Chapter 2

Refuge

I don't have many memories from my time at the orphanage, or should I say many good memories. The orphanage itself was called The Refuge, the name implying it was a place of safety for people like me. It was a place where children were left if their parents couldn't look after them any longer or, in my case, were abandoned as babies. I had been found lying in my basket by an old couple taking a late night walk in the park. They had taken me to The Refuge the next morning when they were unable to locate my parents. There I lived without any knowledge of where I'd come from. I didn't even know my name. All I had besides the clothes I was wearing and the blanket I was wrapped in was a gold locket with a "J" engraved on the front. With no name and only a "J" as a clue to who I was, it was up to the Matron to give me one: Johanna. I thought it was an awful name but it was better than no name at all.

It wasn't until I was six years old that I learnt my name was actually Jennifer. While I was still a baby Matron had kept the locket in her office for safe keeping until I was old enough to wear it. She returned it to me on what was my "sixth birthday", the anniversary of the fifth year since I arrived at The Refuge. That was my unofficial birthday as my actual one was unknown. With my locket returned to me, naturally I was curious as to whether it had any information about my past connected to it. Upon inspecting it, I found the "J" which had led to me being called Johanna. On the side was a small latch meaning it could be opened. I slid my thumbnail in the joint and flicked the locket open. On one half inside was a picture of a woman with dark red hair. She looked really young. I wondered who she was and what relation she was to me. On the other half was one word: Jennifer. I showed it to Matron and, though doubtful, she allowed me to be re-named Jennifer. It wasn't much but it made me feel better, feeling that I now had a connection to someone somewhere.

I spent ten years at that orphanage. That was more than most who did. But things weren't easy. In fact they were far from easy with me.

For the first few years I was one of few children living at The Refuge. The number of us differed from month to month. At one point there were fourteen of us living there: five girls, including me, and nine boys. Some were older than I was by a year or two but none had been there as long as I had. The Refuge wasn't meant as a permanent home for any of us but unfortunately that's what it was for me. There were two dorms each with eight beds: Birch and Tyne. The girls' dormitory was Tyne, which I shared with the other four girls. Everyone had a trunk with things that had been left with them when they had arrived at The Refuge. All I had was my blanket and my baby clothes. I didn't own that much and even what I did own was mostly second hand. We slept on old rickety metal bed frames with thin mattresses and greying sheets. The Refuge didn't receive much funding or donations so whatever we did receive was always put on building repairs or food for us.

As I said, Matron had a lot of problems with me. I was about four when things started to go wrong. Small things like toys getting broken or items going missing but these things always happened around me and I couldn't explain it. This continual blaming, especially by a girl called Mandy, an obnoxious redhead who was my age, for things I had nothing to do with eventually spurred me to just be naughty. If I was going to get blamed for it, why not just be responsible in the first place? I became disobedient and disruptive and so Matron placed me under constant supervision. For three years Matron did her best to dissuade me from my bad behaviour but it never worked. I even adopted a nickname, Jenna, because I became sick of Jennifer being associated with all the bad things I did. In an attempt to placate me, Matron made the mistake of telling how I came to be at The Refuge, thinking that it would make the seven year old me be less resentful to the place that took me in. Let's just say from that moment on all my unintentional disruptiveness became much more intentional.

I hated what Matron told me. I hated her for telling me. What seven-year-old wants to be told that they were abandoned? She'd called me to her office and told me about the day I arrived. How I had been just over a year old according to the doctors who'd checked me over when I was found. Matron had said that I was found in a park on a cold autumnal night in October six years previous, my parents nowhere to be found and nothing but a blanket to keep me warm, and that the only reason I could have been there was to be left to die. I didn't want to believe her. Who would? I jumped up from my chair and screamed at her that it wasn't true. That was when I did my first bit of magic and I didn't even realise. As I screamed that Matron was lying to me, the mirror in Matron's office suddenly shattered without reason to. Shocked and angered, I ran from the room and out of the building. I ran all the way to the nearby park, the park I'd actually been found in, and took refuge in the playhouse. I remained there for sometime until Matron eventually found me and I had to return to the orphanage.

