Chapter 11: EXCUSE me?

I was unexplainably, positively, ABSOLUTELY glad I was friends with Harry and Ron. Well… sort of friends. But I wish Hermione was the same way. She was too preoccupied with her book to even listen to all that we were talking about. I talked about the manner in which I got to Hogwarts (which sadly enough was kind of vague), Dumbledore's kindness, my sponsors and my schedule.

"No offense, but you open up kinda quickly, Juls," Ron grinned.

"Well, if I feel comfortable with a person, I treat him or her like an old friend," I motioned with my spoon as I ate. Mmm. Good pudding.

"You should know which people to trust. You can't let your guard down with some people," Harry frowned.

"Like who?" I asked.

I hated feigning ignorance but I knew I shouldn't let on that I knew too much.

"The Slytherins," Ron said, wrinkling his nose. He leaned over and whispered, "Don't worry. You'd smell them from a mile away."

"Haha! What do they smell like, B.O.?" I whispered back.

"Yeah, B.O. and really nasty pomade. Especially in the case of that Slytherin," Ron motioned at Malfoy discreetly.

"Oooh… I'd hate to butt heads with him, haha."

"If that ever happens, you won't be able to get the grease out for months."

"Ron! You. Are. Terrible."

"You bet he is!" a haughty voice piped up. Deep oafish voices chuckled at the comment.

It was Draco Malfoy with his cronies, sneering at us with his head cocked on one side. Upon closer inspection he looked every inch the rich, spoiled jerk that he was. He focused his eyes on me and raised his eyebrow. I could sense that he saw me as some kind of dog turd in his way. I tried to remind myself that it was nothing I should be concerned about. Malfoy was as good a judge of character as he was kind. And obviously, he wasn't.

"Another Mudblood? I didn't expect one to drop in right smack after the first two weeks of the year. This place is getting to be one huge dump," he sneered, "these unbred muggle trash make my stomach churn." He then proceeded to make barfing noises. The trolls I assumed was Crabbe and Goyle chucked stupidly.

He was annoying. Insulting. Rude. Vile. I knew better than to fight back. But…

NO ONE TALKS TO ME THAT WAY.

"Screw you, Malfoy," I scoffed, my eyes flaming.

Malfoy's jaw dropped. Apparently I was the first one to say anything remotely obscene to him in that way. His mouth gaped open, at a loss for words. Crabbe and Goyle were shocked as well.

"Yeah Malfoy. Stick it up yours. I'm sure it'll fit in nice and snug…"

"Umm… Juls… I think that's enough…" Harry muttered.

Sorry. I'm on a roll. "And another thing! Why don't you just shut the f…"

"Ahem."

I turned around and it was Dumbledore.

"Best to keep your cool, Ms. Enicola."

"Ahh…"

"We'll discuss this later. I have found a personal teacher for you. I shall walk you to your classroom. After all, it's on my way."

"Yes sir."

Words couldn't explain how embarrassed I was. Yeah, I curse. A lot. But rarely AT people. Usually I use it as expressions, and only around close friends. But as I found out, no one really got to me like Draco Malfoy. Getting caught cursing by Dumbledore was like getting caught by my parents. It stung.

"I do not approve of the obscenity you have shown, Ms. Enicola. It was crude and not becoming for a Hogwarts student."

People really don't cuss around here?, I thought.

"I do not mean to be so strict but I insist that older students should at least act as a good role model among the younger ones. You may deal with Mr. Malfoy in various ways, but there is a limit to what we will allow in this school."

"Yes sir."

We had turned into an unfamiliar corridor. It seemed strangely colder and slightly darker. Dumbledore stopped in his tracks and knocked on a heavy looking old door.

"You have her, Albus?"

"Yes, Patrick."

Patrick was a middle aged man with silver-rimmed glasses. He wore his auburn hair in a style that reminded me of Reggie in the Archie comics circa the 50s. He had a slight whisp of a moustache above his lip and a little goatee on his chin. His dark grey robes were in subtle contrast with his deep green cravat and his black trousers. He wore smart black shoes that had the side buttons. He had the air of a scholar. A very serious one at that. He stood up from a tall chair. He looked like he was reading a piece of parchment from a tall stack.

"Little miss, this is Professor Patrick Ghent. He is to be your tutor."

"I am pleased to meet your acquaintance, Ms. Enicola," Prof. Ghent said in his formal manner as he shook my hand, "I expect that you will fulfill your duties, as I will mine."

"Yes sir."

Professor Dumbledore chuckled. He must've noticed that 'yes sir' was all I've said in the past 5 minutes.

"Now, may I leave the little miss in your care, Patrick?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, you may Albus. I'm sure you have other matters to attend to."

"I shall leave you now, then," Professor Dumbledore smiled. He patted my head and whispered, " He is very capable, and I know you are as well."

I smiled and said, "Thank you Professor."

Dumbledore headed for the door. As he was about to close it behind him, he paused and said, "She'll do just fine, Patrick. I can tell."

I thought that was all, but he continued.

"She's a Gryffindor if I ever did see one."