pansy jumped with a harpy's scream at him; the victim shied away from her, only to face another onslaught from his other side. He visibly shook now and the color had drained from his face.

"Stop!" screamed a Gryffindor girl, rushing forward.

"Malfoy," snarled Harry Potter, following the girl a few steps before squaring his shoulders heroically, "touch him again and I'll…" he let it hang menacingly but his intent was clear: he held his wand in his hand and didn't look afraid to use it.

"We're not touching him," smirked Draco, and he did stand a few feet away from, faking innocence.

"Come on Neville," said the bush haired girl, walking wearily toward the Slytherins. The red-head stuck close behind her, and Harry moved forward as well. Behind them the Gryffindors had formed a wall and took several steps after the three, as if an army waiting for their leading officers to lead them into battle.

"Let him be Granger," snapped Malfoy.

"Free-will is not suppressed in this school Malfoy, or we'd have you all in stocks by now," shot back Hermione. Neville hurried towards her, his way being interrupted only when Nott jumped at him with a soft and menacing 'boo!' All the Slytherins laughed when Neville made it to the other side to the Gryffindors, as if they had all just completed a marvelous joke.

"You're all so terribly witty," snarled Hermione. "It really makes you all look so powerful and masterful picking on a single person.

"Don't you wish you could organize something like that on the spot," boasted Draco to her. "That takes talent, Granger, that doesn't come from books. You'll never understand."

"I understand harassment when I see it."

"Tosh!" Draco waved it aside loudly, as if a minor matter, "poking fun."

"Poking fun is between friends, not enemies."

"So you admit it," whispered Draco, his eyes shinning.

Hermione straitened and held his eyes, but failed to say anything. Joad didn't fully understand this exchange, but she understood what the predicament Granger was in. If she said 'yes' she would official start the war of the houses; if 'no,' then she would deny what she said and loose the ground she had gained in the argument.

The silence stretched on between the two verbal gladiators, seemingly unbroken for ages and that they had turned to stone simply staring at each other, like two jealous Medusas.

"What did you gain from that Malfoy?" asked Harry icily after a time.

"I hope that we can do some things without gain," he answered breaking his eye contact with Hermione to look at Harry.

"Like fill you with curses," snapped the red-head.

"Watch it Weasly, or you might end up with a cauldron of slugs." The hall rang with the Slytherins laughter ad Weasly grew red behind the ears.

"Ron," warned Hermione, trying to hold him back.

"At least we all have talent," Ron snapped at Draco, "which is more than you can say for all your cronies." And he did a peculiar thing, Joad thought. He nodded his chin out towards her, where she lurked and watched on the sidelines. Joad never really figured out why he did this, when there were plenty of other stupid people to pick on. She straightened, anger flickered across her eyes.

Draco turned slightly to see who he was talking about. He frowned and turned back towards the Gryffindors.

"Don't be stupid Weasley," he laughed, but it sounded forced. "She could take you on and win any day."

Joad never figured out what the red-head was going to say to that, because Professor Snape choose that moment to sweep into the hall and past them into the room. As Joad went into the cold dungeon cell she could feel the red-head's hot glare on her back.


Sorry it took me so long :( but i hope you all like it! I like a lot better than my other version. i'll try to write more on Mistakes Happen, but i have a concert this weekend and an essay and o bunch of other things i should be doing.

Oh well