I'd always wondered what had happened that night. At the time I had none of the information I have now and so all I could do was believe what Matron had told me. I didn't want to though. I'd always thought that I had been abandoned by accident and that someone out there was looking for me. Now I wasn't so sure.

The incident with the mirror became the first of many where I used magic without actually realising I had. Whenever I became angry or one of the other kids called me a name, something strange always then followed. Things like a vase breaking; food burning in the oven and drinks becoming unbearably sour; and most disturbingly, something being set on fire. That only happened once when I was extremely angry; Mandy had been taunting me about my parents and abandonment. Next thing I knew the curtains behind me were on fire. All these accidents made the other children very wary of me and I became even more of an outcast than I already was. It was only after the incident with the curtains that I became scared of what I could do. After that I isolated myself in my dormitory to avoid anything like that happening again. As much as I disliked the other children I didn't want to hurt them.

It wasn't just when I was awake that these strange occurrences happened. I'd always had a vivid imagination. Even when I was asleep my dreams were so wild they felt almost real. So real that one night, when I was dreaming of being a dog and I was chasing a ginger cat (whom I assumed was a representation of Mandy) that when I woke up suddenly I was shocked to find I was the dog in my dreams. Actually physically a dog! I changed back almost immediately but I was very freaked out. Now I was changing into animals? What was wrong with me? I settled back down on my bed, my heart still racing slightly from the shock, and lay awake for the rest of the night.

As I got older, I changed a lot. I was quite tall for my age and my black hair was sleek and straight. It just didn't seem to stop growing no matter how many times Matron got it cut, and was halfway down my back by the time I was nine. I was also extremely skinny which proved an asset when it came to hiding in small spaces. Of course, being the troubled child I was, Matron just thought I wasn't eating and had made me visit the doctors several times to see if I had an eating disorder. The only thing that stayed the same were my blue eyes; unusually bright in colour I learnt how to cloud my guilt when I had done something wrong. Mandy would always rat me out regardless.

I never got on with any of the other girls in The Refuge, particularly Mandy. She'd been at The Refuge on and off for the last three years. Like I said, most of the other children were wary of me but there was one boy named Rick who was brave enough to approach me when I seemed upset. The reason I disliked Mandy so much was because of her continual taunting of my background: the unwanted child who was such a freak even her parents didn't want her. She loved rubbing it in that she still had family and her stay here was only temporary while her parents were away whereas I had no one at all. I tried my best not to rise to her taunts but sometimes I couldn't help it. Another reason I tried to keep myself to myself.

My attitude was a big problem because I was never afraid to fight back. If I wasn't fighting with the girls, slinging insults at them as they threw them at me, I was caught in a fight with one of the boys, pushing and shoving them as they did the same to me. I wasn't just going to let them bully me and not do anything about it. If I wasn't in trouble for fighting with the other children, I was in trouble for wandering off from The Refuge or when we were on a day trip, resulting in the police usually returning me to the orphanage. It was usually the same one, a friendly young policeman who would always sit with me first before taking me back when I was ready. It was on his suggestion that Matron look into me going to school. School wasn't really an option for us due to the orphanage's lack of funding and so only those whose family paid for them got to go. I only knew how to read and write because Matron had taught me. I learnt all the basics from her.

With Matron dismissing the idea of me going to school I remained as I am. I stayed in my dormitory away from the others, only leaving it for meals and the bathroom. I entertained myself with reading anything I could get my hands on which wasn't very much. The Refuge's book collection was rather limited so I ended up reading the same books multiple times. When it came to the weekly day-trip out I reluctantly left my dormitory to go on it with the others to visit the local shops or go to the cinema or visit the park, only because I saw it as an opportunity to get away from the other children for a few hours when I inevitably wandered off. It was on one of these day trips I stumbled across a place I'd never seen before. I had walked off from the museum visit Matron had organised for us and had been looking for a library when I saw this shabby-looking building hidden between a café and a computer game store. I looked round. No one else seem to realise the building was there. Slightly unnerved by this, I pushed open the door and walked in.

