Hate is hate, especially when it's mutual
The music beat was quick, as the feet of the dancers. They were amazing. Sam's dance group was practicing off by the quiddich field (instead of the four that Harry saw before the whole group was there, a total of six), there was a large group of people watching them. They were dancing to a song called papercut by Linkin Park, a muggle song, but muggle's seem to have better music.
Why's it feel like night today?
Something in here's not right today.
Why am I so uptight today?
Paranoia is all I got left.
I don't know what stressed me first.
Or how the pressure was feed.
The song had a depressing kind of mood to it, but it was very very quick and the dancers moved rapidly, Hermione wondered how they managed to remember the moves.
But I know just what it feels like to have a voice in the back of my head.
Harry could relate to this song, for all of his time, he had worked up a serious paranoia and it seemed like there was no escaping it.
Like a face that I hold inside,
A face that wakes when I close my eyes.
Face that watches everytime I lie.
A face that laughs every time I fall.
After a few minutes the song ended. The dance group waited till the crowd dispersed, they were practicing they didn't actually want a crowd watching them. Harry was deep in thought, he was wondering where Voldemort was, what he was doing, when he would try to kill him. He took some time to figure out that Sam was watching him. When he looked at her she winked, then turned to her dance group. The three girls in the group walked over to Harry. Sam introduced them.
"Harry, this is Jasmine," she said indicating a very pretty African American girl, "and this," she then indicated to a girl who's black hair was very thin and stick straight, she had dark eyes, and very pale skin, "is Alex.
"Hey," said Alex.
"Hi," responded Harry.
"Nice to meet you England." Said Jasmine.
"What?"
"She had a tendency to call people by their, country or town or something like that. Since you're the first person she's met here, you are England." Said Alex.
"Oh… are you really going to call me that?"
"Yes." Said Alex and Jasmine at the same time.
Harry looked over at Sam.
"Yes they are. Like Jasmine calls her boyfriend Brooklyn. Jasmine reacted to this very quickly.
"I don't have a boyfriend."
Sam gave her a sideways look. "Yes you do."
Alex appeared at Sam's side. "You most certainly do. You're smitten." Alex put the back of her hand up on her head, sighed and stared to fall backwards. As if she were fainting. Sam caught her and started fanning her.
Jasmine pushed them over. "You're so immature."
"Most definitely." Agreed Sam, "that's why you love us."
The three boys from the group wandered over. The tallest had sandy hair and blue eyes. He smirked, "What'd you do this time?"
Alex looked confused. "What do you mean?" She looked over at Sam who had the same look.
"Yeah," agreed Sam, "why are you implying that we did something?"
The boy with brown hair who was smaller than the others but very well built pointed out that they almost always did something.
"True." Said Sam, "we were simply commenting on how Jasmine calls people by the name of where they're from."
"Oh," said the third boy who was African American and pretty tall, "like how she calls her boyfriend Brooklyn."
"THANK YOU!" exclaimed Alex.
Jasmine exhaled, obviously trying to keep herself calm. "Come on," she said, "we have to practice other dances." They all got up and talked for a second agreed on a song and got into positions. Harry wasn't watching them, he didn't do anything, he simply leaned against a tree and just was for a while. He wasn't a doomed hero, or an orphan, he was just another person. He felt this way because of how Sam and her group treated him. Like he was just another person. It would make sense. Hanging around with a serris must make someone pretty used to being with someone like that.
After a while, their practice ended and Harry went for transfiguration. After the class, he saw Sam talking to herself,
"No, I can't do that." She paused and seemed to be listening. "No, I don't care… why do you think you're so much better than me?" She closed her eyes and said, "I don't care about that, I'm just as good and just a suited, everything's fine. Fine. We'll talk about this later."
For several seconds Harry considered that fact that Sam might be schizophrenic, but then remembered how on the train to Hogwarts she had done the same thing, and also she had talked in his head. Sam began pacing and muttering. She raised her and to her forehead and through the corner of her eye she saw Harry standing there. She started, and without turning asked,
"Harry how long have you been there?"
He immediately became suspicious. "Why?"
Sam noticed his tone and turned towards him, "What? I just want to know…"
"WHAT? Are you talking about me? Why should it matter?"
"Why are you so suspicious of me?"
Harry stopped. He didn't know… he muttered an apology and walked away from her.
He got a few steps away then realized that he had left a text book in his class. He doubled back just in time to see Sam bump into Snape.
"Watch where you're going serris." He sneered.
"Like wise you deatheater reject."
Neither was aware that Harry was in hearing distance.
"You should respect the teachers in this school."
"I'm not a student, and I respect the teachers, except you. I don't see why I should respect you, you don't deserve it."
"If Dumbledore respects me so should you."
Sam pretended to consider it. "No," she decided, "I don't think I will."
She started walking away.
"Stupid arrogant mudblood."
Sam stopped, and turned. Harry could feel her power radiating and was extremely glad it was not directed at him. Snape looked a little nervous.
"You forget Severus that though I might be younger and smaller than you I am more powerful and more important than you will ever be."
She disappeared and Snape opened his mouth to mutter something and Harry saw the realization in his eyes, Sam had taken away his ability to talk.
Harry smiled. This was something he could be happy about.