The library didn't look like a library when I entered. I expected to see a desk at the front with an old lady standing behind it to assist people in checking books in and out; to see the books sorted into sections like fiction and non-fiction, children and young adult; to see a seating area where people could read books before they checked them out to see if they liked them; and a computer where you could see if the book you wanted was stocked. I didn't see any of this. Sure, it had books. Stacks of them, in fact, all piled haphazardly on top of one another from floor to ceiling. But there was no seating area, no computer, and no check-in desk. There were people in there though, people dressed in strange looking clothes with their heads in old, worn-out books. In fact, upon closer inspection, all the books looked to be at least a hundred years old and about to fall apart. Some even had chains tying them together. I cocked my eyebrow at that, both confused and a bit worried.

As I stood at the entrance I had an eerie feeling that I was being watched and, sure enough, when I looked to my left I saw a tall, rather old-looking man was standing next to me. I jumped when I saw him. He was watching me, a curious look on his face; his beard, a dark brown with flecks of silver in it, reached just below his shoulders and had a string round it to keep it neat. Upon his nose sat a pair of circular spectacles through which he looked at me with a pair of piercing blue eyes. He too was wearing the same strange clothes as everyone else, nothing like I'd seen people wear before. They looked almost like robes.

'Can I help you?' he asked me. His voice was very polite. It startled me how nice he appeared.

'I … I don't know,' I admitted. I didn't. I had no idea why I did come in this strange little shop nor did I know what it was I was looking for. 'I just saw the shop and came in.'

The man observed me. I flushed, embarrassed by the attention this man had focused on me.

'Hmm, I think I know exactly what you're looking for.'

The man walked off towards the back of the shop. I watched as he walked off. I had no idea what was going on. Still, intrigued and slightly amazed, I followed. I watched silently as the man ran a long finger along shelf upon shelf of dusty old books. He muttered to himself in a low voice, occasionally glancing over his shoulder at me, searching for something. I just stood there, silent and dumbstruck. After a few minutes searching he pulled a particularly worn and tattered book off a shelf and took it back to the front of the shop. Again, I followed. The man was wrapping the book in some brown paper and string.

'Just bring it back when you're finished with it,' the man told me. He handed me the book then ushered me to the door. 'Oh, and I thought you might like these,' he added. He took my hand and placed a bag of what looked like sherbet lemon sweets in it. 'My brother loves these but I've never had a taste for them. If you see him, will you give them to him for me? There's also a little something extra in there for you. Enjoy.'

The man turned swiftly on his heel and walked off. I stared at his retreating back. I then looked at the book and bag of sweets in my hand. What had just happened? A man who had no idea who I was had just handed me a book without asking for payment and a bag of sweets that I'm pretty sure I shouldn't take. A loud dong from the clock tower bell rang outside. It was four o'clock. I jumped and ran out the door, shoving the book and sweets into my backpack. I'd already been in trouble once that day for starting an argument over who had finished the milk. Matron would kill me if she realised I'd disappeared again from the museum trip while she had taken Simon and Robert to the dentist. Then again, I knew Mandy would tell her anyway so what was the point in hurrying?

I made it back to The Refuge just as the rest of children and Sarah, the person who'd taken us on the trip, did. I tagged on to the back of the group knowing Sarah wouldn't have even noticed I'd gone; she was a part-time volunteer at the orphanage and was very lax in her care of us. Ahead of me though I saw Mandy send a smirk at me. I knew what that meant. I kept my head down as we walked inside and snuck off to my dormitory. I shut the door behind me, went over to my bed, and pulled the book out my bag. I wiped off some of the dust from it so I could read the title. The words were too worn though for me to make out a name or the author. From downstairs I heard the main door open and close meaning Matron was back with the boys. I opened the cover but before I could even read the first sentence I heard footsteps hurrying up the stairs and the door to my dormitory burst open. Matron, face red with exasperation, strode over to where I sat on my bed and snatched the book from my hands. Beside her Mandy stood grinning evilly at me.

'After wandering off from Sarah's care yet again,' groaned Matron, 'I find you sitting here, God only knowing what you've been up to, with a book that does not belong to the orphanage. Where did you get this?' she asked me, holding the book in front of me just out of my reach.

I hesitated. I couldn't tell her where I got that book. I didn't even know for sure myself what exactly that shop had been. She wouldn't believe me even if I told her the truth, that the shopkeeper had leant it to me. But I had to say something. I had to get the book back. It might have the answer to why strange things kept happening to me for all I knew. Suddenly panic swept over me. What if it did have strange stuff like that in it? The shop had been weird enough so what was actually in that book! I didn't dare imagine what she'd think if she read it.

'It's a library book,' I said. 'I'm borrowing it.'

'You don't even have a library card!' snapped Matron. 'You wouldn't be allowed to borrow a book without one so how you got this book I can only begin to imagine.'

'I didn't steal it!' I said desperately. 'The librarian said I could borrow it! I didn't take it without asking!'

'Jennifer!' snapped Matron again. I fell silent. 'I've had it up to here with your troublemaking!' Matron shouted at me. Beside her Mandy was loving watching me get told off for the umpteenth time. I sent her a glare as she smirked at me. 'For years I have tried my best to look after you, to make you feel welcome here, and all I get in return is your destructive behaviour. Breaking things! Stealing from the other children! Setting fire to the curtains!'

'That was an accident!' I protested. 'I don't know how the curtains caught fire!'

'I hoped that you would learn from the other children, that you'd learn to behave from the example they'd set, but I'm running out of options. If you can't learn to behave from your friends then I am at a loss of what to do you.'

'I don't have any friends,' I said spitefully before I could stop myself. 'Mandy keeps spreading lies about me, making them tease me by telling them my parents didn't want me.'

'Jennifer!' said Matron reproachfully. She gave me a disappointed look. 'I will not have you blame others for your misfortune,' she continued, this time more calmly. It was the same voice she used the day she first told me about my parents. 'Jennifer, I have explained this to you time and time again. You were found alone in a park with no parents to be seen with nothing but a blanket to protect you from the cold autumn weather. You would have died if Mr Williams and his wife hadn't found you. Your parents heartlessly left you there. For all we know they're probably lying in a gutter dead somewhere like you could have been.'

'No!' I yelled. Beside me the light bulb in my bedside lamp exploded with a sharp crack. 'My parents didn't abandon me! They're not dead! I wasn't abandoned!'

I pushed past Matron and Mandy and ran out my dormitory. Matron didn't even stop me. She knew I'd come back. I always do. I ran back downstairs and out of the orphanage. I kept running for as long as I could until I reached one of my hiding places. I curled up into a ball and started to cry. I remained there until after darkness had started to fall. I'd heard some footsteps approach where I was hiding and I saw it was the same policeman as usual who had come to find me.

'I thought I'd find you here,' he said gently. He sat down next to me, his kind eyes appraising me. 'What happened this time, Jenna?'

I looked at him, startled. He'd called me Jenna. No one ever called me that.

'I ran away again,' I mumbled. I rested my chin on my arms, hunched up.

'I can see that,' said the policeman. 'But that doesn't tell me what happened.' I looked away. 'Jenna, I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong.'

'I wandered off from this museum trip Matron organised and found this weird bookstore,' I told him. 'The shopkeeper let me borrow one of his books but Matron confiscated it from me, thinking I'd stolen it, because Mandy snitched on me.'

'Jenna.' The policeman sighed. 'You shouldn't have wandered off, you know this. You could get hurt out here by yourself.' Reluctantly I nodded. 'I'll speak to your Matron. Come on, let's get you home.'

Eventually the policeman coaxed me out and got me back to the orphanage.

And so I became more isolated from the rest of the group. Some of the children left either from remaining family picking them up or being adopted. I always hated Adoption Day. Matron would make us all dress in our smartest clothes and line us all up in the main hall as prospective parents were being interviewed. Then the couples would take turns in meeting each of us, asks us some questions, and choose whose file they wanted to see. Whenever they'd look at me they'd comment on how quiet and shy I seemed until they'd see my file and instantly be put off from all the records of my bad behaviour. I only did the Adoption Days thinking that there was a chance my parents would turn up relieved to find me but they never came. Eventually I stopped doing the Adoption Days, instead choosing to remain in my dormitory rather than put myself through the same outcome again and again. Despite my attitude, the one thing I didn't do was give up hope. I don't know how but I knew someone out there was looking for me and that one day they'd find me.

The following day I was called into Matron's office. The policeman had indeed spoken to her about my wandering off from the museum trip and once again brought up the subject of putting me in school, reasoning that because I was so unhappy at the orphanage perhaps sending me to school might actually help control my behaviour. Being at a loss with what to do with me, Matron had reluctantly agreed and enquired around the local primary schools to see if any would accept me. Most had been reluctant to take on such a badly behaved child with as poorer background history as mine apart from one: St. Grogory's, a small primary school to the east side of Little Whinging. I was informed I'd be starting it within the next few weeks even though term had already started. She didn't give me the book back though.

A few weeks after that meeting I joined St. Grogory's. It was a short bus ride away from The Refuge so Matron organised a bus pass for me to get to and from school. There wasn't a uniform to wear so that was an expense spared for the orphanage but it did mean I had to wear my old second-hand clothes to school. On my first day Matron took me to meet Ms Roemmele, the Headmistress, and I was left with her to be taken to what would be my class. I followed silently behind her with my head bowed as she took me to a classroom on the opposite side of the playground to the main building containing the assembly room and her office. She knocked on the door then took me inside. A class of twenty-five or so eight and nine year olds watched as I walked in behind Ms Roemmele. I shrunk away from their stares.

After a quick word with the teacher, Ms Roemmele left the classroom.

'Class, this is Jennifer –' she hesitated, looking at me questioningly. I shrugged. I had no surname, what did she expect me to say? 'Jennifer,' the teacher repeated to her class, 'and she's from the local orphanage. She's going to be in our class so I want you all to welcome her and treat her the same way you treat each other. Make sure you give her a hand if she needs help to catch up.'

I felt my cheeks grow red. Did she have to announce I was an orphan? At the back of the class I saw five rather large looking boys snickering and pointing at me. I shrunk away even further. The teacher pointed at an empty seat on one of the tables and told me to go sit on it. I did so obediently, keeping my eyes down. There were five other children on my table but I didn't look at them. Opposite me sat a boy with broken glasses; when the other kids had turned back to the front when the teacher had resumed the lesson, he was the only one to keep looking a me a bit longer than everyone else. I ignored him and got on with the work the teacher set us.

School was not how I imagined it to be. In fact, it was exactly the same as being at the orphanage, I just had different people staring at me. Being the new girl no one wanted to know me and because I was an orphan the other kids kept laughing and whispering as I passed them in the playground. It also turned out that the snickering boys from my class were a bunch of bullies. Within the first week I watched as every playtime they beat up some poor kid in our year group from either our class or the other Year Four class. Their favourite target was the black-haired boy with the broken glasses who sat on my table. His baggy clothes probably didn't help the problem. I actually felt kind of sorry for him. This boy never seemed to be around anyone else in the playground or class if he wasn't being bullied. I'd watch as the larger boy chased him round the playground wondering why someone hadn't stood up to him yet. But knowing I'd rather be here and alone than at the orphanage and alone I decided to keep my head down and out of trouble.

It wasn't long until the large boy and his friends got round to bullying me after his usual targets. I'd been in school for about a week when he approached me in the playground. I had been minding my own business, like I usually did, reading a book I'd got from the school library at the far end of the playground by the wire fence. I was just about to turn the page when my book was snatched out of my hands. I looked up. The large boy and two of his friends were standing in front of me, the largest of them holding my book up in his hand. I got up.

'That's my book,' I said simply. The boy just grinned at me.

'Not anymore,' he laughed. 'I'm Dudley. This is Piers and Gordon.' He gestured at each of the boys behind him. 'You're new here so you won't know that we rule this playground. We've taken this book from you so now it's our book.'

'So?' I scoffed. 'What do you plan on doing with it? It doesn't have any pictures in it so I guess you won't be reading it.'

As usual, I acted before I thought through what I was doing and opened my mouth too wide. Dudley's piggy eyes narrowed at me. I saw a vein start to protrude from his temple.

'I can read!' he said. 'Probably better than you can, Orphan!'

'I'm not an orphan,' I respond. I gritted my teeth, trying not to rise to the comment.

'Orphan! Orphan! Orphan! Orphan!'

Next moment Piers and Gordon gasped and stopped their chanting. In front of them Dudley was wiping the clod of mud I'd just thrown in his face. Dudley glared at me.

'Get her.'

I know what you're thinking. I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have thrown that mud at Dudley. But he deserved it. I ran as fast as I could through the playground as Dudley, Piers and Gordon chased after me shouting 'Orphan!' loudly so everyone could hear. Kids were stopping their games to see what was going on. I was glad I was quick on my feet. Dudley and the others were struggling to catch up with me. But they had the advantage. They knew the school, I didn't. I ran round the back of the school to find a dead end, nothing but wall and fence. I stared at the wall of the lunchroom before turning round to see the three boys had caught up with me, blocking my way back to the playground. The other Year Fours had followed to watch the new girl get beaten up. Some of them were even chanting 'Orphan!' like Dudley had been.

'Not so cocky now, are you?' Dudley jeered at me. I hesitated. I hated being cornered like this but if I bought myself some time I might be able to think of a way to get out of this.

'You know I've never thought much of bullies,' I said, loud enough so those gathered could hear me. I really wasn't sure what to do but I was going for it. 'They only hurt other people because they're scared no one will like them.'

The vein in Dudley's temple darkened. He glared at me. I smiled slightly. It was then I noticed the black-haired boy who was usually being bullied staring at me almost in awe.

'You've asked for it now.'

Dudley swung his massive fist at me. I ducked and he went flying past me, hitting the wall. As he cried in pain, Gordon and Piers had a go. They came at me at the same time. I stood my ground, staring at them, ready to dodge their fists. Suddenly, I'm not sure how, their fists erupted into a collection of angry red pimples as if they'd been stung by a bunch of bees. I just watched as they shook their hands and howled in pain. It had happened again. I did something without meaning to. At that moment all I could think of was Matron was going to kill me when she found out I'd been fighting in my first week of school.

'You'll pay for that!' said Dudley angrily, eyes bulging.

Once again he came thundering at me, swollen fist raised ready to hit me. I stood my ground. I waited until he was at punching range of me. Dudley swung his fist at me. I ducked so it missed me and stuck my leg out to my left. The momentum of Dudley's punch carried him forwards and his fat ankles hit my leg, tripping him up. He went flying forwards and landed flat on his face. For someone his size, it was actually quite graceful to watch. Dudley sat on the ground cry and holding his grazed knee. I watched as he bawled his eyes out while everyone behind me … was cheering? I turned round to see the Year Fours all celebrating the fact Dudley had got his comeuppance. Even the boy with broken glasses seemed particularly happy as he watched Dudley crying. I didn't have time though to bask in my somewhat strange glory. Despite his tears, Dudley had gotten back to his supported by Piers and Gordon and they were all glaring at me.

I backed away, and said, 'I guess I ought to be going then.'

I pulled from my pocket a small black bag of what I thought were pink and purple marbles. They had been in the bag of sweets the old man from the bookstore had given me. A note inside had said Use when in trouble. Well, if I wasn't in trouble now. I took a small handful of marbles and threw them on the ground. I expected them to roll over the ground so that when Dudley and his friends chased me they'd slip on the marbles and fall over again. What I didn't expect was for the small marbles to burst into puffs of pink and purple smoke upon impact.

How I got on top of the roof, I don't know. The strange pink and purple smoke from the marbles just seemed to spread everywhere around me, and the next moment I'd landed with a small thump on the roof of the kitchens. Stumbling forwards, I knelt down at the edge to see a teacher had come to see what the commotion was about was dispersing the Year Fours. Dudley was speaking to the teacher and by the looks of how he acted, he was playing innocent to the bullying he'd just been doing. When the teacher had gone I watched as Dudley started to chase the boy with the broken glasses again. I guess I didn't really teach him a lesson after all. Either that or he was taking his defeat out on the boy. They both ran away from the lunch building, the boy with broken glasses pushing over a rubbish bin and jumping over it –

I started. The boy had … vanished …

'Hey!'

I looked behind me when I heard a voice shout at me. The boy with the broken glasses was sitting precariously on top of one of the old chimneystacks.

'Can you get me down?' he asked me.

I nodded. Carefully I walked up the roof tiles towards the chimney. I made a step with my hands for the boy to use as he climbed off the stack. He slid down off the stack using my hands for support then hopped on to the tiles beside me. He looked relieved to be back on slightly more sturdy ground. With the boy off the chimney I sat down on the tiles to wait for someone to find us and for the trouble to start.

'What's your name?' asked the boy. 'You didn't seem to like it when the teacher called you Jennifer.'

Taken aback, I replied, 'Jenna, and no, not really. My Matron always uses it when I'm in trouble at The Refuge.'

'Is that where you live?'

'Yeah, that's the name of the orphanage I'm from.' I pulled my legs up to my chest, placing my chin on my knees. 'I hate it there.'

'Where are your parents?' continued the boy.

'I don't know,' I muttered in reply.

The boy fell silent for a moment. Next he said, 'My name's Harry. I'm sorry about Dudley. He likes picking on those who are … different.'

I looked at Harry, curious by his choice of words. He looked back at me then gave me a smile. He pushed his broken glasses back on to his nose, blinking a pair of almond-shaped green eyes. I hadn't seen a pair of eyes that green before; they looked kind of like emeralds. It was then I noticed just above his right eye on his forehead was a thin scar peaking out from behind his fringe. It looked like a lightning bolt. I wonder how he got that. I then turned away. It felt weird, Harry being nice to me. I didn't really know what to do.

'So what made you take on Dudley?' Harry asked, breaking the silence between us.

I shrugged, 'He took the book I was reading. I wanted it back. I wasn't going to let him push me around just because I'm new and an –' I shuddered slightly, 'an orphan. I get that enough at the orphanage.'

'I know how you feel,' said Harry. I glanced at him. 'I live with Dudley. His mum's my Mum's sister and I live with them.'

'Why?' I asked. 'Where are your parents?'

'They died in a car crash,' Harry replied. 'That's how I got the scar.' He pointed at his forehead. He must have seen me looking at it. 'I was left at my aunt and uncle's house the day of the crash. They've taken care of me ever since. Growing up with Dudley, well, the sellotape is about the only thing that holds my glasses together now.'

'Harry Potter! Jennifer –!'

Harry and I flinched when we heard the voice of Ms Roemmele come from below. There was even the same hesitation when she said my name, realising I had no surname to use alongside. Shouting at people always seems more forceful when both names are used, not that I didn't find hearing "Jennifer" being shouted at me cringe worthy as I always knew the reason behind it. Harry and I looked at each other and I was surprised to see we were giving each other the exact same look. The look that knew we were in trouble.

Matron went ballistic when I gave her the letter from Ms Roemmele about being on the kitchen and lunchroom roof. She couldn't believe I'd been in school for a week and had already been caught fighting – I assume Dudley had snitched on me even though he'd been the one bullying me – and climbing the school buildings. I tried to explain what really happen, about Dudley taking my book and the strange marbles but as usual Matron wouldn't hear me out. Still Matron was surprised that I'd actually kept out of trouble for the entire first week and so merely grounded me for the next few days as punishment instead to go with the detention I'd received from the school. She did give me the warning though that if my behaviour didn't improve I would be removed from the school as they were only doing it as a favour and so it could be renounced at any moment. Ultimatum given, Matron dismissed me to go wash the dishes for dinner.

With my behaviour being the only thing that was keeping me in school I did my best to keep out of trouble, as I didn't want to have to go back to spending every day at the orphanage. School at least gave me a brief reprieve from it. Granted there wasn't much difference between the two. I was either being bullied at the orphanage or I was being bullied whenever Dudley managed to catch me. At least I had a friend. The day after my first encounter with Dudley, I found to my surprise Harry waiting for me when my bus arrived at the school. It seemed we both had found someone who we had something in common with and our friendship started from there. It was strange but nice at the same time. I finally had a friend and I did not want to screw it up.